"You... how many more of my punches can you take?"
When Yas's hoarse, crazed challenge reached the Moby Dick loud and clear, the appreciative smile on Whitebeard's face froze.
He still wants to fight? Is this brat made of iron? With injuries that serious, he's still thinking about fighting? And from the sound of it, that world-shattering blow just now was only a warm-up.
Whitebeard glanced at his battered flagship, then at the "sons" behind him, their fighting spirit high but most of them already wounded. In the end, he shook his head helplessly. He loved fighting, and he loved strong opponents even more. But he was the Pops of the Whitebeard Pirates. He could not risk his family's lives for a moment's pleasure.
If he kept fighting this madman who defied all convention, even if he ultimately won, he would probably lose his ship and more than half the sons aboard it. That was not a worthwhile trade.
"Gurarararara!" Whitebeard burst into laughter again. He hoisted the enormous Murakumogiri onto his shoulder and called boldly to Yas, "Brat! Let's leave it here for today!"
"I'm not interested in keeping a battle maniac like you company to the bitter end in a dump like this!"
"Your ship's about to sink too, isn't it? If you don't head back for repairs, those poor men of yours will be feeding the fish right alongside you!"
Whitebeard's words instantly sobered the wildly cheering Marine soldiers aboard the Leviathan. They looked down at the warship beneath their feet, slowly sinking and belching black smoke everywhere. Indeed, if the fighting continued, they might truly be wiped out.
"Tch." Yas clicked his tongue in irritation.
He could feel Whitebeard's will to fight fading. He also knew his ship's condition really would not allow the battle to