After some persuasion from Teach, Marco walked straight up to Whitebeard.
As Marco approached, Whitebeard had just finished a barrel of sake. Letting out a hearty burp, he looked at Marco with a grin and said,
"Gu ra ra ra! Marco, just in time. Go fetch me another barrel of sake."
In the past, Marco would have undoubtedly shown concern for Whitebeard's health before obediently fetching the sake.
But now, Marco stood still, tilting his head up, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Whitebeard.
Whitebeard noticed the change in Marco's demeanor. His brows furrowed slightly, and he instinctively raised a hand to touch the twisted scars on the right side of his face.
Since the battle with Carl, Whitebeard had grown uncomfortable with people staring at his face. However, Marco was his most beloved son, so he simply said in a deep voice,
"What's wrong, Marco? What's got you daydreaming?"
Marco paused for a moment before saying,
"Father, Kaido is dead, and the Beasts Pirates have been destroyed."
Whitebeard had, of course, already heard the news. He quietly looked at Marco and asked,
"Marco, have you been worried these past few days that the Marines will come for us next?"
Marco was taken aback, then nodded,
"Yes, Father. I have a feeling that if the Marines are determined to end the era of the Four Emperors, we'll be their next target. If…"
Whitebeard raised a hand to cut him off,
"No need for preamble. Just tell me what you're thinking, Marco."
The chatter on the deck had unknowingly quieted down. Everyone was watching the exchange between Whitebeard and Marco. Teach stood at the forefront, his eyes flickering.
Whitebeard glanced at the crew gathered behind Marco, then looked down at Marco's golden pineapple-like hair.
Under Whitebeard's intense gaze, Marco took a deep breath and said,
"Father, with Kaido's death, the balance of power at sea has been shattered. The Marines are too strong right now. I think we must consider forming an alliance with Big Mom and Red-Haired Shanks. Only by uniting with other strong pirate crews can we stand against the Marines. Otherwise, we're just waiting to be picked off!"
After saying this all in one breath, Marco braced himself for Whitebeard's rage. Teach and the others also looked tense.
After all, suggesting to a legendary sea emperor that he needed help to survive was akin to slapping Whitebeard in the face and saying, You're not strong enough anymore.
Whitebeard's face darkened as he slowly rose from his chair. The needles connected to his body fell off one by one.
Now standing before Marco like a towering mountain, Whitebeard said nothing.
The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on the deck.
Finally, Marco couldn't take it any longer and said softly,
"Father…"
"You're right, Marco."
Marco froze, then looked up at Whitebeard in disbelief.
Whitebeard leaned down, placing a massive hand on Marco's pineapple-shaped hair. He raised his head and addressed his sons,
"My beloved sons, you all think the same, don't you?"
Teach and the others exchanged glances before nodding hesitantly.
Whitebeard smiled faintly,
"So why didn't you tell me earlier? Afraid I'd get angry?"
No one answered. The deck remained silent, with only the salty sea breeze breaking the stillness.
Whitebeard's gaze swept over his crew. He straightened his posture, though his once-proud figure now seemed slightly hunched.
He spoke,
"My sons, nothing in this world is more important to me than you."
Hearing this, tears welled up in Marco's eyes. Even Teach felt a pang of emotion, though it was fleeting.
Whitebeard gently ruffled Marco's hair. At this moment, he wasn't an emperor of the sea but a father.
"So, Marco, do you understand now?"
Whitebeard didn't spell it out, preserving his last shred of pride. But his meaning was clear—he agreed to the alliance.
Marco wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded vigorously,
"I understand, Father! I'll set out to find Shanks immediately!"
Whitebeard didn't say another word. He nodded lightly and turned to head back to the cabin, his steps heavy.
Watching this, Teach let out a silent sigh of relief. Then he raised a hand and called out to Marco,
"Marco, I'll prepare a ship for you!"
...
Meanwhile, aboard the Red Force,
Rockstar burst into the captain's quarters and shouted,
"Captain! Marco of the Whitebeard Pirates is here!"
Shanks was in the middle of a discussion with Benn Beckman. Hearing this, Shanks' face lit up with a knowing smile. He glanced at Beckman and said,
"Beckman, what do you think Marco wants this time?"
Beckman replied,
"Likely to propose an alliance."
Shanks chuckled,
"Even Whitebeard can't sit still, huh? Honestly, I thought Big Mom's people would come first. She had quite the history with Kaido, after all."
Beckman crossed his arms, lowering his head slightly,
"No matter who comes, you won't agree, will you?"
Shanks gave a noncommittal smile. As he stood, his height now approached three meters—a result of the Mythical Zoan Fruit he'd eaten, which had triggered a second growth spurt at the age of thirty-seven.
Waving his hand casually, he said,
"Let's go meet our guest."
Beckman stood and followed Shanks out of the cabin. Rockstar closed the door behind them and trailed after the two leaders.
When Shanks stepped onto the deck, he sat in a crimson chair, projecting the authority of a captain. Only a few crewmates stood by the rail, waiting for Marco's ship to dock.
Though Shanks was known for his easygoing demeanor, in moments like this, he made sure to assert his position. After all, Marco—despite being Whitebeard's first division commander—was not a vice-captain and had no right to expect Shanks to meet him halfway.
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+255 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg