But holding off an exhausted White Ghost should not be too difficult!
"Hm? Marco, want to try?"
Adrian stopped, dismissed the Hollow Mask covering his face, and looked at Marco with a faint smile.
Whitebeard raised his left arm in front of Marco.
"Forget it, Marco."
Whitebeard spoke with complete seriousness.
"White Ghost has too many tricks. You can't handle him."
If White Ghost had been unable to fly, Whitebeard would have kept him on that isolated island, whatever it took.
The trouble was that he could fly—and damn fast, too. Only a top-tier fighter could stand against him...
Just like Golden Lion Shiki back then.
Adrian gave Marco a knowing look and raised an eyebrow at him.
Anyone who thought seven days and six nights of fighting had completely drained Adrian was a fool through and through.
Fortunately, Marco wasn't one...
At least, Whitebeard wasn't.
Marco lowered his eyes and stepped back behind Whitebeard.
The next moment, blue-green flames of regeneration ignited in his palms. He pressed them against Whitebeard, steadily healing the minor injuries Pops had sustained in battle.
Adrian glanced at the now-quiet "father and son," then looked toward a certain part of the island. He nodded, and his figure vanished.
In the dense forest, Shanks, Mihawk, and the others who had been watching in secret exchanged looks.
"Ah! He found us! I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead!"
Buggy let out a shriek and made to run.
"The fight's over. Let's head back to the Red Force together!"
Shanks made the suggestion.
"We've been on Bird Mountain Island long enough. If we stay any longer, the Marine fleet will arrive."
Mihawk touched the enormous hilt of White Blade: Night on his back. He had been about to refuse.
Then he remembered the two demands Adrian had made