Chapter 173: 173. Hidden Dangers Of The Whitebeard Group

Words : 1230 Updated : Oct 4th, 2025

Check out advanced chapters on P@treon: [email protected]/CosmicKaminari ---------- After enduring the high-intensity tension of the day, the Whitebeard Pirates were far from their usual cheerful and relaxed selves. By nightfall, many of the crew retreated to their dormitories, where they discussed the day's events with their bunkmates. The awe-inspiring battle and its repercussions dominated their conversations. Though Alex's voluntary departure had brought the confrontation to an official close, the Red-Haired Pirates had not yet left. Their flagship, the Red Force, remained docked closely beside the Moby Dick. One of their crew, Hongo, a skilled ship doctor who had traversed the Four Blues and the Grand Line's first half, was now providing his medical expertise to assist Whitebeard. In the absence of a celebratory banquet—a rare occurrence for the Whitebeard Pirates—Whitebeard was confined to his master cabin. It served not only as a place of rest but also as a space where the ship's doctors could tend to him without interruption. "Shanks, we owe you a lot this time," Marco said, standing apart from the doorway to Whitebeard's quarters. Despite being the Whitebeard Pirates' chief doctor, Marco was focused on expressing gratitude rather than immediately attending to his captain. Whether it was the medical assistance Hongo now provided or Shanks' earlier efforts to de-escalate the battle and prevent further chaos aboard the Moby Dick, Marco couldn't deny that their interventions had been critical. As the first division commander and effectively the second-in-command, he understood the importance of showing appreciation, even if it was difficult to admit. Shanks waved off the thanks with a casual gesture. "It's nothing. I just didn't want things to spiral out of control." Marco glanced at Shanks but remained silent. Though reluctant to admit it, Marco understood the truth. After Whitebeard's battle with Alex, if a full-scale conflict had broken out between the Whitebeard Pirates and Wanokuni, it might have escalated into a catastrophic situation—one similar to the chaotic conflicts involving Kaido and Big Mom. And there was no denying the outcome of today's fight. The battle between Whitebeard and the Flying Admiral had been witnessed by everyone. The results, already murmured among the crew, were likely spreading through the fleet like wildfire. As much as it pained Marco, the truth was unavoidable: Alex, the Flying General, was now the strongest man in the world. With time, Marco knew, the gap between his father and Alex would only grow wider. Alex's position as the strongest would only solidify, while Whitebeard's advancing age and worsening health would weaken him further. Though Marco had long come to terms with the reality that Whitebeard would not rule forever, the events of today raised an uncomfortable question: how would the rest of the crew react? The Whitebeard Pirates were not just a crew—they were a family. Many members had joined, inspired by Whitebeard's unparalleled strength and reputation as the world's strongest man. But now, after seeing the undeniable result of today's battle, Marco feared how some might respond. Would they begin to doubt Whitebeard's strength? Would they question the Whitebeard Pirates' dominance as the New World's most powerful crew? And worse, would some of them, unable to reconcile their disillusionment, choose to leave the crew entirely? Still weighed down by his thoughts, Marco's mood remained sour. Deciding he had no desire to continue chatting with Shanks, he turned and made his way to his father's quarters. Several hours later, as the night stretched toward midnight, the Red Force finally departed from the Moby Dick. "Phew! What a day—this has been exhausting!" Back aboard their ship, the core members of the Red-Haired Pirates finally allowed themselves to relax, their tension melting away. "Shanks sure knows how to make things stressful, acting so recklessly," Yasopp muttered, rubbing his arms. "Honestly, when we were staring down the two top dogs of Wanokuni and the Whitebeard commanders, I couldn't even steady my gun." "Hahaha! You're just soft," Lucky Roux teased, casually lighting fireworks and setting out supper. The rest of the crew burst into laughter, the mood light and carefree once more. Yet beneath the surface, every one of them understood the gravity of what they had witnessed that day. The terrifying, world-shattering power displayed by Whitebeard and Alex had left a deep impression on them all. In truth, they were still relatively new to the New World, and their laughter masked the lingering fear. It was a coping mechanism, a way to dispel the unease brought on by witnessing such overwhelming strength. Shanks chuckled as well. Though the day's events had taken an unexpected turn, he was relieved that things had not spiraled into the kind of catastrophe he'd feared. After a moment, Shanks turned his attention to Hongo who had been assisting Whitebeard earlier. "How's Whitebeard holding up?" he asked, his tone serious. Hongo pushed up his glasses before responding. "His condition is relatively bad, but thanks to his monstrous physique and the care he's receiving, he should recover before long." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "However, Whitebeard is suffering from numerous hidden ailments, and they're worsening. With these injuries piling up, it'll be difficult for him to maintain his strength in the long run." Shanks sighed and nodded solemnly. "It's to be expected. Whitebeard's getting old." Lucky Roux handed Shanks a drink, which he downed in one go. Then, with a grin, Shanks addressed his crew. "Well, since we've made it through today without disaster, it's time to focus on carving out our path in the New World." Despite the current balance between the two emperors, Shanks knew that Whitebeard's age was an undeniable factor. No one could predict when an accident or an unexpected event might shake the established order. With over a decade still to come before the true storm hit, there was only one course of action for the Red-Haired Pirates: to prepare for the future. Shanks leaned back and stretched, his trademark smile lighting up his face. "So, got any plans for how we're gonna do that?" "I should be the one asking you," Benn Beckman replied with a smirk, taking a drag from his cigarette. "After all, you're the captain." "Really?" Shanks teased. "Aren't you supposed to be the brains of this operation?" Beckman exhaled slowly, his expression thoughtful. "If you want my take, we should lie low for the next few years. Compared to the established powers of the New World, our strength and influence aren't nearly enough to compete just yet. We're not ready to challenge the big players in their fight for supremacy." The crew nodded in agreement. While Shanks and Beckman were formidable in their own right, the rest of the crew still lacked the strength and experience needed to face the monstrous forces that ruled the New World. For now, patience was their best weapon. Meanwhile, Alex returned to the General's City, greeted by his retainers, both great and small. Their cheers filled the air, as did their reverence for their leader. There was no doubt in anyone's mind: after his triumph over Whitebeard, their general had risen to become the strongest man in the world.

Chapter 173: 173. Hidden Dangers Of The Whitebeard Group

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