Ron's gaze swept over the Supernovas as a faint, incredulous smile appear on his lips.
In this situation, he thought, instead of considering how to ensure their own survival, they're actually thinking about playing the role of the fisherman who profits while the birds fight over the fish.
Their brains must be completely damage.
He watched them bicker and posture, completely oblivious to the real threats still standing on the field.
High-tier marine combatants like Sengoku and Garp are right beside them.
Even if, by some miracle, they managed to seize an opportunity to injure the two Emperors,
Sengoku and Garp would undoubtedly intervene instantly and crush them all.
Their ambition is completely meaningless here.
Ron shook his head and shifted his gaze away, but soon found it drawn back to one of them in particular.
He scrutinized Eustass Kid carefully, a spark of genuine interest in his eyes.
He wasn't looking at the man, but at the swirling mass of scrap metal he controlled.
The Magnet-Magnet Fruit…
"An interesting ability," Ron muttered to himself. "But his development path seems a bit… uninspired."
In his opinion, if that Devil Fruit's abilities were properly honed, they could become incredibly formidable.
Kid's powers reminded Ron of the legendary masters of magnetism from the storybooks of his youth—figures who could command metal with a thought, whose sheer destructive force was the stuff of legends.
The ability to control magnetic fields was so practical, so versatile.
Just imagine the convenience in daily life!
Sitting at the dining table, you could simply wave your hand to summon a distant can of soda to fly right to you.
Or while walking, stepping on an iron plate could allow you to levitate and move freely through the air.
The mere thought of such scenes was exhilarating.
However, from what Ron had seen of Kid so far, he had never employed such a method of movement.
He just clumped metal onto his arm and punched things.
It was a bafflingly crude application of such a profound power.
Could it be that the fruit can't control iron with enough finesse to allow flight? Ron mused.
No, it definitely can.
Of course, when it came to the freedom and comfort of soaring through the skies, the Golden Lion's Float-Float Fruit was undoubtedly superior.
Mentioning the Golden Lion, Ron couldn't help but feel a familiar pang of frustration.
Earlier in his journey, he had deliberately kept an eye out for Shiki's whereabouts, but the man had vanished again.
"What's wrong, Ron?" Ace's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced curiously from Ron to Kid, then back again.
"Did that red-haired guy piss you off?"
Ron withdrew his gaze and shook his head slightly, a hint of intrigue in his voice.
"No, I just think his ability is quite interesting."
"Huh?"
Before Ace could say anything, Jozu turned his head, looking left and right for a target.
He rolled up his massive diamond shoulders, and his gruff voice boomed.
"Ron, who are you talking about? Point him out! I'll go spill some of his blood right now!"
Ron sighed, a helpless but fond smile on his face.
He shook his head. "Jozu, being a pirate isn't just about fighting and killing all day. We should strive to be civilized. Next time you feel the urge to spill someone's blood, remember to say 'please' first. It's much more polite."
"Huh?" Jozu scratched his head, his honest face a mask of pure bewilderment as he stared at Ron.
"Does saying 'please' really make it more polite?"
"Of course," Ron nodded patiently, his expression perfectly serious.
"Alright then, Ron. I'll remember it."
Soon after, the group's attention was pulled back to the sky, where two figures were locked in an increasingly fierce battle.
Their movements were as swift as lightning, each collision of their weapons accompanied by deafening impacts and violent surges of raw Haki that sent shockwaves across the island.
Despite the immense physical exhaustion Whitebeard must have been feeling, his two Mythical Zoan Devil Fruits continued to supply him with a seemingly unending torrent of power.
"Red-Haired brat!" Whitebeard's voice roared, overpowering the sounds of their clash.
"You want me to give you face?! Not unless my name, Edward Newgate, is written backward!"
As his voice rang out, a dazzling, world-ending power began to erupt around his body.
Bolts of crimson-black lightning, so intense they nearly blinded the onlookers, began to arc from his skin.
An overwhelming force surged from him, transforming into thick, violent pillars of energy that shot straight into the heavens.
These terrifying bolts carried a suffocating, scorching heat, carving deadly, unnatural patterns across the sky.
When they plunged into the dark, heavy thunderclouds above, the entire sky seemed to ignite from within.
Countless crimson-black lightning serpents slithered and darted through the clouds, turning the already gloomy sky into a vision of the apocalypse.
In moments, the entire Marineford region was engulfed by the vast, living thunderstorm Whitebeard had summoned.
Enel watched the familiar scene unfold, his eyes wide with a fanatical excitement.
Unable to contain himself, he grabbed Kingdew's arm and pointed at the sky, shouting eagerly.
"Ultimate move! the captain is unleashing his ultimate move! That's true power!" His voice was filled with a mix of awe and professional jealousy.
"God! He is a god! But… this move… it kinda looks like my Raigou, doesn't it?"
WHACK!
Before he could finish, a sharp slap landed squarely on the back of his head.
Kingdew glared at Enel with exasperation.
"Enel, don't say things that disrupt our unity. What's yours or mine? It's all Pops'."
Enel fell silent, rubbing his head.
"... Understood."
Lesson learned.
Ron stared at the awe-inspiring phenomenon, his brow furrowing slightly as a deep unease stirred in his heart.
He knew Whitebeard's strength was extraordinary, but even he couldn't sustain such relentless use of powerful techniques without a cost.
"Can the Captain's body really handle this?" Ron wondered silently, his gaze fixed on the storm blanketing Marineford.
Nearby, Marco stood with the same deep concern mirrored in his eyes.
As the Whitebeard Pirates' doctor, he knew Pops' physical condition better than anyone.
He was acutely aware that the injury to Pops' right arm had yet to fully heal, and the previous battles had already drained much of his legendary stamina.
Now, this intense, all-out fight against Shanks… the situation was far from optimistic.
"Pops has been pushing himself too hard," Marco muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with a helpless concern.
Hearing this, Ace's head snapped toward him, his brows furrowing even deeper in displeasure.
"Marco, that's just your speculation!" he retorted, his voice sharp and defensive.
"Pops is the strongest man in the world! Nothing can defeat him!"
Marco fell silent, knowing there was no arguing with Ace's blind faith.
Everyone on the battlefield stared in horror at the expanding thunderclouds, the overwhelming pressure making it feel as though the entire world was about to be devoured.
Standing among the ruins, Sengoku's pupils dilated, unable to conceal the shock in his eyes.
He murmured to himself, his voice a hoarse whisper, "How does Newgate still have the strength for such a massive attack? All this time… was he never even fighting us seriously?"
"Hmph! That old monster hid his cards well," Garp gritted his teeth, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
Flames of pure, unadulterated fury burned in his eyes.
He itched to charge forward and battle Whitebeard for another three hundred rounds right then and there.
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