"Marine ship ahead, identify yourselves!"
"You've entered Pops' territory! Are you trying to start a war?!"
The booming voice, brimming with boldness and oppressive force, struck the Leviathan like a tangible shock wave, carrying an unquestionable air of kingly authority.
Inside the bridge, the Marines had only just recovered from the miraculous sight. When they heard that voice and saw the menacing skull flag with its crescent mustache in the distance, the trace of color that had returned to their faces instantly drained away again.
"Th-the Whitebeard Pirates! It's the Moby Dick!" Adjutant Brannew gripped the edge of the console so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His voice was filled with trembling and fear he had not even noticed himself. "We... we sailed straight into the territorial waters of the strongest man of this era!"
The boundaries of the New World's waters were not clearly defined. But some places were forbidden zones etched into every navigator's bones. And waters flying the crescent-mustached pirate flag were undoubtedly the most dangerous, most inviolable territory of them all. Any pirates who dared provoke them in these waters had long since been sunk, ships and all, ten thousand meters beneath the sea by a power capable of shattering islands.
"We're really done for this time." A young Marine's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor, muttering in despair.
They had barely survived a natural disaster before encountering a man-made one. And this time, that man-made disaster was a legendary pirate who could rival a natural catastrophe, if not surpass it. Were all the people aboard their ship really going to die in this Devil Sea today?
Yet on that bridge shrouded in fear and despair, one figure seemed utterly out of place.
"So noisy."
Yas still stood quietly at the bow.