On a certain nearby island, two men were holding a training session in a meadow. One of them, the Ascendant named Whitebeard, was watching over the other, a new recruit by the name of Jackie.
"398...399...400." Jackie collapsed on the ground, almost unconscious with fatigue. Whitebeard checked his clock-watch and shook his head disapprovingly. "You took ten minutes extra to reach four hundred push-ups."
Jackie couldn't even reply. He had been tasked with doing 400 push-ups in two hours, and had failed that. Miserably.
Morgan's training looked almost pitiful compared to this hell. While he had been working on consistency over quantity with Morgan, Whitebeard was demanding both a ridiculous amount pushups, pull-ups and sit-ups for a ridiculous amount of time. "You're gonna have to change your diet too. You can't learn basic Ley with that pathetic physicality."
He still laid sprawled on the ground with his face buried in the grass. "I gantb du shik."
Whitebeard stepped on his back, causing him to raise his head in a flash while screaming in pain. "Get your face out of the dirt if you're gonna talk to someone." He said, and pulled Jackie up by the back of his neck, as though he was a rucksack.
Once he had recovered, he got up and started warming up again. Whitebeard noted that Jackie had exceptional pace of recovery. Just minutes ago he was barely able to breathe. "That's enough for the day, kid."
"What? Why?" He asked, genuinely confused by the decision.
Whitebeard tossed him his shirt and walked towards the boat they had arrived on. "Your crewmates are planning to go to a nearby bar. Or at least, that's what your vice-captain said. Doubt you'd say no to her on a decision involving cuisine."
"Can't disagree with that. Still hate having to stop training all of a sudden though." He replied, putting on his shirt and wiping the sweat on his face using his sleeve.
Whitebeard sat down on the little boat, and smirked at him. "But I thought you didn't like my training."
Jackie smiled as he sat down on the other side. "Yep. Absolutely hate it."
Whitebeard nodded, and grabbed the oars to start rowing back to Tierra Dorada. "Good. In a couple of days, I'm planning to double your training. That means 800 push-ups, 400 pull-ups, 600 sit-ups, and a run around Tierra Dorada." He waited for Jackie's response.
"Hey kid."
"Kid."
"WAKE THE FUCK UP!"
* * * * *
Before any of the Jackie crew could leave, they had to endure a proper yelling session from Borris.
"I told you already. We aren't here for sightseeing or for running around the place chasing after kids and cutting down thugs!" He pointed at Jackie. "Why didn't you just leave the damn basket with the thief? You could've just bought another batch of pears, couldn't you?!"
Jackie shook his head. "There's no way I'm gonna get robbed and just stand there complaining." Borris rubbed his forehead. Of course. The pride of a pirate wouldn't allow someone like him to get looted by anybody else.
He turned to Elma. "And you. Where were you when your captain was doing all this? You're supposed to be the vice-captain. Be more responsible!"
Elma shrugged, casually lying on two chairs lined up together. "There's nothing I can do to change his mind when he's on the move. He's too headstrong, even for me."
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Finally, he shifted his gaze towards Eddie. "And where were you while all this was going on?" Eddie rubbed his forehead with his left hand, as if warding off a headache.
"I ran into a pretty interesting guy and got stuck in conversation. Or got stuck in his lab, more like." He said, thinking about Caine and the brief talk the two of them had.
Borris immediately knew he was talking about Caine. That guy...why can't he just stay half asleep like he always does?
"Calm down, Borris Boy! Don't yer think yer bein' too harsh on em?" It was hard to mistake the accent of Brice for anybody else. Borris glared at Brice. "Look, I'm not telling them not to enjoy themselves. I'm saying they have a responsibility to be careful when they're on this ship. We're the second most wanted crew in the world! A bunch of rookies who've been at sea for only two years won't understand the danger of getting found or captured by the Spanish."
Brice laughed that throaty laugh of his, and wrapped his massive arm around Borris' neck. "Gahahahahahaa! Yer've always been like that, 'aven't yer?" Borris shoved him, and the Jackie crew were shocked to see the plump man, almost twice his size, go flying.
"Easily there, Borris. Calm down. Come on. Let's get yer a glass of wine." Brice suggested to the exhausted Borris, who sighed. "Yeah. Maybe you're right." But before he left, he looked over at Jackie, Elma and Eddie one last time.
Jackie expected another brief tongue lashing. That tongue lashing never came. "Look. Just be careful. I might seem like an asshole because of the way I am, but it's because I care about this ship that I'm like this. There's Spanish spies on that island. We can't afford to get discovered. Got it?"
The three all nodded, and Borris walked off with Brice right behind him.
Jackie glanced nervously at Elma. "We're gonna screw something up now, aren't we?" He asked, and she nodded. "Every time someone tells us not to jinx something, we always end up doing exactly that."
Eddie shook his head. This trip wasn't gonna end well. He could feel it.
As the three talked, they were unaware that they were being watched by three people in particular. One of them was Old Man Jack, the bald man with the cross-shaped scar on his head, who stood on the ship's towering mast. The second was the vice-captain of the Cotton Pirates, Dorothy Perkins. She was the youngest vice-captain in the entire Whitebeard Alliance, aged only 16. The third, was a member of the Caine Pirates called Holdings, who could use his Elemental Ley to hide himself in shadows.
The core fleet did not let their guard down to the Jackie Pirates. Not one bit.
* * * * *
Let us take the time to discuss one particular man. This man, who had been feared by pirates for two decades, had taken the Pirate Age, and indeed the entire world, by storm. To the people's knowledge, there were only three who could fight him and survive, and only two still who were actually capable of actually beating him, though it was believed the third was strong enough by many as well.
This man had brought disaster to his hometown with his ambition. And along with the destruction of his hometown came the birth of Edison Redburn. The man who would go on to become the great Whitebeard, the man believed to be the only pirate to stand a chance of winning against this man.
He now stood on the cliff of an unnamed island not too far from Spanish waters, gazing at the blank horizon. His crew, made up of monstrous men and women with capabilities beyond the public's understanding, listened to his words.
They listened, and understood. They knew his choice. They respected him. Loved him. He was harsh to them. He would threaten to kill them. But the strongest members and those closest to him knew of his true nature. He would not kill a single one of his crew. Not even the smallest, weakest fodder. Not without good reason.
This man had been at war with Whitebeard for all of his two decades in piracy. He did not fear Whitebeard as much as he respected him. His strength awed him, and his willpower shook him to his core.
He had schemed. He had planned. He had planned and planned. He knew as well as Whitebeard would know, what the endgame for their feud was.
Whitebeard had to die.
The man hated Whitebeard beyond anything or anyone else in the world. He was weaker than he was. He knew this. Even Whitebeard himself had to know. And despite this, he kept struggling against the waves, trying to swim against a current which he could not overpower. The current of time. He was nearing his fifties. There was no longer room to grow, to gain power. He could never measure up to this man anymore.
So why? Why did he continue struggling? Why did he continue trying to insult him? To ruin his plans?
No. He could allow it no longer.
His vice-captain spoke about a certain man he had sent. The man nodded in approval. Another question was asked by a rather timid member of the crew. It was certainly an interesting question, and one he could not afford to answer, lest he become overconfident. So he did something else.
Blackbeard laughed.