The colossal Moby Dick, like a giant whale breaking through the waves, its sails vigorously billowing, led forty-five mighty pirate ships toward Marineford.
On the deck, a banquet was in full swing, as usual.
The Whitebeard Pirates' commanders were gathered, singing and dancing, their faces devoid of any hint of gloom.
Not even one was missing, even Squard, who had a blood feud with Roger, was on board.
In the past, the Moby Dick was the most solid backing for all Whitebeard's sons.
But from the moment it sailed towards Marineford, it was destined to be a journey of nine deaths and one life.
A war from which there was no return, a doomed struggle that was difficult to win.
Including Whitebeard, everyone on the Moby Dick knew that this journey would be the end of their Pops' glorious life.
If they could, they wouldn't want Pops to embark on this journey.
Even if a glorious death was the ultimate destination for a man of the sea, as Pops' sons, they would never wish for Whitebeard's demise.
However, this war was an unavoidable one.
Marco sat at the helm, not participating in the banquet.
He merely watched from afar as Whitebeard laughed and drank with his sons, watching the man he had followed his entire life.
The Moby Dick, advancing through the waves, was like a ferry sailing into the abyss of the underworld for Whitebeard; with every step forward, he drew closer to death.
A battlefield full of glory and hardship, its end led to heaven, warriors to the left, heaven to the right.
The strongest man in the world also possessed the strongest confidence in the world.
But precisely because of this, the Marines would give the strongest man in the world the most tragic respect.
Marco lowered his eyes.
He didn't like war, and it could even be said that among them, as Pops' sons on this ship, as members of one of the world's strongest pirate crews, no one liked war.
Because only those who had personally experienced war would understand how terrible it felt to constantly lose and constantly take.
For them, war would only make them lose their precious family and make those who survived bear more pain.
But if the war was for family, there was nothing to hesitate about.
Even if Marco were in Pops' position, he would not hesitate to make the same choice.
People who watched their family die without moving a muscle did not deserve to be part of this family! However, that being said, this grand war could not, and must not, be a foolish suicide mission.
Even if hope was slim, Marco was willing to believe in the most beautiful outcome at the end of their hardships.
With blue skies, white clouds, and the vast sea, Marco took a deep breath, spread his arms wide, and shouted,
"Ace... we're coming!"
...
The time for the Summit War was drawing ever closer.
The entire Grand Line was growing increasingly tense in this atmosphere of escalating tension and impending storm.
And unseen dark hands, taking advantage of the Five Elders' distraction with the Summit War, were quietly changing the world's trajectory.
The Golden Emperor's Berry devaluation plan had reached a fever pitch.
170 World Government member nations, with the exception of a very few like Germa, which were completely controlled by their royal families, were all facing a massive financial storm.
The people were in dire straits.
Riots, resistance, killings-starving people desperately launched weak but vast rebellions against their rulers, like sparks falling into dry grass, igniting a raging inferno.
This time, those mobilized to resist the nobles and the World Government were no longer just the common people.
Take Goa Kingdom, for example.
The bottom-level commoners who scraped by at the Gray Terminal by picking up trash had nothing worse to lose.
In Goa Kingdom, those who suffered the most from the Golden Emperor's financial storm were the middle class and minor nobles living in the towns.
Only those with assets and money would suffer heavy losses from the massive devaluation of Berry.
These petty bourgeois, who once distanced themselves from the truly poor, now experienced the same feelings as the impoverished people they despised.
Thus, class resistance quickly spread from the lowest proletariat to the entire middle and lower strata of society.
They demanded jobs, relief, and that commodity prices be restored to normal.
And in the face of such widespread riots, most nobles and royals reacted with surprising consistency: dispatch troops to suppress them, and if they couldn't suppress them, call in the Marines! This was the customary method these feudal monarchs used to deal with internal national problems.
Besides, with their generally inept minds, they couldn't find any way to counter the Golden Emperor's offensive.
However, while the past riots of commoners alone could hardly shake the rule of the nobility, once the middle and lower strata of society were involved, the riots were no longer minor skirmishes.
This was because soldiers were also part of the middle and lower strata; they also needed to eat.
Earning stagnant wages while facing prices that had soared tenfold or more, soldiers, no matter how obedient to the nobility, had to confront the reality of starving if they couldn't afford food.
In the past, when the situation developed to this point, the nobles and royals of various countries would contact the Marines to directly intervene.
But now, the Marines were fully preparing for the Summit War and had little free time to help these World Government member nations with 'trifling matters.'
The riots ignited like a raging inferno, and they could not be effectively contained.
Moreover, the Revolutionary Army extensively intervened, fanning the flames and planting a new ideology in the hearts of common people.
Unstable social environments are the best way to spread revolution.
In just two months, several World Government member nations across the Grand Line announced their withdrawal from the World Government, and many countries even directly changed their rulers.
For example, what was happening at this very moment in the Goa Kingdom was a microcosm of the entire boiling Grand Line.
"Quickly, drive those commoners out, quickly!!!"
Inside the royal palace, the newly appointed King Stelly Othello pointed at the densely packed commoners besieging the palace gates, screaming shrilly, "Stelly, what should we do, Stelly? We can't let those commoners in, they'll defile the palace."
Princess of Goa, or rather, the current Queen Sally Nandakanett, clutched her husband's arm tightly, asking in a daze.
The royal guards, following the king's orders, went to the palace walls, throwing down rocks and attacking the common people with weapons, yelling at them to get out of this noble place.
However, unlike their usual bullying of the commoners from the Gray Terminal, this time, these people who had been stripped of everything burst forth with immense resilience.
The guards' attempts to drive them away did not extinguish their anger; in fact, quite the opposite, it made them even angrier.
"Stelly doesn't deserve to be king, he's just a despicable usurper!!!!"
"Open the palace and take back everything that false king stole!"
"Hang all the nobles from the lampposts!!!!"
Among the crowd, sharp shouts were intertwined with immense anger, pushing the crowd to storm the palace gates.
Some of these rioters even pulled out heavy-caliber rifles from Anaheim, firing at the guards on the city wall.
Those antiquated iron cans fell like straw, one after another.
The palace gate was breached, and the common people who flooded in rampaged wildly within the palace.
The collapse of the palace was like tearing a chain from the hearts of the people of the Goa Kingdom.
However, what was unleashed was not only slaves but also a group of mad beasts.
Having been dogs for too long, once unleashed, these seemingly loyal people were the most vicious when they retaliated.
They stole everything they could, took everything they could, and then-killed everyone in fine clothes.
They dragged the great nobles who usually oppressed them out of their homes, stabbed them and their children to death amidst their screams, and hung them on lampposts, celebrating with torches.
"Stelly's here!!!!"
King Stelly, attempting to escape in disguise, was caught.
He screamed as his clothes were ripped off, his hands were tied with ropes, and a horse dragged him along the ground.
Cheers, jeers, screams-the Goa Kingdom was engulfed only in near-mad riots!
Among the crowd, Belo Betty, the Commander of the Revolutionary Army's East Army, stared blankly at the madness unfolding.
This mature woman with short purple hair, wearing sunglasses, and carrying a large flag, was a user of the Encourage-Encourage Fruit.
As the name suggests, by waving her flag, she could ignite latent power and the spirit of resistance within people.
Betty had waved her flag to stir up popular resistance and encourage people many times before, giving them courage.
Coming to the Goa Kingdom this time, Betty had originally intended to continue her usual work, but who would have thought that the current situation made her completely unnecessary.
The madness unleashed from the hearts of these people was far more extreme than the 'excitement' influenced by the Encourage-Encourage Fruit's ability; such 'resistance' could even be said to be...
a bit too much.
"Is this what you call 'revolution'?"
A faint voice sounded in Betty's ear.
She turned her head in shock.
The speaker was an old man with closed eyes, an "X"-shaped scar on his left forehead, dressed in a pale purple yukata, with a dark purple obi, holding a cane sword.
As a commander of the Revolutionary Army, Betty naturally possessed considerable strength, but facing this suddenly appearing old man, she felt an immense sense of danger to her life!
"Is this chaotic sight the scene your Revolutionary Army desires?"
The old man softly pressed.
"...No, that is not the goal of the Revolutionary Army."
Betty quickly regained her composure, facing the unknown master, and said in a deep voice, "This has nothing to do with the Revolutionary Army. The current situation is merely the result of years of accumulated contradictions within this country suddenly erupting."
"Our Revolutionary Army's goal is to overthrow the rulers who oppress the common people, not to act recklessly! The Revolutionary Army's aim is to break everything down and rebuild it, not to allow them to destroy everything!"
"If that's the case, then this old man is relieved."
The blind old man's eyes remained fixed on Betty, putting immense pressure on her.
"This old man doesn't agree with your Revolutionary Army's ideals, but at present, to save a world that was once utterly chaotic, this old man seems to have no more convenient force to rely on."
The old man slowly drew his cane sword an inch.
In front of the vigilant Betty, he said indifferently, "Blindness is truly a blessing, for in this world, there are too many unspeakable dirtbags.
This old man wants to join your Revolutionary Army, and then, personally eliminate the mastermind behind all this."
"Remember this old man's name."
"Fujitora... Issho!"
Clink!
The sword was sheathed the moment it was drawn.
In the next instant, immense gravity spread outwards from its center, and within a radius of hundreds of meters, everyone was pinned to the ground, unable to move.
Betty watched all this in shock, and what was even more terrifying was that Betty was within this range but remained completely unaffected.
Such control over a Devil Fruit power was no less than an Admiral's!
"So, where's the first stop?" Issho retracted his cane sword and softly asked, "Marine Headquarters? Or... Mary Geoise?"
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