Chapter 164: 164. Red Hair Meets Whitebeard

Words : 1201 Updated : Oct 4th, 2025

Check out advanced chapters on P@treon: [email protected]/CosmicKaminari ---------- New World. Near the waters surrounding the island of Sphinx, Whitebeard's homeland, the sea was calm, but the atmosphere aboard the Moby Dick was not. Since deploying their fleet and division commanders to claim Kaido's legacy, the flagship had shed its usual carefree cheerfulness. The crew was tense, preparing for the looming battle. As the chaos surrounding Kaido's territories drew the world's attention, the Whitebeard Pirates aimed to strike directly at Wanokuni. It wasn't a full-scale war—at least, not yet. For Whitebeard, the conflict stemmed from a deeper grudge. It had begun with the flag dispute over Fish-Man Island, escalating into a personal vendetta. Whitebeard intended to teach Alex a lesson for meddling where he didn't belong. At first, the plan had been simple: a punitive strike to reclaim what Alex had taken. But as the stakes grew, the idea of retribution evolved into a high-stakes gamble. Publicly announcing their intentions had turned what should have been a focused skirmish into a assault on a formidable opponent. Onboard the Moby Dick Marco, standing at Whitebeard's side and tending to his captain's health, couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. "If only we'd stuck to the original plan," he thought grimly. "We could've focused on Kaido's spoils and avoided this direct confrontation with Alex." It wasn't that Marco feared war—he had unwavering faith in Whitebeard's strength. But as the ship's doctor, he knew better than anyone the toll such battles took on his father. Whitebeard's declining health, though concealed from most of the crew, was no secret to him. "Fighting someone like Alex..." Marco muttered to himself. "The strain alone could worsen the damage." Despite his worries, Marco kept his concerns to himself. He knew better than to question his father's resolve once a decision had been made. A sharp voice cut through Marco's thoughts, coming from the watchtower atop the Moby Dick's mainmast. "Ship sighted! It's coming straight for us! Looks like... the Red-Haired Pirates!" Marco's eyes widened. Wasting no time, he transformed into a phoenix and soared up to the observation deck. Grabbing the binoculars, he focused on the approaching vessel. Sure enough, a three-masted ship with a figurehead resembling a dragon, adorned with two horns, appeared on the horizon. Its black flag bore the emblem of a skull with a red bandana over its left eye. "That's them," Marco confirmed. "It's the Red-Haired Pirates." Though they were relatively new to the New World, the Red-Haired Pirates had already made a name for themselves. Their recent exploits, including their role in toppling a kingdom, had earned them a fierce reputation. More importantly, their captain, Shanks, was a former crewmate of Gol D. Roger, and the Whitebeard veterans were well aware of him. Standing tall at the ship's center, Whitebeard gazed toward the horizon. A nostalgic smile crossed his face as he rumbled, "The kid from Roger's crew..." Before long, the Red-Haired Pirates' ship drew closer. A smaller boat was dispatched, and a crew member sprinted across the Moby Dick's deck to deliver the news. "Pops! Red-Haired Shanks is requesting to see you!" "Gurararara!" Whitebeard's laugh boomed across the deck. "Let the brat come aboard!" After a while, the Red Force drew alongside the Moby Dick and came to a halt. A wooden gangway was lowered, and the crew of the Red-Haired Pirates began ascending, step by step, toward Whitebeard's deck. Leading them was Shanks, dragging a massive jug of wine behind him. "Long time no see, Whitebeard." "The kid from Roger's ship, eh? Looks like you've grown into a man." Even seated, Whitebeard towered over Shanks, his massive frame dwarfing the red-haired captain. His gaze was sharp, his tone flat as he added, "Seeing your face brings back some unpleasant memories." "Then I owe you an apology," Shanks replied smoothly, a grin spreading across his face. He raised the heavy wine jug and heaved it toward Whitebeard. "That's why I brought a gift—some of the finest wine from my hometown. A treasure the captain always held dear." Whitebeard caught the jug effortlessly, uncorking it with a single motion. He sniffed the mouth of the bottle, then took a hearty swig. "Gurararara! Now this is good wine!" Whitebeard bellowed, his laughter booming across the deck. Setting the jug aside, he turned his sharp gaze back to Shanks and the crew gathered behind him. "What's this? You've brought your whole crew to give me a gift? Hoping to get my protection and join my family, eh? Become one of my sons?" At this, Shanks shook his head, his expression lighthearted. "That's not why I'm here. I'd rather take my chances on my own, with the risks and rewards that come with it." His response drew sharp reactions from Whitebeard's crew. "What did you just say?!" one pirate growled. "It's an honor to be one of Pops' sons, and you're looking down on us?" "That's right! You're just a rookie in the New World! Keep that attitude, and you'll be nothing more than fish food after you've tasted the sea's fury!" Shanks didn't flinch at the outbursts. Instead, he smiled nonchalantly, his calm demeanor unnerving those who were quick to anger. For Whitebeard, Shanks' refusal was no surprise. He knew the man before him had inherited Roger's will, and someone like Shanks could never settle for a life under another's banner. The words of his crew were of little consequence, but their behavior grated on him. Before Whitebeard could respond, Marco stepped forward, silencing the complaints with a sharp tone. "Enough! He was a crewmate of Roger's—don't disgrace yourselves with petty insults." The mention of Roger's name instantly silenced the murmuring crew. The sheer weight of the Pirate King's legacy was enough to command respect. Those who had been sneering at Shanks moments earlier now looked at him with a mix of awe and unease. As the tension eased, Whitebeard chuckled, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. "Gurararara! That's a shame, then. But if you ever change your mind, kid, my offer stands. You'll always be welcome aboard my ship." Whitebeard's tone shifted, growing serious. "Now, let's hear it. What's the real reason you're here? Don't tell me you went through all this trouble just to bring me a jug of wine." Shanks' grin faded as he reached into his coat and produced a small wine bowl. Pouring himself a drink, he downed it in one swift motion—a gesture of respect. When he spoke again, his tone was somber. "I've come to ask you to stop the Whitebeard Pirates from waging war on Wanokuni." The atmosphere on the Moby Dick shifted instantly. Whitebeard's eyes narrowed, his gaze heavy with scrutiny. A suffocating tension began to settle over the deck, the once-lively air now laden with an unspoken challenge.

Chapter 164: 164. Red Hair Meets Whitebeard

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