The young man before him had become a Shichibukai before he was even twenty...
In less than three years, he had made a tremendous name for himself across these seas.
Regardless of his strength or his way of doing things, he gave people the distinct impression that he could become the center of a whirlpool at any moment.
But—
Ever since the war began, he had shown no restraint whatsoever.
Simply relying on the motives and stance brought by his identity as a Shichibukai did not seem sufficient.
"Gurarara... Does this brat want my head?"
Whitebeard stared at Maud, who stood beside Little Oars' corpse.
Knocking down the previous wave to rise over their fallen bodies was simply the norm among pirates.
Even he, known as the World's Strongest Man, had become the target of countless pirates.
To put it bluntly, most of the powerhouses sailing these seas took pride in claiming his head.
Furthermore, claiming his head also meant inheriting his reputation as the World's Strongest Man.
Their gazes met in midair.
Whitebeard immediately sensed the battle intent Maud made no effort to conceal.
Some memories that had settled deep within him over time suddenly surged to the surface.
He seemed to have seen eyes and an aura like that somewhere before.
It seemed to be... a man on Roger's ship who had left a fairly deep impression on him, a man with a Devil Fruit ability.
A man who sought out battles like a madman, willing to cast his life aside simply to become stronger.
Whitebeard's gaze suddenly sharpened.
The young brat before him was not merely trying to claim his head, nor was he merely fulfilling the duties of a Shichibukai.
More than anything, he was seeking opportunities to fight and grow stronger without pause in this