PIRATES: I WORK IN NAVY FROM NINE TO FIVE

Dead silence.

The vast battlefield was consumed by an oppressive, suffocating stillness.

All eyes turned toward the motionless giant impaled on the shattered lighthouse.

Everyone—pirates, Marines, journalists, and onlookers alike—stared in utter disbelief.

Dead.

The man known as the strongest in the world.

The head of the Four Emperors.

Edward Newgate—Whitebeard—is dead.

To all who witnessed it, it was like a bolt of lightning cleaving a clear sky.

If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, no one would have believed it.

Some even slapped themselves, trying to jolt out of what felt like a terrible dream.

But the sting on their cheeks proved otherwise.

This was real.

An era had ended.

Whitebeard… was truly gone.

A living legend had fallen, and nothing could change that fact.

"Dead… Whitebeard is dead! Edward Newgate is dead! This is a world-shaking incident! Front-page headline! Move! Get this out now!"

From the sky above, Morgans screamed, manic and ecstatic, his face flushed with disbelief and elation.

He had covered the news for decades. But this—this was a once-in-a-generation story.

Not long ago, Kaido's defeat had stunned the world. A massive event, yes.

But compared to the fall of Whitebeard, even Kaido's demise paled in grandeur.

This was the man whose name defined the era.

This was Whitebeard's time.

What stunned people most, though, wasn't just his death—

But how he chose to die.

A man who had been rampaging seconds before… raised his arms and willingly welcomed death.

Did he truly choose to become the stepping stone for the new era?

"Pops!!"

Ace's cry split the air.

"Marco, let me go! He's not dead yet—we can still save him!"

"Please, Marco… it should've been me… I dragged him and everyone into this. At least let me bring him home…!"

Ace's voice broke into sobs of helplessness.

He looked toward the lighthouse, where Whitebeard still stood tall, blade in hand—

Dead, yet unyielding.

Ace collapsed to his knees, pounding the deck.

He sobbed uncontrollably.

Across the ship, captains and commanders all fell silent.

Some covered their faces. Others wept openly, tears dripping between clenched fingers.

But as they stared at Whitebeard's distant form, their grief ignited something else.

Resolve.

They could not let their father's body remain behind.

"Marco, let's go bring Pops back! Even if it costs us our lives, we won't let him be abandoned!"

Diamond Jozu, still clutching his severed arm, shouted hoarsely.

All around him, voices joined in unison.

They all looked at Marco.

Though Whitebeard had never named a successor, everyone now turned to him—

The First Division Commander.

Not Ace. Despite his Kingly Haki, Ace was still too young, too impulsive.

But Marco…

Marco could carry their will.

Feeling the weight of those stares, Marco clenched his fists.

Then, he took out a pair of tinted glasses and slowly slid them on.

"Pops once told me," he said quietly, "this war will only end when someone dies."

"He said it's better he ends the old era, than let any of us die…"

"And that when it's over… not to bother bringing his body back."

Marco's voice cracked.

"But I can't do that."

"He sheltered us all our lives. It's time we brought him home."

"Even if it means dying with him."

"CHARGE!!!"

Their roars shook the skies.

Even though they knew it was suicidal… even though it was madness—

They chose duty over survival.

Far off, aboard the hidden Reverth—

Shanks exhaled in relief, smiling as he watched the Whitebeard Pirates erupt in fury.

"Whew… I thought Whitebeard's last stand would ruin my entire setup."

"But Marco… he let his emotions take over. That makes things easier."

"Ben Beckman, tell the crew to get ready. Time for our grand entrance."

"Aye, Captain." Beckman nodded, cigar between his lips as he gazed across the ruined battlefield.

The final act was upon them.

And if they were going to step onstage—they needed to make it count.

"DAMNED PIRATES!!"

Akainu's voice thundered across Marineford.

"Whitebeard is dead, and yet you still dare stir chaos?! Do you truly think Marine Headquarters is defenseless?!"

His fury boiled over.

"I never agreed to let you leave alive!"

"Kuzan, freeze the bay!!"

"Luo Yu, assist me! Don't let a single one escape!!"

Akainu's rage flared.

To have Whitebeard snatched from him—**to watch him die by someone else's hand—**was intolerable.

Now, with Marco and the others rushing in headfirst, it was the perfect excuse to retaliate.

But just as Akainu stepped forward—

Luo Yu raised another gourd of wine, took a swig of fiery local liquor, and said lazily:

"Admiral Sakazuki, sorry. It's noon. I'm officially off the clock."

He added, with a casual glance across the bay:

"Besides, stopping them won't be so simple. There's a bunch of lunatics watching from the shadows."

He turned toward the sea.

"You lot hiding out there—how much longer are you going to sit and spectate?"

Lunatics?!

Everyone froze.

Blackbeard's surprise appearance had already shaken Marineford to its core.

Could there really be another group still lurking?

To be called lunatics by the Fourth Admiral Taiote Luo Yu… they had to be terrifying.

Even Akainu tensed, scanning the waves.

Far across the sea, aboard the Reverth, Shanks' crew stiffened.

Luo Yu had found them.

But… how?

Shanks' Conqueror's Haki was so refined that it could nullify future sight, and even block detection entirely.

And yet Luo Yu had called them out with casual ease.

It defied everything they knew.

Shanks chuckled dryly.

"Heh. Didn't expect that kid to be so sharp."

"No wonder he can wield Conqueror's Haki in such terrifying ways."

"Well… since we've been exposed—"

"Let's go introduce ourselves properly."