"Who's that kid? He's not here to assassinate Pops, is he?" Marco chuckled.
A sharp smack landed on the back of his head. "Idiot. Who'd carry such a big package if they were here to kill someone?" Whitey Bay snapped, her long blue hair swinging as she scowled.
Back then, she was still young, though already carrying herself like the crew's big sister.
"Look, he's here," Vista said with a grin.
Teach walked up to Whitebeard, his presence alone heavy with pressure.
"What do you want, kid?" Whitebeard rumbled, fixing him with that piercing gaze.
Teach smiled. "Let me join your crew, Pops."
The crowd froze. Silence rippled across the deck.
"He called him Pops already?" someone muttered.
"Thick-skinned little brat…"
Whitebeard studied Teach in silence. The boy didn't flinch under his stare. Then, a deep belly laugh shook the ship.
"Gurararara! If you want to join, then come aboard."
Relief and excitement crashed over Teach at once. The Whitebeard Pirates were the safest harbor he could ask for and the best place to grow stronger.
The crew welcomed him warmly, each member stepping forward to introduce themselves until he felt like part of the family.
Later, while some gathered supplies on the island, others played cards and sparred to pass the time.
"Hey, Teach, you carry three swords? You're a swordsman too, right? Spar with me." Vista's eyes gleamed, his instincts sharp. He'd noticed the two blades at Teach's waist and the third strapped to his back.
Teach opened his mouth to answer, but Whitey Bay cut in, glaring at Vista. "Don't bully the newcomer. Teach, show us your strength. Marco, apprentice or not, you're up. Don't embarrass us."
Marco blinked. He hadn't said a word! But he stood anyway, brushing off his cards. "Troublesome… but fine. I won't hold back."
The pirates quickly formed a circle, leaving space for the fight. Teach and Marco faced each other in the center.
Teach grinned, drawing two swords. "Same to you.. I can't let you look down on me." His breathing shifted rhythmically, the air around him growing hot.
He charged. His footwork flowed, his blades carving precise angles. Marco backpedaled, dodging one slash only for another to come a heartbeat later.
"Oi, Marco! You call that fighting? If you can't handle a rookie, you'll stay an apprentice forever!"
The crew roared with laughter, but the sharper-eyed pirates frowned. Marco was being pressed hard. Heat waves rippled in the air around Teach, draining Marco's stamina with every dodge.
Marco's speed kept him alive, but only just. If this kept up, he'd lose.
"Tch… not good." Marco ducked under a slash. The wall of spectators loomed close.. he had no room left to retreat. "I'll look like a fool if I don't counter soon."
He burst forward, speed spiking, and slammed a kick against Teach's blade. The impact rocked Teach off balance. Marco flickered to his side in a blur.
"Not good," Teach thought as Marco's heel smashed into his chest.
The blow hurled him backward, but he stabbed a sword into the deck to keep his feet. His chest ached, but his mind was sharper than ever. My foundation's solid, but fighting people is nothing like fighting beasts. I've got the basics, but my experience is lacking.
He smiled, pulling Thunder Fang free and sheathing it. Two-sword style was too raw for him, he'd focus on one sword first.
The shift didn't go unnoticed. "One-sword style? He's giving up already?"
Plenty of swordsmen filled Whitebeard's crew—Vista with his dual blades, even Oden with his famed style. But Teach, blade in one hand, seemed more natural now.
"Hahaha! Again!" Teach's hands flushed red, fire licking up his arm as the blade ignited. His sleeves burned to ash, but he didn't flinch. "Don't die on me!"
The temperature spiked, forcing even the onlookers to grow serious.
"Monster," Marco muttered, half-grinning despite himself.
Their clash dragged on for over ten minutes, neither side yielding.
"Gurararara! Enough, you brats!" Whitebeard's voice boomed, cutting through the fight. "Call it a draw. There'll be plenty more chances."
Teach exhaled, both drained and exhilarated.
Around him, the crew's eyes had changed. He'd earned their recognition.
The Whitebeard Pirates didn't linger. Once the supplies were aboard, the Moby Dick prepared to sail.
Teach stood at the railing, staring at the town he'd called home for twelve years. Few villagers had dared approach the port; the Whitebeard flag scared most away.
Then... he felt it. A familiar gaze. He turned.
From a corner of the town, Monica and Modie waved.
"Goodbye, Teach! Come back safe! I'll wait for you forever!" Monica shouted, her voice breaking with tears.
Teach grinned, raising a hand. "I'll come back! Uncle Modie, take care of her for me!"
"You brat!" Modie bellowed. "Don't you dare make my daughter cry.. come back a man or don't come back at all!"
Teach laughed as the island shrank into the horizon.
When he finally turned, his blood ran cold. The crew had silently surrounded him, all staring.
"Damn it, what's with you guys? Trying to scare me to death?" Teach snapped.
They ignored the complaint. Marco leaned in, smirking. "Teach… what was that we heard? 'I'll wait for you forever,' huh?"
The others joined, eyes sparkling with gossip.
"You're only twelve and already have a girlfriend?"
"Oi, oi, moving fast, aren't you?"
Teach crossed his arms, lifting his chin. "So what? You single dogs can only envy me."
The crew staggered back as if struck by lightning. "S-Single… dogs?!"
Teach hid a smirk. So what if I have a girlfriend? At least I'm ahead of the pack. He walked away, leaving the wounded bachelors in his wake.
But the joke ended there. Training came first.
His duel with Marco proved his swordsmanship lacked polish. His true edge lay in raw physical combat and without killing intent, neither of them had gone all out.
Inside his small cabin, Teach strapped heavy wristbands and ankle weights to his limbs, each half a ton. Sweat poured as he swung his heavy practice sword, his breathing shifting, heat and sparks dancing across his skin.
He wasn't about to reveal his full power yet. He had no plans to linger under Whitebeard for twenty years like in the original timeline. A crew of his own... that was the goal.
Closing his eyes, he spread his Observation Haki across the cabin. Six years of constant use had honed it to a razor's edge, his greatest hidden talent.
It was the one true golden finger he'd carried into this world.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Teach, the banquet's starting! Hurry up!" Marco's voice rang from outside.
Teach wiped down, changed clothes, and stepped out with a grin. The deck glowed with lanterns, the air thick with the smell of roasted meat and wine.
A new journey had begun.