One Piece: Curse of Immortality

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The sound of a blade piercing flesh rang out—thud!—sending shockwaves through everyone present except for Crocodile.

"Boss!?" The crew's faces twisted in disbelief. 

The first thing their leader, Arashi, did upon waking up was attempt to end his own life by slashing his neck with a blade.

Screams erupted. "Aaaaah!"

The terrifying man who had fought the world's strongest and ended in a draw was now taking his life before their very eyes! 

Why? Confusion, fear, and disbelief flashed through their minds as they stood frozen, like electricity coursing through their bodies.

What happened next was even more shocking.

The blade, undoubtedly razor-sharp, easily sliced through the flesh and tissues connecting Arashi's neck and head. 

His head flew into the air. Anyone else would have been unquestionably dead from such a scene.

But in just a second, something incredible happened. 

The severed head vanished mid-air, and before their very eyes, a new head grew from Arashi's neck. 

His battered, swollen features were completely restored as if none of the injuries from the brutal battle had ever existed. 

Even the internal damage and exhaustion disappeared without a trace. In an instant, Arashi stood before them, unharmed and refreshed.

"Wha—what?!"

"Boss is fine!"

The crew's fear deepened. Compared to slowly recovering from injuries, this miraculous, instantaneous healing was far more terrifying.

"What kind of monster are we following?!" they thought.

"That was an interesting fight," Arashi remarked, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. 

The battle had consumed every ounce of his energy, yet no victor had emerged. 

Purely in terms of strength, he seemed evenly matched with Whitebeard. Of course, that was assuming he hadn't used any of his more "broken" abilities.

Suddenly, he let out a soft sigh. "The next time we meet might be at the Summit War," he murmured. 

"When that day comes, I'll send you on your way."

Arashi closed his eyes, his exhaustion finally overtaking him. 

While the physical toll of the battle was manageable, the mental fatigue weighed heavily on him, leaving him too drained to move further.

Crocodile blinked at his commander, who fell asleep when his head hit the pillow. A faint smile curved on Crocodile's lips.

"As expected," he muttered, "you're still stronger."

Turning sharply, Crocodile's gaze landed coldly on the crew. "Forget everything you just saw," he commanded icily. "Otherwise…"

On the Moby Dick, tension filled the air as Marco and the other officers gathered around the massive bed. 

The ship's doctor worked tirelessly, sweat dripping from his brow.

"I've never seen Pops this badly injured before!"

"Arashi's strength is terrifying," one of them admitted quietly.

The doctor scowled. "A confrontation without dodging or blocking—how could you let Pops make such a reckless decision?"

After working for hours, the doctor finally exhaled in relief. 

Being in his prime, Whitebeard would recover, but the severity of his injuries meant lasting damage was unavoidable.

Whitebeard slowly opened his eyes, taking in the IV drip and his sons' worried faces. Then, a booming laugh erupted from him.

"Gurararara! What's with those worried faces? I'm not dead yet!"

He paused, his gaze sharpening. "I was just a little tired and took a nap!"

Marco and the others remained uneasy, their concern evident as Whitebeard's injuries were visible.

"Pops, you—" Marco began, but Whitebeard cut him off with a dismissive wave.

"No need to worry about me," Whitebeard said with a small grin. "If I were to fall in a battle like that, I wouldn't deserve to be called Whitebeard!"

His eyes gleamed with excitement. "What a glorious fight!" he exclaimed. "Since Roger's death, I haven't experienced a battle like that!"

"To think a Marine could be so strong!" he added, laughing again. "It set my blood boiling!"

The officers exchanged glances, but seeing their father's energetic demeanour, they sighed in relief.

The doctor continued treating Whitebeard's injuries while the latter remained relaxed, instructing Jozu to prepare food and Marco to bring sake.

"Pops, you're still severely injured!" Marco protested.

"Shut it! These wounds are nothing!" Whitebeard barked. "Every fight I had with Roger left me worse off than this!"

He winced as pain shot through his body but still grinned. "Next time, I'll win for sure!" he declared. "This time, I just drank too much before the fight!"

Despite the pain, his spirit was unyielding. Whitebeard felt invigorated, as if he could jump back into battle immediately. His boundless energy was awe-inspiring.

As days passed, news of the world-shaking battle slowly began to spread.

Sengoku received the report at Marineford, the Marine headquarters.

"A draw?" he murmured, stunned. "Arashi fought Whitebeard to a draw?"

After a moment, Sengoku exhaled deeply, his expression shifting to relief.

"That's already an incredible result," he said. "After all… that's Whitebeard we're talking about."

His tone carried a mix of awe and exhilaration as he processed the implications of the clash.

Undoubtedly, Arashi's strength stands at the pinnacle of the Marine forces. Most importantly, he is still young. 

As the current generation of Marine leaders gradually ages, it's clear that Arashi will one day become the organization's strongest force.

"If only his relationship with Marine Headquarters were better…" Sengoku sighed, his expression tinged with regret. 

If Arashi could fully follow the directives of the headquarters, the growing Great Pirate Era could be easily suppressed. 

The Marines might even launch a counteroffensive into the New World, potentially wiping out the Whitebeard Pirates.

"This can only be resolved gradually over time," Sengoku murmured, his eyes flickering with determination. 

Despite the challenges, he still held hope. After all, Arashi's philosophy of justice naturally aligned closely with his own.

"In my tenure as Fleet Admiral," Sengoku thought, "I will strive to accommodate and implement the justice you pursue."

The aftermath of the Ohara Incident had left many in the Marines reflecting deeply. 

From a moral perspective, most Marines even supported Arashi's actions. 

However, they couldn't defy the World Government openly, as maintaining appearances between the two entities was still crucial.

After all, who among the Marines didn't begin their career with idealistic dreams of justice and noble aspirations? 

But time and harsh reality had doused the flames of many a dream.

Meanwhile, at Mary Geoise.

"This battle has only circulated in limited circles and hasn't shaken the world."

"Arashi's strength cannot be ignored. To think he could fight that man to a draw…"

"I hear he's already turned the West Blue into an impenetrable fortress, treating its Marine branch as his private army!"

"What a bold individual!"

"So, how do you plan to handle him?"

Five aged voices echoed through the vast, empty chamber.

"The next World Conference is scheduled for next year," Topman Warcury, the Saint of Legal Affairs, said gravely. "Perhaps we should meet him in person."

"You want to uncover his intentions?" Marcus Mars, the Saint of Environmental Affairs, responded calmly.

"That might be a good approach. The World Conference would be the perfect pretext," he added. "If we bring him to Mary Geoise, we can respond based on his actions."

"Recruit him or eliminate him—the choice will be ours," Jaygarcia Saturn, the Saint of Scientific Defense, concluded.

"Then let's proceed," Saint Ethanbaron V. Nasujuro of Finance said coldly. "Extend an invitation to Cobra of Alabasta and have him bring Arashi along!"

"Then, we'll get a closer look at this Marine who has been causing such a stir in recent years!"

The five quickly reached a consensus and began formulating detailed plans. 

They were beginning to realize that Arashi was an issue that could no longer be ignored—a problem that needed resolution soon.

.....

"Well, this is goodbye, for now, Crocodile," Arashi said with a stretch.

"Thank you for forgiving my foolish mistakes. I promise it won't happen again," Crocodile replied earnestly.

"Just focus on doing your part," Arashi said calmly. "After all, who hasn'tharbouredd ambition in their youth? But…"

He paused, looking ahead with a faint smile.

"Now that you've realized the gap, it's time to put in the effort to grow stronger!" he said. "Only the strong have the right to speak in this world."

Crocodile froze momentarily before nodding resolutely. "Understood!"

"Our future enemies may surpass anything you can imagine," Arashi added casually.

In the next instant, his figure vanished, shooting into the sky as a streak of lightning that disappeared into the horizon.

Crocodile stood silently for a long moment before letting out a deep breath.

"Even stronger enemies…" he muttered, his expression growing serious.

A subordinate behind him hesitated before asking, "Boss, where are we heading next?"

At the question, a cold light flashed in Crocodile's eyes as he spun around.

"Straight to hell!"

Sand erupted around him, sweeping across his subordinates. In mere seconds, they were reduced to dry husks, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

"I hate talkative fools," Crocodile muttered, lighting a cigar.

Had it not been for loose lips that day, his superior wouldn't have come to the West Blue, leading to that monumental battle and forcing him to clean up the mess.

"Baroque Works," Crocodile mused aloud. "I will see it built, no matter what."

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