Even in his exhausted state, the sudden injection of 2,000 stamina hit Marco like a miracle tonic. Strength flooded back into his limbs, his breathing steadied, and the crushing fatigue weighing on his body eased—as if he'd downed a legendary stamina potion.
Big Mom noticed it instantly.
Under normal circumstances, she might not have sensed the change. But after battling Marco for eight grueling days—when both of them were scraping the bottom of their reserves—any fluctuation stood out.
Marco straightened, confidence returning to his eyes.
"Enough with the useless chatter," he said coolly. "Come on. You're not the only one with trump cards."
Seeing his sudden recovery, Big Mom's suspicion hardened into certainty. Her gaze turned savage as she snarled, "You won't cry until you see the coffin. Very well—I will grant your wish."
They clashed again.
And almost immediately, Big Mom understood—Marco wasn't bluffing. Somehow, his combat strength had genuinely rebounded.
Her expression darkened. "How did you do that?"
Marco merely smiled faintly.
"I already told you—you're not the only one hiding cards."
Big Mom's face twisted with frustration. Never had she imagined that this man would be so maddeningly difficult to put down.
The eighth day's battle dragged deep into the night, still without a victor. At last, both sides withdrew to rest, agreeing—yet again—to continue the next day.
On the ninth day, both had recovered slightly. After burning their limits and even their lives the day before, they'd clawed back just enough strength to stand. But nine days of accumulated exhaustion couldn't be ignored. The battle became fragmented—short clashes followed by pauses. They broke five times in total before finally stopping around nine in the evening, once more agreeing to resume tomorrow.
By the tenth day, exhaustion ruled everything.
Ten straight days of relentless combat had hollowed them out completely. Even standing upright required immense effort. Their legs trembled, their breathing was ragged, and every movement felt like wading through mud.
Neither Marco nor Big Mom could even activate their Devil Fruit abilities anymore.
They had reached the absolute limit.
Big Mom stared at Marco now with genuine wariness in her eyes. Yes—she still had one last card: forcibly merging Zeus, Prometheus, and Napoleon, burning her lifespan again to restore stamina.
But even that would only buy her a little time.
And worse—she had no idea whether Marco still had more hidden reserves.
For what was supposed to be a test… a contest of pride… it was no longer worth it.
She had already wasted three months of her lifespan on this meaningless struggle. To burn even more now would be foolish.
Around them, both the Phoenix Pirates and the Big Mom Pirates stood on edge. Their captains were exhausted beyond reason—a single misstep could decide everything. No one dared breathe too loudly.
As dusk crept across the sky, Big Mom—who had once brimmed with absolute confidence on the first day—now had none left. Gasping heavily, she finally shouted toward Marco, who was equally winded nearby:
"Marco… what do you want? State your conditions!"
Marco bent forward slightly, breathing hard, forcing his lungs to settle. Then he straightened and answered calmly:
"It's simple."
He met her gaze.
"All you have to do… is say two words."
"I surrender."
At this point, Marco wanted only one thing—for Big Mom to say the words: I surrender.
The moment she did, the system would acknowledge his victory over a Yonko and reward him with 10,000 attribute points. That alone was the reason he had endured ten days of hell without backing down.
"What a joke!" Big Mom exploded in fury when she heard his demand.
In her eyes, this battle was nothing more than a draw. They had fought for ten days straight, neither able to truly crush the other. If she uttered those three words, she would lose all face—she might as well be buried alive in the Grand Line.
Marco, worn to the bone and desperate for a conclusion, snapped back coldly,
"This is the necessary condition—and the only condition. As long as you admit defeat, I'll let go of the matter of you burning our flag. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to drag the Phoenix Pirates and the Big Mom Pirates into an all-out war."
Big Mom's breath hitched as rage flared in her eyes.
"Are you threatening me?"
Marco drew a deep breath, his voice steady but resolute.
"So what if I am? I'm holding your people hostage. If you refuse, then even if it means mutual destruction, I won't back down."
This was Marco's last card.
In truth, he was terrified that Big Mom would push herself further—burning more of her lifespan and forcing the battle to the bitter end. Marco knew his limits all too well. He had no more trump cards. If Big Mom truly chose to sacrifice everything, he might not be able to endure another day.
What Marco didn't know was that Big Mom was thinking the exact same thing.
She, too, had reached her limit. The power of the Soul–Soul Fruit was completely sealed off to her now. Her body screamed in protest, and only sheer willpower kept her standing. If not for that iron resolve, she would have collapsed on the spot.
Big Mom glared at Marco, her gaze sharp and heavy.
She finally understood—she hadn't just underestimated him. The entire world had underestimated Marco. No one had imagined that he possessed the strength to push a Yonko this far.
After a long, agonizing silence, Big Mom finally exhaled and spoke through clenched teeth:
"Fine… I accept your terms."
Then her eyes narrowed.
"But I have two conditions of my own."
"Mama…"
The members of the Big Mom Pirates stared in disbelief. None of them had expected their seemingly invincible Mama to actually compromise with Marco.
Yet deep down, they all understood—if the fight continued, it wouldn't end in victory. It would end in mutual destruction.
Hearing Big Mom relent, Marco felt a weight lift from his chest. His eyes sharpened as he asked,
"Speak. What are your conditions?"
"First," Big Mom said without hesitation, "release Katakuri and Snack."
Marco didn't even pause.
"Fine."
That had been his intention from the start. Katakuri and Snack were bargaining chips, not targets for execution. Killing them would have pushed the Phoenix Pirates into a true war of extermination with the Big Mom Pirates—something Marco had no desire to provoke.
Big Mom nodded faintly, unsurprised, and continued,
"Second, I want Gromanz Island, Bashalts Island, and the Beitz Islands. Those three territories."
Before Marco could respond, a pirate from the Phoenix Pirates burst out angrily, "What kind of joke is this?! That's—"
"Enough. Silence."
Fossa cut him off sharply, his voice cold. "Whatever decision the captain makes, we follow it. This is not your place to speak."
The reprimanded pirate immediately bowed his head, not daring to argue further.
Marco's expression darkened. His voice dropped as he said, "And how exactly do you expect me to agree to that?"
The entire conflict had erupted because of territories. If he gave these three up now, what would all this blood and exhaustion mean?
Big Mom sneered faintly, her tone icy.
"I'll buy them."
Her gaze was sharp despite her fatigue.
"Those islands don't mean much to the Phoenix Pirates anyway. Keeping them won't change your fate. I'll pay. one billion berries for all three. If you refuse, then we'll simply fight until we both die."
This was her bottom line.
She had already decided to stop fighting, but she couldn't walk away empty-handed. If she gained nothing, she would lose both face and authority on the seas. Better to trade pride for substance—humiliating, perhaps, but survivable.
Marco understood her reasoning instantly.
Those three islands were close to Big Mom's territory, rich in resources, and strategically valuable to her. More importantly, she wasn't demanding them outright—she was offering payment. That alone preserved a fragile balance of dignity on both sides.
Still, Marco's head was spinning. Ten days of nonstop combat had left his thoughts sluggish and his body screaming. He forced himself to focus and said firmly, "Three billion berries. Then they're yours."
"One and a half billion," Big Mom shot back, her voice rough and strained. She looked as though she might collapse at any moment. "Take it or leave it."
She wanted this nightmare to end—now.
Marco stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled.
"Alright."
He straightened slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked Big Mom straight in the eye.
"Then answer me one thing, Big Mom."
His voice was calm. "Who won this battle?"
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