It didn't take long for the news to explode across the seas.
"Yonko Phoenix Marco Launches Surprise Attack on Holy Land Mary Geoise!"
The headlines scread from every newspaper.
According to the official report, Marco had infiltrated the Holy Land and set massive fires, reducing parts of Mary Geoise to a sea of flas. His actions were described as "heinous," "lawless," and "an unforgivable provocation."
Notably absent from the report was any ntion of dead celestial dragons.
The World Governnt had been careful.
Very careful.
Still, even without that detail, the world was shaken.
Since the Fish-Man Tiger incident more than a decade ago, no one had dared to openly challenge the World Governnt on such a scale. And unlike Tiger—who had freed slaves—Marco's attack appeared purely aggressive.
A Yonko had struck the Holy Land directly.
That alone was enough to send shockwaves through the seas.
In the New World, reactions varied.
Kaido and Big Mom were both displeased.
The Three Emperors Alliance had only just ford, yet Marco had acted alone—without consultation, without warning.
Such unilateral action in a fragile alliance bred distrust.
However, dissatisfaction was useless now.
Marco had already lit the fuse.
If the Marines retaliated, Kaido and Big Mom would inevitably be dragged into the conflict. Both crews quietly shifted into a state of high alert, bracing for a possible large-scale offensive.
The seas were growing restless.
anwhile—Marine Base G-5.
Life proceeded as usual.
Patrols were ongoing. Reports were being processed. Officers moved through the corridors with disciplined efficiency.
Inside his office, newly appointed Vice Admiral Smoker sat at his desk, reading the latest newspaper with a grim expression.
Marco's na was printed in bold across the front page.
Just as he exhaled a cloud of smoke—
BOOM!!!
A deafening explosion shook the base.
The entire structure trembled violently.
Smoker shot to his feet.
"What the hell was that?!"
Tashigi, who had been organizing docunts nearby, imdiately turned toward him.
"Vice Admiral Smoker!"
"Co with !" Smoker barked. "We're checking this out!"
"Yes, sir!"
The two rushed outside.
What greeted them made Smoker's pupils contract sharply.
Marine soldiers lay scattered across the plaza—unconscious.
Dozens of them.
In the very center stood a single figure.
Black flas coiled around him like living serpents, burning fiercely yet unnaturally silent. The heat warped the air, and an oppressive aura spread outward like an invisible storm.
Smoker's jaw tightened.
"You're… Phoenix Marco?"
Marco slowly turned his head.
His gaze was calm. Amused.
Behind him, the plaza was scorched black.
"Vice Admiral Smoker," Marco said lightly. "Logia user. Smoke-Smoke Fruit."
A faint smirk curved his lips.
"If I used you as a bargaining chip… I wonder if Sakazuki would be willing to negotiate?"
Smoker's face darkened instantly.
The Marco before him felt completely different from the man at Marineford.
The aura.
The pressure.
It was dozens of tis stronger.
And those flas—
They were black.
Not the blue Phoenix fire he rembered.
The air around Marco felt heavy, ominous—like standing before a natural disaster.
Yet Smoker did not step back.
As commander of G-5, retreat was not an option.
He drew his jitte sharply from his back, its seastone tip glinting in the sunlight.
"I don't know why a Yonko would show up at G-5," Smoker said coldly. "But this is my base."
His voice hardened.
"Since you're here—"
"Prepare to surrender."
For a mont, silence hung in the air.
Then Marco laughed.
A low, amused sound.
"Your confidence is admirable," he said casually.
The black flas flickered.
"But relax."
"I'm not here to take your life."
The atmosphere shifted.
Because if he wasn't here to kill—
Then what was he here for? And why did that feel even more dangerous?
In the next instant, the black flas coiling around Marco erupted violently.
They surged upward and unfurled into a pair of vast, majestic wings—each feather forged from Destruction Black Fla.
With a single beat—
He vanished.
"So fast…!" Smoker's eyes widened.
He didn't even have ti to issue orders. Behind him, his subordinates were still scrambling into formation.
He couldn't dodge.
Instead, he acted.
His body dissolved into swirling white smoke, rushing forward to et Marco head-on.
If he couldn't avoid it—
He would intercept it.
The two collided midair.
Marco's fist, wrapped in Armant Haki and crackling with Conqueror's lightning, smashed forward without hesitation.
BOOM!
The impact detonated like thunder.
Smoker's body spun violently—one full rotation, then another—before he was blasted downward. He hit the ground with crushing force, the stone beneath him fracturing instantly.
When the dust cleared—
He lay still.
Unconscious.
"Vice Admiral Smoker!"
"Smoker Boss!"
The surrounding Marines roared in fury and panic, rushing forward to protect their commander.
But before they could take three steps—
A terrifying wave of Conqueror's Haki exploded outward from Marco.
Like a black tidal surge, it swept across the plaza.
One by one, Marines collapsed.
Tashigi staggered, gritted her teeth—
—and then fell.
Silence returned to G-5.
Only the sound of black flas crackling remained.
Monts later, a pirate ship approached quietly from the harbor.
The Decalvan Brothers jumped ashore and hurried toward Marco.
"Captain Marco."
Marco gave a simple order.
"Take them. All of them."
"Yes!"
The pirates moved efficiently. Marines were bound swiftly and carried aboard the ship. Over a hundred soldiers—including Vice Admiral Smoker—were secured as prisoners.
Just then, another squad of Marines rushed into the plaza.
They froze at the sight.
Smoker… captured.
Rage and helplessness twisted their faces.
But none dared charge forward.
Before them stood a Yonko.
The leading Rear Admiral clenched his fists and shouted:
"Damn you, Marco! What are you planning to do with Vice Admiral Smoker?!"
Marco's expression remained calm, almost indifferent.
"Go back," he said coldly, "and tell Sakazuki this—"
"If he wants Smoker and these Marines alive…"
"He will release Whitey Bay."
His eyes sharpened.
"The exchange is simple. Whitey Bay walks free. Your people return alive."
The Rear Admiral trembled with anger—but he understood the reality.
The power gap was absolute.
They could do nothing but watch as Marco and his crew withdrew from G-5 without resistance.
The news reached Marineford swiftly.
Fleet Admiral Sakazuki's office trembled under the pressure of his fury.
A war with the Three Emperors Alliance was already imminent.
And now—
Marine Base G-5 had been assaulted.
A Vice Admiral captured.
Over a hundred Marines taken hostage.
Sakazuki's fist tightened, magma dripping from his knuckles onto the floor.
"That damn pirate…"
Kizaru remained silent, leaning lazily against the wall. Behind his tinted glasses, however, there was a trace of sympathy.
Sakazuki had only recently assud the position of Fleet Admiral.
And the world had chosen that mont to ignite.
Fujitora spoke calmly, though his tone was grave.
"Fleet Admiral Sakazuki… how shall we proceed?"
Sakazuki exhaled sharply.
"Hmph. A minor disruption."
His voice was cold steel.
"The overall war plan remains unchanged."
Then he turned his gaze toward Kizaru.
"Borsalino. You will handle the hostage exchange."
Kizaru raised his hands lightly, voice lazy as ever.
"Ahhh… how troubleso."
"But don't worry~ I'll take care of it."
The light flickered in his lenses.
The next move had begun.
Five days passed in tense anticipation.
Today was the agreed day.
The Marines and the Phoenix Pirates would exchange hostages.
Five days earlier, Marco had stord Marine Base G-5, abducted Vice Admiral Smoker along with over a hundred Marine soldiers, and issued a single demand:
Whitey Bay in exchange for their lives.
Sakazuki had accepted.
Now, the price of that decision was about to be paid.
The transponder snail on Marco's desk suddenly shrieked.
He picked it up at once.
"Captain Marco!" ca the urgent voice from the front line. "Ten Marine warships have been sighted. They're approaching at high speed. The formation matches a Buster Call. Kizaru is personally leading them. Estimated arrival at Popo Island—soon."
Marco's eyes sharpened.
"I understand. Hold your fire unless I give the order."
"Yes, Captain!"
The call ended.
Silence fell across the room.
More than a dozen Phoenix Pirates captains sat around the table, their expressions grave.
Vista broke the quiet first.
"Kizaru himself… and ten warships?" His fingers tapped thoughtfully against the table. "Are they really here for an exchange? Or are they preparing to wipe us out?"
Yamato's eyes glead with a mix of nervousness and excitent.
"So we're really facing an Admiral? I've heard Admirals are the Marine's ultimate combat power—strong enough to rival the Yonkos!"
Ace grinned confidently.
"An Admiral is strong, sure. But if it's just one, we can handle it."
Vista chuckled softly.
"I'd wager they'll try sothing after the exchange is complete."
Jozu cracked his knuckles.
"Ten warships look intimidating. But we're the Phoenix Pirates."
"Exactly!" several captains echoed.
"We've got Captain Marco!"
All eyes turned to him.
Marco's expression was calm—though a faint seriousness lingered in his gaze.
"If the Marines want a fight…" he said slowly, "then we'll give them one worth rembering."
He knew Kizaru's speed would be troubleso.
But Marco wasn't the sa man he had been at Marineford.
He still had 8,400 unused attribute points.
At any mont, he could pour them into Speed and close that gap instantly.
Compared to half a year ago, they were stronger.
Back then, they had fought through Marineford itself—and escaped with Ace alive.
Now?
Ten warships and a single Admiral were hardly enough to shake their resolve.
Soon, the Phoenix Pirates arrived at Popo Island.
It was the outermost island within their territory—the designated site for the exchange.
In the distance, the Marine fleet lood like a steel wall.
Ten warships floated in disciplined formation, their cannons aligned, their presence oppressive.
The Phoenix Pirates answered in kind.
More than a dozen pirate ships cut through the waves, forming a crescent formation as they approached.
The sea between them felt suffocating.
As the distance narrowed, sothing unexpected caught their attention.
Ahead of the Marine fleet—
A single luxury yacht floated lazily upon the water.
Kizaru sat comfortably upon it, a porcelain teacup in hand, sipping as though he were on holiday rather than on the brink of war.
Ace scowled.
"This guy… he's way too relaxed. Does he think we're a joke?"
The calmness was almost insulting.
Then—
A jet ski cut across the sea at high speed, heading straight for the Moby Dick.
The rider raised a gaphone.
"Phoenix Marco! Admiral Kizaru invites you aboard the yacht for a discussion!"
Without waiting for a response, the jet ski pivoted sharply and sped back toward the Marine formation.
The invitation hung in the air.
Across the water, Kizaru slowly lowered his teacup.
And smiled.
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