At that moment, only three people remained in the bar: Miland, standing silently behind the counter, Su Yu, reading a book, and a languid, pineapple-haired middle-aged man.
Miland recognized Marco. Over the past month, Su Yu had made sure he learned about this world, from its famous figures and the relationships between its various factions to basic common knowledge, successfully freeing Miland from his ignorance.
Miland knew that even though his boss was reading, nothing happening in the bar could escape his senses. So, while Marco's actions hurt the bar's business, since Su Yu hadn't objected outright, Miland hadn't spoken up to stop him either.
Just then, Su Yu put down his book, stood up, and stretched with exaggerated flair before turning to Marco.
"Captain Marco, you chased away all my customers for no reason. Do you know how much money that's going to cost me?"
"You must be joking, boss. Would someone like you really care about money?"
Despite saying that, Marco still took out a bag of gold coins and tossed it to Miland.
"Consider those coins an apology. There are a few things I'd rather other people didn't hear, so I had to clear everyone out first. I hope you'll forgive me, yoi."
Marco was fairly polite to people who weren't his enemies. By pirate standards, his moral compass was pretty sound.
Huh? If someone's moral compass was sound by ordinary standards, wouldn't that make it completely crooked by pirate standards?
Miland caught the bag and opened it. Whoa, that's a lot. The Whitebeard Pirates really do have money to burn.
Seeing how considerate Marco was, Su Yu nodded in satisfaction.
Su Yu got straight to the point. "Tell me, what do you wish for? As long as you can pay the price, I can grant it."
Seeing that his boss was about to discuss business, Miland took the bag of gold upstairs.
Marco's gaze flickered. "I was wondering whether you have anything here that could restore someone's vitality?"
"Oh, so you're here for Whitebeard."
That reminded Su Yu that Whitebeard was apparently already seventy. And the fruit he'd eaten was the sort that hurt its user as well as his enemies, like the Seven Injuries Fist. Lasting this long certainly lived up to his title of World's Strongest.
When Su Yu plainly stated his reason for coming, even Marco's breathing faltered. How did Su Yu know I came here for Pops? Has word of Pops's poor health already gotten out?
If he hadn't retained some sense of reason, he might already have been preparing to kill him to keep him quiet.
Su Yu said, "Hey, relax. Anyone who didn't know better would think you were about to hit me. You're scaring me to death."
Despite claiming to be scared to death, Su Yu's tone was as bland as plain water. He showed no sign of being frightened at all.
Yet that calm voice seemed to possess a kind of magic, soothing Marco as well.
Su Yu said, "Come on, you don't honestly still think nobody knows about Whitebeard's condition, do you? He's an old man, after all."
Marco wanted to argue, but when he opened his mouth, he realized there was nothing he could really dispute. Yes, the Pops who had once been so spirited, with an awe-inspiring presence and a flowing head of hair, was no longer young. There was no point in deceiving themselves anymore.
Su Yu stepped forward and patted Marco on the shoulder. "All right, let's stop talking about something so depressing. So your wish is..."
"...to restore Whitebeard's health, right?"
Marco nodded silently.
Su Yu said, "That's a very simple wish. I have two options. The first is to heal Whitebeard's lingering injuries and put his body back in order, restoring his health so he no longer suffers from illness and pain. That will cost five Devil Fruits, of any type. The second is to restore Whitebeard directly to his prime. That will cost ten Devil Fruits, at least two of which must be Logia Devil Fruits. So, Captain Marco, which would you like?"
At the words "restore him to his prime," Marco's eyes went wide.
His instinct was disbelief. After all, nobody understood Whitebeard's condition better than he did. Whitebeard was in terrible, terrible shape. At night, the pain sometimes kept him from sleeping. He had reached the point where he needed medical equipment just to stay alive.
Before coming here, Marco hadn't actually held out much hope. He would have been satisfied if he could simply ease Whitebeard's suffering a little. He hadn't even imagined that Su Yu could restore Whitebeard to full health, much less dared to dream of returning him to his prime.
But what did I just hear? Five Devil Fruits could restore Pops's health? And they could be any type? Just ten Devil Fruits could accomplish something I wouldn't even dare dream of-restoring Pops to his prime?
Was something like that really possible?
But the person saying it was Su Yu. He had absolutely no need to lie, nor any reason to do so.
Given Su Yu's strength, saying Marco believed this fantastical claim without a shadow of doubt might have been an exaggeration, but it wasn't far off.
As for which of the two options to choose, did that even need asking? The second, of course!
Wasn't it just ten Devil Fruits? Just two Logia Devil Fruits? That might be an astronomical fortune to anyone else, but for the Whitebeard Pirates, the crew of one of the Four Emperors, it was pocket change!
Ten Devil Fruits in exchange for Pops in his prime? To Marco, that was an incredible bargain!
Without the slightest hesitation, Marco was about to give Su Yu his answer.
But just as he opened his mouth to speak, the bar's door swung open, and a tall, powerfully built figure walked inside.
The newcomer was a little surprised to find the bar so empty. Then his gaze landed on Su Yu standing nearby, with Marco opposite him, apparently discussing something with him.
The sight of Marco made the man pause. A trace of darkness crossed his face, but a moment later, he broke into a sinister grin. As for why it was sinister, that was probably because he looked so sinister himself that everything he did came across that way.
"Zehahahaha! Well, if it isn't Captain Marco. It's been a long time!"
The instant Marco saw him, his entire presence changed. A moment ago, he had looked like an apathetic, washed-up middle-aged man, harmless and mild. Now he was like a long blade still dripping blood, his whole body radiating menace, the murderous intent in his eyes almost spilling over.
His fists clenched tight, and every muscle in his body instinctively tensed. Grinding his back teeth, Marco forced the words out through them.
"Black! Beard!"
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