Under the blue-green flames of Marco's healing, Jozu's wounds quickly closed without leaving so much as a scar.
If not for the murderous tension in the air, one might have wondered whether Jozu had ever been injured at all.
Whitebeard breathed a sigh of relief and took a step forward.
With that single step, Randall felt as though Whitebeard had suddenly grown several times larger.
At that moment, Whitebeard was like an explosive charge on the verge of detonating, his power restrained yet seething.
"Brat, you've got guts.
I admire that, but you hurt my beloved son. I'll have to teach you a lesson!"
Randall smiled, completely ignoring Whitebeard's imposing presence.
"Your beloved son?
Honestly, Whitebeard, everyone in your pirate crew besides you is trash!"
Everyone's expression changed at those words.
They wanted to throw themselves at Randall and tear chunks of flesh off him.
Flames had already flared around Marco, and Vista had drawn both swords.
Whitebeard's brow furrowed.
"No one else has any right to run their mouths about my sons!
Brat, let's see whether you really have what it takes!"
Before he finished speaking, a white glow flickered around Whitebeard's right fist.
He drew it back and punched in one fluid motion.
Crack, crack—
His fist struck empty air.
Yet the air behaved like a solid surface, countless spiderweb cracks spreading outward.
The sea began to churn, and the Moby Dick heaved up and down.
An instant later, an immensely powerful tremor surged toward Randall.
It advanced like an armored division at full speed.
Randall's pupils contracted slightly. Rather than dodge, he threw a punch of his own.
Iron Fist · Armament · Impact Steel!
The two forces met in midair in an instant.
With sheer, brutal force, the violent tremor tore straight through the power of