Chapter Four

—1—

The only sound was waves.

His mouth was bone-dry. It felt like there were cracks on the inside of his throat. He coughed and spat something that tasted like all of his fluids mixed together—blood, saliva, and stomach acid—and bounded to his feet.

“Agh! Koff!”

He hacked, again and again.

Gradually, clarity returned to his mind. His body felt sluggish, reminding him of being bedridden with fever as a child. Everything hurt: muscles, joints, limbs…

“Here.”

“Huh?!”

He smelled fresh water. It brought his attention to his unbearable thirst. The salt breeze had ruined the lining of his nostrils. He snatched the cup before his face and downed the water in one go.

Then he glanced again at the person who had handed him the cup. Apparently he’d been sleeping on the deck for quite a while.

The man was sitting on the gunwale of the ship, peering down at Ace as though looking at a stray kitten. Ace sat on the deck, leaning back against the side wall.

Where was he? It wasn’t the Piece of Spadille. This ship was much, much bigger.

“Who are you?” Ace hurled the cup aside.

“Don’t throw the dishes.”

“Shut up…ugh!”

Ace tried to get up, but his body wouldn’t obey. What happened? Why am I on this unfamiliar ship? He was confused.

The man sitting on the edge of the ship smiled at him. He was wearing white… A cook? No, not with that scar and the dangerous look in his eyes. You’d wonder what a cook like that was slicing up with his butcher knife.

“You still asleep?”

“Where am I?”

“You’re on our ship. The Moby Dick.”

That was the ship of Whitebeard. Edward Newgate.

In other words, Ace was… Yes, that’s right.

That’s what happened…

“I’m Thatch, leader of the fourth division. If you’re gonna be sailing with us, let’s try to get along.”

“Shut up!”

“Ha ha ha! I see you’re not a morning person. Say…would you like to know what happened after you passed out?”

After using his Flame Fence technique to erect a barricade that allowed his friends to escape, Ace faced off against Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate.

It was immediately following his five-day fight against Jimbei, First Son of the Sea. Ace’s body was ravaged, completely spent from his earlier fight. It was a wonder he could stand.

Perhaps that wall of fire was no obstacle to Whitebeard, however. In any case, he saw the way Ace used himself as a shield to protect his companions, and found it laudable. There’s no way to know Whitebeard’s mind, but the fact remained that he waited until the Spade Pirates had retreated.

And then—one swing of his naginata, Haki and all, brought Ace to his knees. It wasn’t even a fight. The Logia power of flame itself was scattered to the wind by Whitebeard’s blow.

“Agh!”

And yet Ace stood up again. The Flame Fence regained strength.

I’m not going to run.

He would make sure Deuce and the gang got away. He would use every last ounce of strength to protect his beloved Spade Pirates.

He had pride and dignity at stake, too. His enemy, Whitebeard, had clearly allowed his crew to get away. Ace couldn’t just use those lives as bargaining chips and attempt to flee with his fire. If he did, and actually got away alive, he would have a coward’s reputation around his neck. And thus his fame would never outshine that of Roger the Pirate King.

“Gura ra ra ra… You still have the strength to stand?” Whitebeard chuckled.

If Ace attempted to run now, the Whitebeard Pirates would give chase. His crew would be pursued. So Ace did not flee. He had to take the head of Edward Newgate, here and now.

“Agh…”

“It’d be a waste to kill you, boy.”

A waste? Ace couldn’t understand what he meant by that. But he knew what he felt at that moment.

Anger.

It was very clear that the man was looking down on him.

“Eh?!”

“If you still want to terrorize the seas, do it in my name!” said Whitebeard, holding a hand out to the defeated Ace.

“Become my son!”

The blood rushed to his head.

He hated everything about this. The last thing Ace wanted was for this man to treat him like a child.

“Eh?! No way!”

Ace challenged Whitebeard and was utterly flattened. It was a total loss.

He didn’t even remember how he lost. It was like an overwhelming strength had split his skull. Perhaps that’s what it felt like to have your old man crack you on the head.

At any rate, Ace finally understood the obvious.

He had lost.

He’d been taken prisoner, hauled aboard Whitebeard’s ship, and laid out on the deck. For at least a night, if not longer. That island was nowhere in sight now.

“Your men came back for you afterward,” said Thatch, the fourth division leader, “so we clobbered ’em.”

“Ah!”

Ace gasped. It couldn’t be. They’d escaped with their lives and gotten away from the dreaded Whitebeard—and they’d wasted that chance and come back?

“But don’t worry, they’re alive. And they’re all aboard this ship,” said Thatch soothingly, when he saw the look of fury on Ace’s features.

They’re alive? Is that…even possible?

The Spade Pirates were destroyed. They’d met the Whitebeard Pirates head-on and were crushed… That’s what happens. When pirates battle pirates with pistols and swords, there’s no rules or honor, just war. All the loser leaves behind is a dead body.

Ace felt further deflated with each moment that passed.

To Whitebeard, this didn’t even qualify as war. He didn’t engage in war with rookies. There was no comparison between their crews.

Ace looked down at his arms. His hands weren’t even bound by iron cuffs, much less the Sea Prism Stone that could contain Devil Fruit powers. If he wanted, he could certainly use his power to burn down the entire ship.

“You sure you want to let me walk around without chains on?”

“Huh?” said Thatch, in his lighthearted way. “He didn’t order us to lock you in a cell. Why, did you want to be?”

—2—

Night.

A sneaking shadow crept across the deck of the Moby Dick.

It slipped past watchful eyes, an easy feat for a man who’d engaged in thieving and burglary since he was a child. He plotted his course. He knew which cabin the ship’s captain used. The target was the man known as the king of the seas. He was no weakhearted coward, locking his door against intruders—but Ace was not stupid enough to announce his presence with a knock, either.

Or maybe he was just so desperate that being that foolish was never an option.

“Shnorrr…”

A tremendous snoring was audible through the wall. This was it.

Fwoom. He let his body turn to fire.

If there was a weakness to his powers now, it was that he couldn’t use them and hide in the dark. Neither could he stop himself from exuding heat. He would have one moment—a single chance to end it all.

Ace turned to flame and launched his blade at the strongest pirate in the world, who was sleeping in his bed.

Blink… Crash!

“Whoa!”

“What are you doing? Keep it down, people are trying to sleep!” Whitebeard said, and swatted away the ball of flame as though dealing with a fly in the room. And just as quickly, he was snoring again.

“Shnorrr…”

It was like a bad joke. While in his flaming form, Ace was knocked out by a slap and sent tumbling back out of the cabin and into the hallway.

In fact, his nose was bleeding now. So much for sneak attacks.

—3—

Portgaz D. Ace was still on the Moby Dick.

He was a loser, a prisoner. He wore no cuffs or shackles. But this was open sea; as a Devil Fruit user, Ace couldn’t float on his own. There could be no escape without at least stealing a rowboat.

And Ace had no intention of escaping.

At first he was just exhausted—he’d been fighting Jimbei for several days. In the weeks following, after he had recovered, Ace “paid his respects” to Whitebeard nearly every day.

Sometimes he tried attacking him in his sleep. Other times, he swung an axe from behind.

Whack! Splash…

Each and every time, Whitebeard swatted him away like a fly.

“Hey! He fell in the sea!”

“Somebody better go save him!”

Ace’s constant failed attempts to attack Whitebeard became a bit of a running joke among the pirate crew. At this point, every last person there knew his name.

He was trying to kill their captain. It would be perfectly acceptable for them to tie him up and toss him into the sea. But ultimately, they seemed to share an unshakable trust that no matter what, no one could do any harm to their captain.

“Ugh… Captain Ace!” shouted Wallace the fish-man, who jumped overboard and easily rescued Ace. The members of Whitebeard’s crew began to chuckle and murmur, both relieved and annoyed.

“I’m surprised he’s not getting bored of this,” muttered Thatch, emerging from a cabin.

Even before he fell into the water and began to drown, the impact of Whitebeard’s strike had knocked Ace unconscious.

“Every single day… Doesn’t he ever quit?” muttered Vista, the Fifth Division leader, known by the epithet of “Flower Sword.”

—4—

“Ah! Haaaa…”

Ace bolted upright from his sleep and began to cough.

He was on an examination bed in the doctor’s cabin.

“So you’re back.”

“Eh!”

Across from Ace, dressed in a white doctor’s coat, was none other than Masked Deuce.

“You never learn. How many dozens of times have you tried by now?”

“Listen, I—” Ace began to retort.

“Oh, Doctor!”

The nurses had arrived. These were the real angels of the battlefield. They wore knockout uniforms of miniskirts and high leopard-print boots. They even smelled nice.

The main fleet of the Whitebeard Pirates alone had several huge ships and well over a thousand members, making its crew the size of a modest town. They had multiple ship’s doctors with enough medical support to be considered a hospital.

“I told you not to call me that. I didn’t even graduate from medical school.”

“Oh, the other doctors probably aren’t real doctors, either,” said one of the nurses, draping herself over Deuce. The combination of masked man and leopard-booted woman was a very strange one.

Deuce was a failed medical student. There was no ship’s doctor in the Spade Pirates, but they didn’t really need one, because Deuce filled the role well enough.

Besides, what pirate crew demanded a diploma to accept a doctor on board? Just sew up the parts that get cut, amputate the parts that won’t survive, and isolate the people with contagious illness. With a crew as large as Whitebeard’s, a degradation in sanitary conditions could have frightening consequences. A closed-off, isolated space like a ship was fertile ground for disease to spread.

So the Whitebeard Pirates’ medical team was their lifeline. They were always on the lookout for promising recruits. And Deuce met their standards, apparently…

The nurses delivered a message from the ship’s head doctor, giggled when they saw Ace, and left the infirmary.

“Must be nice to have all that attention, Deuce,” scowled Ace as he sat up in bed.

In the intervening weeks, Deuce had become utterly ensconced in Whitebeard’s medical team. He was a doctor, a crucial part of their group. Unlike his famous, renowned father, Deuce was a medical school dropout who left home. Ace had never pried into his personal life since their meeting on that empty island, but now he realized that Deuce must have had quite a lot of potential.

Deuce stared back at Ace. “Think of me what you will. I do not mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Have you seen the others?”

“The ones who are on this ship, sure. You, Wallace…”

For the moment, the Spade Pirates members were dispersed throughout Whitebeard’s fleet. The very night that Ace fell in combat, Deuce led his crewmates in a charge to take back their captain. They were easily defeated and captured. That part was as Thatch had said.

But like Ace, they hadn’t been thrown into cells. They were given food. They were split apart across the ships of the fleet, rather than kept in one place where they could make trouble, but the main point was that they were all just fine.

“Yeah, I know, I’ve lost face,” Ace admitted. “Whitebeard beat me.”

The flag he carried aloft had been broken. And it wasn’t just a personal defeat; he had exposed his crew to danger and failed to protect them.

“That’s right.”

“But I’m not gonna be a loser my whole life! If I can take Whitebeard’s head…”

Deuce just sighed. He hesitated, unsure of what to say, and realized that this attitude was only going to hurt Ace. He had been Ace’s traveling partner longer than anyone, so it was up to him.

“The medical team here is incredible.”

“What, the nurse babes?”

“No, I’m being serious. The facilities here are equivalent to a hospital in a large town, perhaps even better. Why do you think that is?”

“Don’t know, don’t care…ow!”

Ace rubbed his neck. Despite the fact that he was made of flame, his tussles with Whitebeard were doing serious damage to his body.

In the New World, people with Devil Fruit powers were easy marks—especially Logia fruit, which were the most powerful, and most likely to make their users lazy and reliant on them. Pirates like Jimbei, the Seven Warlords, and the Four Emperors were made of sterner stuff.

That was what it took to be at the top of the world of pirates. The level that Ace would need to learn to exceed if he wanted to surpass his hated father…

“That entire medical structure is here to support Whitebeard,” Deuce said.

“Eh? Is Whitebeard in bad health?” Ace wondered. That couldn’t be right. How could a monster like him be suffering?

“Our health abandons us as we get older. People age, they grow weaker, and there’s no medicine in the world that can counteract that. Not that I know of, at least.”

Not unless there was some Devil Fruit out there that could provide eternal life.

“What’s your point?”

“I mean that Whitebeard’s past his prime. Not like when he used to tussle with Roger.”

And Ace was completely helpless against even this version of Whitebeard. They were on completely different levels. At best, all that Ace could do was match Jimbei the Warlord.

“You’re saying I’ll never win?”

“Not right now, at least,” Deuce stated. “Now, back to what I was talking about. Why does Whitebeard have such a massive medical team? Because Whitebeard’s life doesn’t just belong to Whitebeard.”

“Huh?”

“There are tens of thousands of members of the Whitebeard Pirate Crew. And there are many more times that number living on the islands that make up his territory. All of those lives are under the protection of Whitebeard’s flag. So what would the consequence be if something happened to him?”

Hundreds of thousands—millions—of lives were linked inextricably to his.

Ace had only brought together a single ship of people; he couldn’t imagine what it was like to have Whitebeard’s dominion. Whitebeard’s health had to be managed with the greatest possible care, all to prolong the years under his control and stability. All for the sake of those who flew his flag, secure under his rule.

“So…what? You want me to stop trying to kill Whitebeard?” Ace said, glaring at Deuce.

“That’s for you to decide. But…I think you ought to understand what kind of life it is you’re trying to take.”

“Have you met Whitebeard, Deuce?”

“I haven’t spoken with him. He didn’t ask me to do any of this.”

So he hadn’t tried to woo Deuce into joining his giant crew. And yet he still had the power to make Deuce argue this point.

“It’s like you’re a member of the Whitebeard Pirates already,” snapped Ace. He immediately looked regretful.

Deuce didn’t admonish him. “We challenged Whitebeard to a fight. You, our captain, lost that fight. So the fight is over. We tried to save you, but that was a failure too.”

“I guess I don’t have any right to argue, then.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Ace. We haven’t…I haven’t gone over to join Whitebeard.”

Ace waited in silence.

“It’s just…we easily could have all been tossed in the sea to drown. But not only did Whitebeard spare us that fate, he didn’t even lock us behind bars or put us in chains. Not even you, our captain.”

“Yeah, because they have so little fear of us.”

“Perhaps, perhaps. But those are the facts, regardless.”

Ace hung his head. “What are the others doing?”

“They’re all doing their own thing. Skull’s been living up to his strengths, gathering intel. Mihal's teaching those who need it how to read. They’ve put Kotatsu to great use in procuring ingredients for the meals. In fact, Kotatsu was the first one to start working. He took to Commander Thatch pretty quick once he got fed.”

“Huh…”

“Even pirates have rules. There’s a certain code of honor to the way we do things. I guess the cat knows the code better than we do.”

You work for what you eat. It was a lesson that Ace learned at a young age when he was sent to stay with Dadan the mountain bandit. The others had found ways to put their skills to use as well.

“I haven’t lost to Whitebeard,” Ace growled. If I lose—if I admit that I’ve lost…

“My only captain is you, Ace. No matter what life you choose to lead, I’ll be at your side. If you’re going to keep gunning for Whitebeard, I won’t stop you. I’m just saying…follow the code.”

“Deuce…”

Everyone had begun to live their lives within the Whitebeard Pirate Crew. It was a kind of payment in return for the mercy Whitebeard showed in sparing their lives and feeding them. The pirate’s code of honor demanded it.

“If you’re going after Whitebeard, do it openly and in the proper way. Don’t force me to betray you,” Deuce warned.

It seemed that their captain was the only member of the group who couldn’t comprehend where he stood.

—5—

“So Pops knocked ya into the water again today, huh?” sighed Thatch, who was head cook of the Moby Dick as well as leader of the Fourth Division.

With a crew the size of the Whitebeard Pirates, meals were a major concern in keeping operations going from day to day. And this was among the ruffians of the waves. Captains who couldn’t keep their subordinates fed while out at sea were not in a good position.

Since Thatch became commander of the Fourth Division, it had been put in charge of managing the crew’s kitchen. Its members were all cooks, hunters, or fishermen.

“Mmm, this is quality meat.”

“You bet. We got our hands on some marbled wild cattle.”

Thanks to the widespread use of saline water filters, the problem of procuring fresh water on long voyages had been solved. Showers could be had. And if you added nice hot soup (with meat) and bread, rice balls, and tea, most of your problems were solved.

“Cattle? Where do you find cows at sea?”

“You don’t, idiot. Kotatsu got off on land and hunted it for us.”

“Grrrr…meow!”

Whoa, such a cute sound for such a big creature.

As the pirates packed the long bench at the table to eat their meal, they fawned over the wildcat.

“This thing’s completely tame, huh?”

“I was the first one to feed him. He kills rats in the larder, hunts in exchange for everything he eats, and he’s just a damn fine cat all around. He was very popular on the winter island we stopped at recently. The nurses were squabbling over which of them got to snuggle with him to keep warm.”

“Wow, he’s all the rage with the crew. In fact…hang on, you smell like shampoo. Have you been getting baths too, fuzzball?”

“See, Kotatsu’s a real pirate. He understands the relationship between favors earned and returned. Not like some other moochers around here.”

Kotatsu meowed as he prowled over to Ace and curled up on the floor. Ace didn’t say a word as he devoured the meat that Kotatsu had brought.

“How long are you gonna keep going after Pops?”

“I dunno.”

“Listen…Whitebeard’s life isn’t just his own concern.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Ace, sticking his spoon into his mouth.

“Oh yeah? What do you know?”

“Whitebeard uses that flag to protect his territory. Fish-Man Island and the other places, and all the people living there. If something happened to him…”

Then opportunistic hordes would come from every direction, and stain the ocean red with blood.

“That’s right. But you still don’t get it.”

“Eh?”

“Listen, Ace…if you were a little bit tougher, then you and your friends wouldn’t be alive right now. We would’ve made certain of that.”

“Huh?!”

In other words, if Ace were an opponent that Whitebeard could not overlook, then his division leaders would have shown no mercy in defending his territory.

But they were spared because Ace was weak.

Kotatsu licked his face, almost as though to comfort him. A cat could be tamed with enough food. But a human being wasn’t so simple. Because…

Because why?

Because of pride? Pride in what? Because he was frustrated that he lost to Whitebeard?

To begin with, Ace’s ultimate goal was to garner more fame than the King of the Pirates.

He grew up hating his father, and it was the only thing Ace could think of that would release his heart from the grips of that hatred, so that he could live again. That’s why he went after Whitebeard, Roger’s former rival. And that rival turned out to be far beyond Ace’s reach. Which would mean that his hated father, too, must still be far out of reach…

Ace’s troubles hadn’t been solved. And that’s why he was stuck in such a disgraceful state.

“Does Whitebeard…”

“What?”

“Does he always do this? Tame pirates who try to take his life?”

It’s easy to speak about a man’s greatness, but perhaps this was evidence of it.

“Look, don’t think about it too hard, okay? You’re not really the contemplative type, are you? He’s the same way… He’s easy to understand.”

“Huh?”

“Pops is a pirate. A pirate in the good old style. He shows you who he is. He’s not two-faced. So he likes others who have that pirate’s way about them. In the fight, you helped your people escape, didn’t you? And you yourself swore not to escape. He likes dummies like you, I think.”

Ace had been a great captain at that moment. That one moment, at least.

“I…”

“If you want to leave, we’re not going to stop you. But if you’re going to eat our food, then honor the code. The way that Kotatsu and your friends are doing.”

Crash!

A dish shattered.

At the end of the long table where Ace was sitting was a man who was making a ruckus as he ate.

“Hey! This fish pie is especially delicious!”

“So don’t smash the plates, Teech.”

“Zeha ha ha ha! Oh? What was that, Thatch? Sorry, that smelt was still too lively!” teased the man who had broken his dish by jabbing a fork all the way through it.

“I’m going to serve you on a steel dish next time.”

“Zeha ha ha ha!” the man laughed again. His presence at the meal table changed the atmosphere entirely.

“What’s with that guy?” said Ace skeptically. He was a pirate raised by bandits, so if he was creeped out, that was saying something.

The man was large—nearly as big and barrel-chested as Jimbei, but hairy as well.

“That’s Teech. He’s been in this business a long time.” said Thatch. He looked to be in his thirties. He and Thatch treated each other like equals, though Thatch was the division leader.

“So did he know the King of the Pirates, then? But he doesn’t have a bounty on his head.”

“Actually, you know what? He’s just like you, Ace.”

“Like me? How so?”

“His name’s got—” Thatch started to say. Ace looked up with surprise.

The large man, Teech, was now standing directly over them, staring down with piercing eyes.

“You the hundred-million kid who turned down the Seven Warlords?”

The man’s attitude was abrasive, mocking. Ace’s expression stiffened.

“You ate a fruit, right? Which one?”

“It’s the Flame-Flame Fruit, he says. Stop getting into it with the youngsters, Teech,” Thatch warned.

“Aha! Zeha ha ha ha!” Teech laughed, and smacked Ace on the back with incredible force. It caused him to double up coughing.

“Koff, koff! What the…?”

“I’m Teech! The name’s Marshall D. Teech. So, you’ve got the Flame-Flame Fruit, eh? I hear that all the Devil Fruits taste like trash. Is that true?”

“Koff… No, I wouldn’t say that. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever eaten,” said Ace. Of course, when he ate it he was starving on an uninhabited island, so flavor was the last thing he was worried about.

“Well, well, that’s a lucky stroke! So a Devil Fruit tastes like trash, but it’s not inedible, huh? I wonder if Pops’s and Marco’s fruits tasted that bad… Zeha ha ha ha!”

Braaapp! Teech left the mess hall trailing the stench of a tremendous fart behind him. Ace wrinkled his nose at the stink of it.

“What kind of a stupid laugh is that?” he grumbled.

“I know. He’s a big cantankerous bastard…but he’s not a bad guy.”

“Hmph. If you say so. Hmm? What’s up, Kotatsu?” Ace said, looking down.

“Grrrrr…”

Kotatsu was curled up on the floor, his tail wound protectively around himself.

“Whoa, he’s all freaked out.”

“Did he eat some bad squid or something?”

The large cat continued to quiver, never taking his eyes off the door to the mess hall.

—6—

Whitebeard stood on the deck of the ship. Behind him was Thatch, who had brought Ace up with him.

“Hang on, Ace! You asked me to bring you to Pops because you had business to discuss with him. You didn’t say anything about this, though,” said Thatch, aghast.

“I’m not going to ruin your honor. I mean to do exactly as I just said.” Ace stared up at Whitebeard.

Thatch ran his hands over his head in consternation, but did his best to sum it all up. “So let me get this straight, Ace… You said you owe Pops a debt. What debt is that?”

“You fed my crewmates.”

“You’ve been eating too,” Thatch pointed out.

Ace continued, scratching his head awkwardly. “My point is, it’s honest work for a debt incurred! I’ll repay the favor! I’ll work off what I’ve eaten! That’s…that’s how I’ve lived, ever since I was a kid. I don’t know any other way to do things.”

In other words, he’d made up his mind to do the right thing—he just wasn’t quite clear on how to do it.

“So…you’re joining us, then? You’re going to be Pops’ son?”

“No.”

“What? You’re not?”

“I’m…I’m repaying my debt! I can’t dishonor the code in front of my crew! So put me to work,” said Ace. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, exactly, so he left it up to Whitebeard.

“Work? What can you do? Are you going to perform odd jobs on deck? A rookie worth nine digits?” wondered Thatch.

“That’s not going to pay for the cost of my meals,” Ace told him. “I want to work. I want to work enough that you’ll owe me, Whitebeard.”

“Owe you? What are you hoping to do by putting Pops in debt to you?” Thatch asked.

“When he owes me, then I’ll collect. That’s the code, isn’t it? So when that happens, Whitebeard…I’ll demand a duel with you.”

“Huh?”

He’d rendered Thatch speechless. Ace still wanted to go after Whitebeard’s head. He just wasn’t going to be scheming sneak attacks around the clock anymore. The duel would only come when Ace had earned the favor.

Whitebeard mulled over this idea. “Is that so?” he asked.

“It is so.”

“All right, deal. Was that all?”

“Wait…wait, wait, wait! Hold on, Ace! You too, Pops! Just because you accept this doesn’t mean I will! How many dozens of times has Pops flattened you by now? Why don’t you wise up and…”

“The deal’s done,” Ace said, cutting him off. “What would you have me do?”

“Go on and wash some dishes, fireball boy. And sooner or later, I’ll give you a bigger job to do…Gura ra ra ra,” Whitebeard chuckled as he vanished into his cabin.

Ace watched him go with a deadly serious look on his face.

And Thatch simply looked lost. “Ahh, that’s right. You might be an idiot, Ace…but Pops is an idiot when it comes to pirates, too…”

“You heard what we said. This is a challenge between me and Whitebeard. I need you to be our witness, Thatch.”

“Sounds like I’m getting a raw deal here. But if it’s gonna be a duel, there are some rules. Pops’s head won’t come cheap,” said Thatch. He thought it over, then continued, “First of all, you can only challenge him to a duel when he agrees to it. And if you die as a result, that’s on you. Also…”

“Hey, Thatch!” Whitebeard emerged out of his cabin again.

“Yes, Pops? What is it?”

“He’s an official guest of the crew now. You’ll be responsible for him.”

“Me? G-great…”

“On the other hand…you’re in charge of our kitchen too. So I’ll put someone else in charge of giving him work. How about Teech? He’s an old salt, so he knows the way we do things,” said Whitebeard.

And with that, he retreated to his cabin again.

—7—

Did you hear that? Fire Fist is our guest now.

What does Pops think he’s doing?

Thatch is the one responsible, but it’s Teech who’s taking care of him…

Portgaz D. Ace was the indisputable topic of conversation for the Whitebeard Pirates during this time. He clearly had a screw loose based on the fact that he wanted a one-on-one duel with Whitebeard. And now he was going to make a name for himself with the crew, just for the opportunity to have that duel?

What in the world could it mean?

“Our crew doesn’t really sweat the small details. If there’s any question, just follow the code, Pops says. Of course, he’s the one who will decide what the code is. He gave you the go-ahead, so no one here’s gonna complain about your duel,” said Teech, Ace’s handler.

But what was he “handling,” exactly? Ace washed dishes, scrubbed the deck, and hung up the laundry, and Teech gave him no instruction or advice at any point. He just scarfed food and scratched his ass.

If he challenges Pops a hundred times and still doesn’t win, Ace is gonna wear our flag!

How many times has he lost already?!

Rumors swirled around the Moby Dick. In the mess hall, Ace complained to the head cook.

“What do they mean, a hundred times? I don’t remember attaching any conditions like that.”

“Of course you don’t. I spread that part,” Thatch said as he prepared a dish. He had added a number of conditions to the duel with Whitebeard, apparently. “A competition’s got to have proper terms and limits, after all. You can’t say it’ll happen ten years later just because you feel like it.”

The terms Thatch had cooked up were all over the ship by now. It was common knowledge to the crew, and they expected those rules to be followed.

“I never said that I’d capitulate and join Whitebeard.”

“Well, his head’s not gonna come that cheap… Besides, if you can’t win in a hundred tries, you’re not going to win in a thousand. Here, light the pot.”

Ace started a fire out of sheer frustration—using his Flame-Flame powers, of course.

“Oooh, that’s nice. The most important thing for a wok is the heat! Hey, Ace…if you do join our crew, come to the Fourth Division. I’ll craft you into a first-rate flame cook.”

“Very funny.”