Blackbeard's Sensing
"Pops!"
Marco strode over, followed by the Whitebeard Pirates members who were excitedly carrying meat and washing barrels.
He looked up at the familiar, enormous figure. "Teach suggested having a banquet on that island, what do you think..."
The Whitebeard slowly put down the wine jug in his hand, the wine beads on his beard glistening in the sunlight.
His cloudy yet still sharp eyes swept across the desolate island in the distance, and after a moment of silence, he whispered:
Since the children are so eager to see it... let's go check it out.
Marco nodded and left, unaware that the Whitebeard's fingers, gripping the flask, tightened almost imperceptibly for a moment.
He didn't see the complex light that flashed deep in the old man's pupils—warning, worry, and a barely perceptible fighting spirit.
The Moby Dick quickly adjusted its course, its sails billowing in the wind. The wind speed was strangely stable, the waves were not high, and the wind was not turbulent, as if the entire sea was making way for their "arrival".
The other side of the deck
Blackbeard stood at the very front, his hands gripping the railing, his dark, thick knuckles turning white, as if he were trembling slightly.
His right eye twitched all day, and his heart felt like it was bound by invisible chains, beating more and more restlessly.
But what made him most uneasy was the voice that kept echoing in his mind:
"Come here... come here..."
"... I... belong to you..."
The sound wasn't transmitted through the ears, but was implanted directly into the depths of consciousness, appearing and disappearing like the tide, as if something was deep within the island's heart, waiting for him to approach... waiting for "it" to awaken.
Blackbeard licked his chapped lips, his throat tightening.
He could have found a plausible excuse—such as repairing the ship or gathering intelligence...
But when he woke up this morning, without thinking, he inexplicably suggested to Marco that they "hold a banquet on that island."
Looking back now, it wasn't so much a "decision" as it was being "guided."
"Teach."
An old but deep voice suddenly came out, as if it were surging from the bottom of the sea, making Blackbeard tense up.
He quickly switched expressions, grinning, and said, "Pops! Why did you come all the way here yourself?"
The tall Whitebeard figure walked slowly towards them; even with an IV drip hanging from his arm, his posture remained as majestic as a mountain in the sunlight.
He didn't answer immediately, but instead looked up, took a deep breath of the sea breeze, and frowned. "This island... is quite special."
"Sea Kings... dare not approach this area."
Blackbeard swallowed instinctively, his back already soaked with cold sweat. "W-re really? I didn't even notice..."
Whitebeard didn't look at him, but stared silently at the horizon, then suddenly asked in a low voice, "Have you been sleeping well lately...?"
Blackbeard's heart skipped a beat, and he almost lost his smile, "Zehaha! I guess I'm just too excited! Of course I'm too excited to sleep about having a feast with my brothers!"
The Whitebeard gave a soft "hmm," slowly raised the wine jug, and took another sip.
Wine dripped down his pale beard, splashing onto the deck and staining it dark.
Go prepare to log in.
Before turning to leave, the old man suddenly stopped, his back to the Blackbeard, and said in a heavy tone:
"Remember--"
"Whatever is on the island... there can be no secrets between family members."
Blackbeard stood there, unable to move for a long time.
That sentence, though seemingly casual, struck him like a hammer, piercing through his facade.
He forced a smile, turned, and walked towards the crowd.
"Brother Teach! The Barbecue is almost ready!" The crew cheered as they brought out barrels of wine and meat racks, their laughter filling the deck.
But the calls in Blackbeard's mind surged like a tide, one wave higher than the next:
"Come... return to the origin..."
"Take me... back to life..."
He had to remain calm; now that he was here, he had to find out what was calling him.
Whitebeard returned to his usual seat on the deck, placed the empty flask aside, closed his eyes, and let the sea breeze blow across his snow-white beard and IV tube.
He felt not only the unusual sea breeze, but also a strange "pressure"—ancient, chaotic, and extremely familiar.
"Teach... Xebec..." he murmured.
A bitter, mocking smile flickered across his lips.
"What exactly did you sense...?"
On the distant sea, the wind has stopped and the waves have calmed.
The Moby Dick continued its journey through this eerie silence, carrying a ship full of unsuspecting laughter, heading towards the center of the vortex where fates would intersect.
Meanwhile, New World: Unnamed Deserted Island
The scorching sun baked the barren rock formations, and the air on the island seemed to be distorted by the heat. When the wind blew, it carried scorching sand and dust.
Ace, dressed in a casual short-sleeved shirt and jeans, with his hat pulled low, carried a heavy suitcase on his shoulder and strolled leisurely along the Deserted Island's mountain path, like a tourist on a picnic.
"Roy was supposed to come, but in the end I had to come carrying money to make the deal..."
He curled his lip and lazily complained, "It's just 3 billion Beli, anyone can deliver it."
In the sunlight, the box gleamed with a metallic sheen, its weight pressing down on one of his shoulders, but Ace didn't seem to care at all, even humming a tune under his breath.
He casually plucked a blade of grass and chewed on it, looking around at the scorching, withered rocks as he walked. "This island is so dilapidated... there's not even a coconut."
High on the Deserted Island - reconnaissance point on the rocky summit
A dark-skinned, sharp-eyed scout lay prone on the scorching rock, sweat dripping from his forehead like a faucet.
He raised his binoculars and carefully scanned the coastline and island road.
"Only... one person?!"
Through the binoculars, a boy wearing an orange hat was carrying a box, walking slowly down the mountain path with casual steps and no sense of vigilance.
Behind me... there was no one there!
A maniacal smile instantly spread across his face. He lowered his voice and urgently gave tactical hand signals to his comrades behind him:
"Confirmed! Only one person logged in with the funds! Lightly equipped, abilities unknown!"
Pirate Crew Base - Inside the Cave
A skull and crossbones flag hung on the dark rock wall. The cave was dimly lit, with a few black oil torches lit, and the air was filled with the stench of the sea and gunpowder.
Dozens of Pirates were laughing and shouting around a simple wooden table, on which were laid out various guns and short knives, creating a tense atmosphere.
"Haha!! Only one little brat showed up!"
"Has the Gild Tesoro lost his mind?! 3 billion!! With just this box of money, we could buy an island and become king!"
"I told you this deal was a windfall! The Gild Tesoro is so anxious he hasn't even sent all his men!"
"Kill the people, rob the money, and keep the spoils for ourselves—a sure win!"
They were spitting and laughing loudly, like a pack of hyenas about to divide up a treasure.
Only Captain Red, sitting motionless in the deepest part of the stone chair, remained unmoved.
His features were cold and hard, one hand slowly tapping the edge of the chair, his eyes deep and uncertain.
"... This is too smooth." He murmured, "Is the Gild Tesoro the kind of person who would casually hand over 3 billion to a kid?"
Everyone was stunned.
"When he arrives,"
Red squinted. "Let's figure out... just who he is."
Central Deserted Island - Trading Location
Weathered rocks form a natural plaza, open in the center and scorching hot like a steamer.
Ace swaggered into the open space, placed the 3 billion Beli box on the ground with a thud, and sat down on it.
"Hello--!"
He shouted several times in the open space, and his voice echoed among the rock walls.
"I'm here to make a deal, is anyone here?--?"
No one responded.
Ace scratched his head. "What kind of crappy place is this... What the hell? We have to wait for you guys to come out first?"
"Click--!"
The next second, dozens of flintlock muskets slowly emerged from behind the surrounding rocks, aiming at him in unison!
The muzzle of the gun flickered faintly in the darkness.
The air seemed to freeze instantly.
Footsteps sounded—"thump... thump... thump..."
A burly man with a face covered in scars emerged from behind the rock. He wore a leather hat, had a serrated longsword hanging at his waist, and stared intently at Ace with eyes as large as copper bells.
He sneered, "Kid... did the Gild Tesoro only send you alone?"
Ace tilted his head, revealing his signature smile, as if he didn't take the murderous aura in front of him seriously at all.
"Yeah, so what if you're alone?"
He patted the box. "You've brought 3 billion, so why don't you take out the fruits of your labor first?"
Red's eye twitched slightly.
This boy--
They were fearless from beginning to end.
There wasn't even a hint of wariness on his face...
Was he really only here to make a trade?