"Tyrannosaurus! Tyrannosaurus! Tyrannosaurus!"
The Leviathan was battered and broken, almost falling apart. Aboard it, the surviving Marines used the last of their strength to roar the new epithet they had bestowed upon the god they believed in.
Their eyes burned with a fervor hot enough to melt steel. It was as though what they had just experienced was not a disaster of wreckage and death, but a supreme baptism in which they had witnessed a miracle descend.
Three days earlier, their captain, Marine Headquarters Rear Admiral Yas, had clashed head-on with Whitebeard, the World's Strongest Man, and fought him to a standstill.
Like a winged hurricane, the news had swept through every corner of the world in just three days through Morgans's all-pervasive newspaper coverage.
"Tyrannosaurus" Yas!
That name, brimming with violence and dominance, had overnight displaced established legends such as Golden Lion and Big Mom, becoming the hottest-and most terrifying-name in the waters of the New World.
Now, the warship carrying that legend belched thick black smoke, like a battle-hardened veteran staggering back from a battlefield in hell. Slowly, yet with unquestionable majesty, it approached the Marines' largest stronghold in the New World-the G-5 Branch.
The G-5 Branch, fortress command tower.
The atmosphere was oppressively tense.
The base commander, Marine Headquarters Vice Admiral "Demon Bamboo" Vergo, stared grimly out the window at the approaching black warship, which had almost been reduced to a heap of scrap metal.
Beside him, more than a dozen field-grade officers of the G-5 Branch stood silent as cicadas in winter, not daring to breathe loudly.
"Hmph! Tyrannosaurus?" Vergo forced a snort of contempt and jealousy through clenched teeth. The bamboo staff in his hand creaked under his grip. "An ignorant brat who thinks a little brute strength gives him the right to run wild