One Piece: My Evolving Aircraft

Next Bonus, 100!!

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At this proximity, Teach could truly see the man's features.

The jet-black hair. The handsome, unmarred face. The eyes that crinkled into a perpetual, enigmatic smile.

He looked far younger than Teach had anticipated. It was as if time itself had refused to leave its mark on him.

Jin stared directly into Teach's eyes.

Eyes are the windows to the soul. And looking into Teach's, Jin felt as if he could see straight into the dark, twisted depths of the man's being.

Nothing could be hidden from him.

Still smiling, Jin leaned in and silently mouthed a single name.

Three syllables.

Teach's eyes went wide with absolute terror. A cold sweat drenched his back instantly.

"This is Marine Headquarters!" a booming, authoritative voice rang out from the doorway.

Jin stood up, his smile unwavering. "Just having a little joke with the new guy. Don't be so serious, Fleet Admiral Sengoku."

Three figures stood at the entrance.

Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Vice Admiral Garp, and Vice Admiral Tsuru.

The grim, solemn expressions etched onto the faces of the three Marine legends made it painfully clear: this was not the time for jokes.

The greatest war of their era was imminent, and their opponent was the legendary Whitebeard Pirates. Sengoku and Tsuru were in no mood for games.

As for Garp...

It was impossible to read him.

Was he dreading the carnage of the approaching war?

Was he agonizing over Ace's capture and imminent execution?

Or was he being torn apart by the impossible conflict between his deep familial love and his unwavering duty to the Marines?

Perhaps it was all of the above.

In his youth, Garp had been a man of pure, unadulterated passion—a warrior driven by the thrill of battle and the spirit of adventure. In that regard, he was remarkably similar to Luffy.

He had led his Marine fleets across the globe, doggedly hunting down legends like Roger and Rocks, earning the profound respect of the world's strongest fighters.

But after the God Valley Incident, the mantle of "Hero" had ironically become his gilded cage.

As the years passed, the fiery blood in Garp's veins had slowly cooled. Following Roger's execution, he had stubbornly refused every promotion to Admiral, actively choosing a path of calculated apathy and deliberate stagnation.

He wasn't so different from the current Admiral Borsalino.

Garp was the tragic epitome of a man trapped by his own legend. He despised the concept of "heroes," yet fate had forced him to become the unwavering symbol of the Marines' absolute justice.

Having sufficiently rattled Teach, Jin casually strolled back to his seat.

Sengoku, Garp, and Tsuru took their places at the head of the table.

The briefing was straightforward: a tactical overview of the mobilization and the specific deployment orders for the Warlords during the execution.

Jin glanced out the window. From this vantage point, he had a clear view of the sprawling Marineford plaza. The military machine was in full swing, preparations advancing at a fever pitch.

Elite Marine units from bases across the world were pouring in, forming massive, disciplined ranks for inspection.

This execution wasn't merely a trap for Whitebeard; it was a grand, theatrical demonstration. The World Government and the Marines were flexing their military might for the entire world to see.

In the original timeline, Sengoku hadn't been forced into retirement because he failed to wipe out the Whitebeard Pirates.

He was ousted because he completely botched the World Government's meticulously planned live broadcast.

He had won the tactical battle, but suffered a catastrophic strategic defeat.

Live broadcasts are inherently volatile. The narrative is almost impossible to control in real-time, stripping the World Government of their usual luxury to manipulate the facts and sanitize the truth after the dust settles.

So why risk a broadcast at all?

Arrogance. Absolute confidence in their own superiority.

But the true wildcard... had been Buggy.

If it hadn't been for that clown, the broadcast would have been cut the moment things went south.

That little variable was something neither Sengoku nor the World Government had ever anticipated.

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The New World.

Whitebeard's Homeland: Sphinx Island!

It was a small, impoverished island. Its total inability to pay the exorbitant "Heavenly Tribute" demanded by the World Government meant it was effectively an outlaw state, entirely devoid of any official governance.

But ever since Whitebeard had risen to prominence, he had quietly funneled a massive portion of his personal wealth back home, transforming the impoverished rock into a hidden sanctuary of peace.

"Marco? What's the meaning of this?"

On the docks, Marco found himself surrounded by a flock of Whitebeard's personal nurses—all clad in their signature short skirts and leopard-print stockings.

Just moments ago, the entire medical team dedicated to Whitebeard's care had been summarily banned from boarding the ship.

"If we aren't there, who's going to look after Pops? Who's going to manage his IVs?"

"Hey, hey, pipe down. These are Pops' orders!"

The hulking form of Jozu appeared at the rail, casually tossing several massive, overflowing treasure chests down onto the docks.

"You've all earned this! The journey ahead is going to be a bloodbath. This... this is a war for men!"

Whitebeard maintained a strict, unyielding rule: no women were allowed to serve as combatants on his ship.

In his eyes, relying on women to fight his battles was a supreme insult to his manhood.

Therefore, before setting a course for Marineford, Whitebeard had returned to Sphinx Island. He had spent several quiet days here, paying his final respects at Thatch's grave.

And despite their tearful protests, he had forcefully ordered every female member of his medical staff off the ship.

Faced with the unwavering resolve of the commanders, the desperate nurses sought out the Chief Medical Officer.

"Dr. Deuce! You have to talk to him! You have to convince Pops!"

Deuce, surrounded by the distraught women, nervously wiped the sweat from his brow.

"It's no use. I've already tried."

"Don't worry," he added, trying to sound reassuring. "The combat medics are still on board. We'll make sure he's taken care of!"

Having finally managed to calm them down, Deuce let out a long sigh. He turned his gaze toward the distant hill, where Whitebeard stood silently before Thatch's gravestone.

'He's already made his peace with dying, hasn't he?' Deuce thought somberly.

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Wano Country.

Kaido was in the middle of a massive banquet when the intelligence arrived: the Whitebeard Pirates were mobilizing.

"So, the old fool is finally making his move?"

"The World Government is dead serious this time," Queen noted. "Even for Whitebeard, this is a suicide mission. Ten to one odds against survival."

"Wororororo! This is the perfect opportunity! With Whitebeard out of the picture, the entire power dynamic of the New World is going to be ripped apart!" Kaido roared with laughter.

That very day, the Beasts Pirates began to assemble their forces.

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Somewhere in the New World.

"Whitebeard is committing his main forces to Marineford. You can bet the other two are already plotting their next moves," Benn Beckman said, exhaling a plume of smoke, his eyes sharp and calculating.

"The Yonko maintain a fragile balance. Kaido's ambitions are no secret."

"He's been operating in the shadows for years, actively trying to subvert Whitebeard's allied crews and annex his territories."

The Yonko territories bordered one another. While an unspoken truce prevented all-out war, border skirmishes were a constant reality.

If Whitebeard committed his entire armada to a single, distant battle, his home territories would be left critically undefended. The vultures would inevitably circle.

"The World Government and the Marines have laid out a massive, terrifying trap..." Shanks murmured, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the azure sea.

"Whitebeard's stubbornness is frustrating, yes..."

"But we cannot allow Kaido to sweep in and claim Whitebeard's territories. The resulting power vacuum would trigger a war that would engulf the entire New World. We have to intercept him!"

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Whole Cake Island!

"Mamamamama! For the sake of our old ties, let's sit this one out. We won't kick a man when he's down."

Charlotte Linlin chuckled, indulging in a massive slice of cake.

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Marineford.

"The Whitebeard Pirates have vanished?"

"Understood."

"Your orders are to maintain strict surveillance on the movements of the remaining three Yonko..."

Sengoku hung up the Den Den Mushi, cutting the connection with Vice Admiral Gion.

There was only one day left until Ace's public execution.

The entire world was tracking the Whitebeard Pirates' movements. Hearing that a fleet of that magnitude had simply "vanished" sent a sharp spike of anxiety straight through Sengoku's chest.

He rubbed his throbbing temples and let out a weary sigh. "So... he's really coming."

His history with Whitebeard was long and bloody. Much like Garp and Roger, they were legendary rivals defined by decades of conflict.

And now, Sengoku had woven an inescapable net, meticulously preparing the grand stage for his old rival's funeral. He couldn't help but feel a fleeting sense of melancholy.

However, Sengoku was a man who could best be described as "a scholar on the outside, a ruthless pragmatist on the inside."

He was driven by cold, hard logic.

Beneath his deceptively gentle exterior lay a will of iron.

He was the absolute embodiment of "Reigning Justice."

He never allowed personal sentiment to cloud his tactical judgment.

He was the rare leader capable of perfectly balancing the dovish and hawkish factions within the Marines, commanding the absolute respect of both.

Sengoku stood up and walked to the balcony. Below him, Marineford was ablaze with floodlights.

A gentle sea breeze rolled in from the harbor.

Tonight, for the tens of thousands of Marines preparing to march into the crucible of war... sleep would be an impossible luxury.

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The accommodations provided for the Warlords were strategically scattered across the fortress.

"Zehahaha..."

Teach watched the frenzied deployment of Marine troops from his window, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

His true goal had never been the mere title of a Warlord.

"Tomorrow, when Ace is dragged onto the execution platform, the eyes of the entire world will be glued to this island. The Marines and the World Government will commit every single soldier they have to this battle."

"Which means the defenses at Impel Down... will be virtually non-existent."

But then, the memory of Jin uttering that single, terrifying word—"Rocks"—flashed through his mind. A cold knot of anxiety and urgency tightened in Blackbeard's gut.

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Sabaody Archipelago.

Teams of technicians were working feverishly through the night, desperately laying miles of cables and installing massive visual den den mushi screens, ensuring everything was perfect for tomorrow's unprecedented, global live broadcast of the execution.

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