The turbulent seas were shrouded in a thin mist.
Ships sailed through it, unable to make out their surroundings. Trapped in the fog, one could feel as though their vessel were the only lonely ship adrift on the ocean.
Boom!
Suddenly, with a thunderous crash, the sound of repeated cannon fire erupted.
Everyone aboard the pirate ship was startled. Before they could even figure out what was happening, a barrage of black cannonballs came whistling out of the mist, smashing toward their vessel.
"All hands, prepare for battle!"
The red-haired man who had been standing calmly before now bellowed.
The moment his voice fell, the crew reacted without hesitation.
This was no ordinary crew — they were the Red-Haired Pirates, and Shanks had built them on quality over numbers. Every single one of them was formidable.
Facing the incoming cannon fire, not a single man panicked. They coordinated flawlessly to intercept the shells while their ship quickly adjusted course, steering toward the source of the attack.
Breaking through the waves and pushing aside layers of fog, a massive warship soon emerged into view.
"That's…"
Their eyes locked onto the insignia emblazoned across the distant sails, and everyone was shocked.
"A World Government ship?"
Yes — the attackers weren't pirates, nor even Marines, but warships of the World Government itself.
Normally, the Government left matters at sea to the Navy. They rarely committed their own fleets. Yet here they were.
It didn't matter why. Since the enemy had opened fire first, there was no need to hold back.
Shanks had ties with the Five Elders in the past — ties steeped in mystery — but those days were gone. The current rulers of the Government were no longer the people he once knew.
And so, there was no "face" to preserve, no restraint to be shown.
"Though I've always preferred peace, it seems such ideals are little more than a joke now. Men—!"
"KILL!!"
Before Shanks could finish, his crew raised their weapons with wild grins, shouting in unison.
In the next instant, they leapt onto the approaching Government warship.
The Red-Haired crew were handpicked elites; each one could dominate the first half of the Grand Line, and many were feared even in the New World.
The World Government ship, however, carried no Admiral, no great hero of justice. Its highest combatant was only someone on par with a mid-ranking Marine.
Against Shanks' crew, they were utterly powerless.
The battle was over in mere minutes — a one-sided massacre.
Shanks strode across the deck, his expression dark.
"Why is the World Government here? And tell me—how did you know our position through the fog, when you couldn't even see us?"
His eyes bore into the captured commander. The fact that Government ships were present here was troubling enough, but what unsettled him most was how they had been found so precisely.
The captured man spat in defiance, his voice dripping with venom.
"Hmph… You filth, dreaming of toppling the world order… Sooner or later, someone will bury you where you stand!"
Bang!
Before he could continue, a heavy boot crashed into his side. A fat pirate scowled at him.
"Our captain asked you a question. No one said you could spew garbage."
The man coughed blood, glaring with eyes full of venom, as if he would devour them alive.
"I know where you're headed. To Wano… Go on then! That land will be everyone's grave! Hahahaha!"
He had no noble spirit of martyrdom, only wild, mocking laughter — laughter filled with scorn.
No matter how they beat him, he only laughed louder.
Until, at last, his laughter pushed them too far, and with another kick, the fat pirate sent him tumbling into the sea.
But as his body hit the waves, it was as though a signal had been given. The mist around them erupted with distant booms — explosions echoing on all sides.
Shanks' observation haki spread outward at once, pushed to its very limits. His expression twisted into shock.
"Damn it… Who can tell me what the hell is going on here!?"
All this time, he had thought only his own forces were heading toward Wano. But now, his haki revealed the truth — dozens of ships were scattered all around them.
On board those ships were warriors — some weak, some powerful. Among them, he sensed familiar presences… terrifyingly strong presences.
Urgency rising within him, he ordered his crew to steer closer.
"Gurararara…"
"So it's just as that brat Sabo said — the World Government can't sit still any longer!"
From within the fog, a colossal ship loomed. On its deck, Whitebeard let out a booming laugh, swigging from his jug of sake.
"Oyaji, I just finished scouting," Marco reported, descending from the sky with his usual dead-eyed look. "Besides our own ships, there are four Government warships nearby. Their fighters aren't too impressive, though."
He paused, then added, "On my way back… I spotted Red-Hair. He's heading straight for us."
"Gurararara… So that brat Shanks couldn't sit idle either, eh? Let him come. If he wishes it, then so be it!"
Whitebeard roared with laughter again, but then his gaze turned distant, remembering a conversation long ago — one only he and Roger had shared.
A secret about the boy's true identity.
The world knew Shanks as an apprentice on Roger's ship. Few knew that from the moment he was born, he had been aboard Roger's vessel.
Even now, there were likely fewer than five people alive who knew who Shanks really was.
"Father! A warship's approaching — but it's not attacking!"
Marco shot back into the air, his sharp eyes narrowing as another vessel emerged from the fog.
"It's… the Navy."
Among all the Government warships swarming the seas, here was a Marine ship. A strange sight indeed. Stranger still, it raised signal flags requesting an audience with Whitebeard.
Since when had the Marines been so… polite?
"Let them approach."
"Father, they're still Marines. We—"
"Gurararara! What's there to fear? This old man is still the world's mighti—"
He caught himself. Once, he would have declared himself the world's strongest man without hesitation. Now, though, he knew his age and health had taken their toll.
Even so, Whitebeard was undaunted. Whether or not he was still the strongest, he remained Whitebeard — bold, fearless, unshaken.
"What a formidable man…"
A deep voice rang out. A tall figure stepped aboard, clad in a purple kimono, eyes clouded with blindness. Admiral Fujitora stood firm on Whitebeard's deck, his unseeing gaze fixed on the Yonko.
In his heart, he was shaken. This was a pirate — and yet, before him stood not a criminal, but a great man, a hero in his own right.
Why would such a man choose the path of piracy? It was a question he could not fathom.
Whitebeard, however, greeted him with a knowing smile.
"So it's you. The new Admiral… Fujitora, isn't it?"
"Gurararara… Tell me then — what business brings you so boldly onto my ship? You must know the World Government dogs are watching."
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