Vice-captain of Whitebeard pirates

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When Plank and Marco returned, their clean clothes were already stained with blood.

Larson noticed that something was off with their expressions and said in a gentle tone, "Go and change into clean clothes and take a rest."

"Yeah." Marco and Plank walked into the cabin with their heads down.

Whitebeard smiled and remarked, "It's quite interesting. These two little guys killed so many people but look so scared."

"After all, it's their first time. It's good for them to get over this hurdle," Larson said.

While Marco and the others rested, Larson steered the ship toward the Golden Monkey Pirates.

As they drew closer, the scene on the opposing ship came into view.

There was blood everywhere, and the bodies of dozens of pirates lay scattered across the deck.

"These two guys are quite capable."

Larson jumped onto the enemy ship, walked into the cabin, and searched for a while before emerging with a large box in his arms.

He called out to Whitebeard, who was lounging in the Taishi chair, "Come and help."

"What?" Whitebeard looked impatient. "What are you doing with those things?"

Larson maneuvered the boxes onto their ship and replied with a smile, "These are our trophies—why not take them?"

When he opened the boxes, they were filled with gold and silver jewelry.

However, there were many boxes like this onboard the Golden Monkey Pirates' ship.

"What a fat catch!" Larson exclaimed, astonished that the Golden Monkey Pirates were actually richer than they were.

It was a sad situation, considering that the Whitebeard Pirates had two members with bounties in the hundreds of millions, yet they carried very little wealth aboard.

Whitebeard helped Larson move all the boxes back, and by this point, Marco and Plank had also returned.

"How about it?" Larson inquired, looking at the two.

"How about what?"

"How does it feel to kill someone?"

Marco curled his lips, "It was just so-so. I thought it would be scarier than that."

The tough-tongued demeanor Marco was putting on made Larson laugh, as he recalled the look of wanting to vomit that had been on Marco's face when they returned.

"Wow, that's a lot of money!" Gangplank exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight of the treasure.

Larson smiled and said, "With this money, we can build a larger ship."

He never forgot about the Moby-Dick.

"Ah?" Marco asked, confused. "Isn't our ship fine? Why do we need a new one?"

Larson was too lazy to explain to the younger pirate and ordered, "Don't ask so many questions; just help move all these boxes into the cabin quickly."

"Tch, don't say anything when you ask; just make us do the work." Marco complained as he went about his task.

Plank was more compliant, working diligently without complaint and following Larson's orders.

There's no harm in comparison.

Larson was quite satisfied with Plank. He patted him on the shoulder and said, "Plank, keep it up. The position of captain of the hardworking team will be yours."

Marco was stunned. "Didn't you say I was the captain of the first team?"

Larson shrugged. "Sorry, but the final decision belongs to the captain."

Marco felt as if he were getting bullied by Larson. "Pops!"

Every time Larson picked on him, Marco would turn to Whitebeard for help. Typically, Whitebeard would smile and encourage him but remain indifferent to the situation.

This time was no different; having just finished moving boxes, Whitebeard lounged comfortably in his chair. Hearing Marco's plea, he simply replied without turning his head, "Marco, Pops believes you can handle it."

Marco fell silent, realizing his father hadn't quite grasped what he was saying.

Larson grinned and declared, "In this world, strength commands respect, and our Whitebeard Pirates are no exception. If you can beat Gangplank, the captain of the first team will still be yours—no one can take that away from you."

Marco's eyes lit up. "Is that what you said?"

"I did," Larson confirmed.

Suddenly filled with fighting spirit, Marco declared, "Just wait and see!"

He picked up a box and rushed off.

Gangplank, now inexplicably Marco's rival, felt uneasy about the entire situation.

What just happened? He hadn't done anything to deserve this!

Larson felt great amusement at having successfully toyed with Marco again.

"Alright Plank, you go ahead and sail the ship. Marco can handle all the heavy lifting himself."

"It's... well."

Plank set off to pilot the ship, while Larson walked to the back, where the Sea King he had killed earlier was tied down with a rope.

He sighed. It seemed that the Whitebeard Pirates were really looking for a chef.

In recent days, their food issues had been handled by Plank, but what could be said about his cooking? It was just enough to prevent starvation but nothing more. If they wanted better meals, it simply wasn't feasible.

Unfortunately, of the four people on the ship, only Plank could cook. When they were on the island, they hadn't been picky about food, but at sea, it was critical to replenish their strength, or they could face serious consequences.

"It seems the search for a chef is becoming urgent."

Larson was unaware of who had solved the Whitebeard Pirates' food problem in the original storyline. He had initially planned for the current Whitebeard Pirates to develop organically and gradually follow the original path of the crew, with new members joining one by one.

However, it was clear that this plan was no longer feasible. The course of the Whitebeard Pirates had significantly deviated from the original timeline.

In the original storyline, the Whitebeard Pirates might have only begun to rise, but Larson's presence had created a ripple effect. Today, few people on the seas were unaware of the Whitebeard Pirates. The trajectory was altered, and Larson no longer knew whether the crew would eventually resemble the familiar Whitebeard Pirates.

After breakfast, Larson and Whitebeard faced each other across a chessboard covered with black and white pieces.

Marco stood by, watching the match unfold.

The sea could be dull at times, as traveling from island to island often took a long while.

This game of chess was a way for Larson to pass the time, but he hadn't expected Whitebeard to become so engrossed that he would refrain from drinking, insisting on playing two games with Larson each day.

However, his playing skills were decidedly lacking; he loved to play but struggled to compete.

It was Whitebeard's turn to move. He carefully picked up a black piece with his large, rough hands.

As he lowered the piece, he continued observing Larson. Noticing Larson's relaxed eyebrows, he quickly raised the piece back up.

Larson blinked in surprise. "Oh, you!"

Whitebeard chuckled. "I made a mistake; it doesn't count."

Larson sighed. "Alright, fine."

This time, Whitebeard shifted his focus and still kept an eye on Larson during his move.

He noticed Larson frowning and grinned confidently as he dropped the piece.

"Okay, your turn."

"Hiss."

Larson looked flustered as he held a white piece, unsure where to place it.

Whitebeard beamed with pride.

"Marco, is Pops great?"

Marco quickly turned into a sycophant. "Pops is amazing! Looks like this guy Marco is losing."

At that moment, Larson finally made his move. When Whitebeard saw where Larson's piece landed, his smile froze instantly.

At the same time, Marco's joy faded.

"Five in a row—I won." Larson's expression remained calm. However, the calmer he was, the more embarrassed Whitebeard and Marco both became.

The atmosphere suddenly fell silent.

Whitebeard stared at the chessboard in front of him, struggling to comprehend how he had lost.

Larson took a sip of beer, which tasted like tea to him.

In reality, how could he not see the glimmer in Whitebeard's eyes? He had feigned his calmness to confuse the legendary pirate.

This small game felt like a mental duel between the two.

Although Larson's skills weren't particularly refined, Whitebeard's were even worse. Despite being a novice, Larson always managed to find a way to outmaneuver him.

"Let's go again!"

Whitebeard clamored for another round, but Larson felt he had played enough. Defeating Whitebeard twice a day had become a routine goal.

"Let's pick this up again tomorrow."

Seeing Larson's reluctance, Whitebeard's mood soured. "I think you're afraid, and that's why you won't dare to challenge me."

Marco stood by, slightly helpless. Could Larson really be caught by such a petty provocation?

"Hmph, I'll take you on!"

Marco realized he had been tricked.

This time, thanks to a blunder by Larson, Whitebeard finally secured a win.

Instantly, Whitebeard's excited cheers filled the ship: "Hahaha! I won! I won!"

Larson feigned dissatisfaction. "I made a mistake in that game; it doesn't count. Let's do another round."

Whitebeard retorted, "Why doesn't it count? It was your mistake, not mine."

Who would have thought that these two pirates, capable of shaking the world, would bicker over a simple game of chess?

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