AN : There is a limited time discount running on my Patreon page. Check it out and enjoy the story further. Kaido has been clashing with Marco!!
CODE - FA23B!!
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"Daifuku…"
The moment Katakuri saw his brother's fate—one lying motionless, the other gravely wounded—he finally lost his composure. The calm, iron discipline he had cultivated for decades cracked in an instant. At that moment, there was only one thought in his mind: protect his siblings.
"Bastard—get out of my way, Fire Fist!"
Rage exploded from Katakuri's eyes. Armament Haki flooded both of his fists as he lunged forward, throwing a ferocious punch meant to crush Ace outright.
Ace didn't retreat.
He took the blow head-on, crossing his fingers with unwavering resolve.
"I told you already," he shouted, flames surging violently, "you're not getting past me—Cross Fire!"
A blazing, cross-shaped sigil slammed into Katakuri's chest and detonated instantly. A massive cross of fire—nearly a hundred meters across—erupted outward, swallowing the battlefield in roaring heat. Katakuri, caught at the epicenter, was blasted away like a cannonball.
"A direct hit?" Ace muttered, surprised.
Until now, landing a clean blow on Katakuri had been nearly impossible. Even with flames that countered mochi, Katakuri's future-sight Observation Haki had allowed him to evade almost everything.
Then Ace remembered the look on Katakuri's face—raw, unrestrained fury.
A grin tugged at his lips.
"So that's it… anger's throwing off your future sight, huh?"
Katakuri crashed to the ground and spat out a mouthful of blood. A scorched, cross-shaped burn marked his chest, and the violent flames had torn away his scarf, exposing his mouth.
Ace's eyes widened.
"…Your mouth."
It looked grotesque—jagged, stretched, as if it had been ripped open and crudely stitched back together.
Katakuri froze.
His face darkened instantly. He snatched up the scarf and wrapped it around his mouth again, his glare toward Ace filled with chilling hostility.
"You saw it," he said coldly. "My face."
Ace studied him, understanding dawning in his eyes—followed by something sharper.
"So that's it," he said quietly. "You care about your image that much. That's why you hide it."
Katakuri's killing intent surged like a tidal wave.
"Anyone who sees my true face…" he said, voice trembling with fury, "…must die."
Ace didn't flinch. Instead, his smile widened.
Good.
Katakuri abandoned finesse entirely. His punches became heavier, faster, more brutal—each blow driven by pure wrath. Fists hardened with Haki slammed into Ace's body again and again.
Ace answered in kind.
Flames and Armament Haki wrapped around his fists as he charged forward, welcoming the clash. No tricks. No dodging. Just raw power.
This was exactly what he wanted.
Before, Katakuri's future sight had turned the fight into a nightmare. Now, it was a straight-up brawl—a contest of endurance and will.
"AAAHHHHHHHH!"
"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
Their roars echoed across the battlefield as fists smashed into flesh, faces, and ribs. Neither man backed down. The ground beneath their feet fractured under the force of their blows, shockwaves tearing through the plaza. Rubble shattered, dust and fire spiraled into the air, and the clash of two titans raged on—until one of them would finally fall.
With no more obstacles in his way, Marco swiftly closed the distance and appeared before Cracker in a flash of blue flames.
Seeing him arrive, Namur immediately withdrew a few steps, positioning himself behind Marco.
"Marco," he said respectfully.
Marco gave a brief nod. "Namur, deal with the biscuit soldiers he creates. Give me one minute—this will be over."
"Understood." Namur didn't question it for a second. Cracker might be strong, but there was no universe in which he could stand against Marco.
Cracker, however, nearly exploded with rage at those words.
"One minute?" His eyes burned with fury. "What do you mean, one minute? Are you saying you can defeat me in sixty seconds?!"
He instinctively moved to activate his Devil Fruit, but the moment he noticed Namur standing nearby, he hesitated. His biscuit soldiers were fatally vulnerable to water—and with a Fishman present, summoning them would be pointless.
"Tch…" Cracker spat. He tightened his grip on his sword and took up a guarded stance. "Fine. Come then. Let me see whether that ridiculous 1.8 billion bounty of yours is actually deserved."
No matter how proud he was, Cracker knew the truth. There was a gulf between them—nearly a billion berries' worth. His only chance was to endure.
Marco didn't answer.
Blue flames flared violently around his body as he surged forward.
He's fast…!
Cracker's nerves screamed in warning. He had seen it with his own eyes—Daifuku, defeated in a single blow. If that punch had landed on him, he wouldn't even be standing.
He slashed downward.
Marco didn't dodge.
His palm, hardened with Armament Haki, snapped shut around Cracker's blade like an iron vise.
"Don't even think about running," Marco said coldly.
His fist drove forward.
Cracker barely managed to raise his free arm to block. The impact sent a violent shock through his body, but he held on, gritting his teeth as he seized Marco's wrist.
"Don't underestimate me," he snarled. "Biscuit Creation—"
Bang! Bang!
Two biscuit arms erupted from his waist, each gripping a sword, slashing toward Marco from both sides.
Marco's eyes narrowed.
His leg snapped forward in a brutal kick aimed straight at Cracker's abdomen.
The biscuit arms rushed to intercept—but they were biscuits.
Marco's kick shattered them effortlessly. The force carried through, smashing into Cracker's stomach and blasting him backward. He was forced to release Marco and dropped to one knee, clutching his gut.
"Gah—! It hurts… it hurts so much!"
Marco paused, genuinely surprised.
So it's true…
In the stories, Cracker had always talked about his fear of pain—even needles terrified him. But seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.
Cracker curled forward, trembling like a wounded shrimp, completely exposing himself.
A fatal weakness—laid bare in the middle of the battlefield.
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