Vice-captain of Whitebeard pirates

"Hahaha, we were still searching for those gangsters earlier, but look at this—they've shown up on their own, and right as they appear, they hit us with a blow," Roger said with a smile. Yet, everyone could sense the coldness in his words.

Whitebeard, looking up indifferently, suggested, "Why not destroy this whole place? That way, even if they go underground, they won't survive."

Larson felt immense pressure. Why was everyone so angry? He needed to calm them down, reminding them that their purpose here was to hunt for treasure, not to cause destruction.

Although the Black Hand had killed Blue, enraging everyone, it had also served as a wake-up call. Up until Blue's death, things had gone too smoothly since they arrived on Yerug Island.

Everything had gone so smoothly that people had forgotten how dangerous the place truly was. Larson and his crew had swiftly dealt with any threats, causing others to relax. But Blue's death changed things. It made everyone realize that being protected didn't guarantee safety—they, too, could die.

While it may seem callous to say in light of Blue's death, his demise had a sobering effect on the group.

"We don't need to worry too much about that Black Hand," Larson said. "From what we've seen, its ability is just turning into black water and clinging to people. As long as we stay alert and catch it the moment it appears, we can capture it, just like before."

His plan made sense and seemed the best approach for now. But there were other concerns.

Rayleigh voiced his doubt, "What if it doesn't show up at all?"

Constantly scanning the surroundings, maintaining high vigilance, was exhausting. It was manageable for a short time, but keeping that up indefinitely was beyond what normal people could do. And once they were too tired, that might be when the Black Hand struck.

Gaban, deep in thought, proposed an idea: "Could it be that the Black Hand has its own consciousness?"

He wasn't just guessing. He'd observed the Black Hand's behavior—how it had retreated, evaded, and then launched surprise attacks. It seemed too intelligent for a mere beast.

Larson, however, shook his head. "Think about it. If it really had consciousness, wouldn't its first instinct be to flee and avoid us? Yet, instead, it stayed, choosing to expose itself and even sacrifice a part of itself to kill Blue. From what we've seen, it's more like a wild animal than something with human-level intelligence."

"You make a good point," Gaban admitted, immediately convinced by Larson's reasoning.

Although everyone accepted Larson's words, they all held onto the fact that Blue couldn't have died in vain. Even if they couldn't defeat the Black Hand just yet, they could settle the score somewhere else on the island.

With that, the crew prepared to move out once more.

Suddenly, someone let out a startled cry. A large amount of black matter began seeping out from the ground nearby. It spread across the area, encircling them, leaving only a small space in the middle for Larson and the others. The black matter crept toward them like it was coming to life.

What stunned everyone even more was when arms and bodies began to emerge from the black substance. Within moments, black giants formed from the ooze.

Their dark eyes locked onto Larson and the others like hunters eyeing their prey.

In the next second, they lunged toward the group, moving like the black water underfoot.

But Larson and the others were ready. Even in the face of this grim sight, Reilly joked, "We were about to leave, but it seems they don't want to let us go."

Dozens of black giants and countless waves of black water—a scene that should have terrified anyone. Yet, none of them showed fear.

The Whitebeard Pirates' eyes were full of disdain, while the Roger Pirates' eyes burned with anger.

"Since they've decided to train themselves on us, let's give them a lesson," Larson said, his calm eyes surveying the scene.

Standing beside him, Roger grinned and quipped, "I think we might as well give this guy the captain's seat. Honestly, compared to him, he's more of a captain than I am."

Everyone who knew Roger understood he wasn't serious—just a joke.

Whitebeard nodded in agreement. "I've thought of giving him the captain's role too."

Roger's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Really?"

Whitebeard touched his blond hair and replied, "Yeah, but he didn't agree."

When Larson first joined Whitebeard's crew, there was actually a lighthearted argument between them about who should be the captain. But it wasn't a clash of egos—rather, both were trying to pass the role off to the other.

Whitebeard had wanted Larson to take the captain's position, but Larson, knowing the future events from the plot, would never take up such a role! In the end, Whitebeard didn't "lose" and ended up becoming the captain as fate intended.

Rayleigh, who had been listening in from the side, found it hard to believe that such a bizarre discussion had taken place.

Meanwhile, the battle was on the verge of breaking out. The black giants and the black tide were advancing rapidly, now only a few dozen meters away. Yet, there wasn't a shred of nervousness among the crew. Some of them were even casually fishing—a scene so absurd it would be impossible for anyone but Amen to pull off.

Larson, standing a bit farther back, could hear their conversation perfectly. He let out a small, knowing grin but chose to ignore Whitebeard and the rest.

His focus shifted to the oncoming threat. "It's going to be a problem if any of us get touched by that stuff," Larson remarked seriously, his gaze fixed on the black matter.

Blue had been taken over by these things earlier, and it had cost him his life. That alone was enough to show how deadly contact with the black ooze could be.

Roger stepped forward, his usual grin present. "I'm not sure if it'll do anything, but I think it's worth a shot."