Anyone who puts Blackbeard in this position would have a mental breakdown.
Twenty-eight years.
Twenty-eight years of patience.
Ever since he was a teenager, Marshall D. Teach had served under Whitebeard, hiding his true ambitions for one single goal—the Yami Yami no Mi. The mythical Devil Fruit that would allow him to stand above all others.
As time passed, hope had almost abandoned him. The world was vast, and the chances of finding a specific Devil Fruit in the boundless sea were practically zero. He had resigned himself to remaining under Whitebeard's shadow for life.
Until, finally—he saw it.
The fruit he had waited decades for had appeared before him.
He thought his patience had paid off. That the moment he consumed the Yami Yami no Mi, his counterattack would begin, and he would carve his name into history as the strongest.
Yet reality was cruel.
First, he ran into Whitebeard—who, even in his old age, proved a monster beyond comprehension. Then, before he could even catch his breath, he encountered Solomon Carl.
Carl's sword slashes had been relentless, carving through his body with a force that made him question everything. The blows weren't just physical—they slashed at his soul, threatening to break his very will.
Teach collapsed to the ground, gasping. His gaze fixed on Carl with unrestrained terror, as if looking at the embodiment of death itself.
"Well~ he's really strong. This monster…" Catarina Devon, one of the worst female criminals in history, licked her sharp claws, her usual arrogance laced with dread.
She had barely deflected Carl's earlier strike, and even now, her arms trembled uncontrollably.
"What are you thinking so much for? I'll give you cover—just kill this damn Marine! Meow!"
From a distance, Avalo Pizarro—The Corrupt King—grinned wildly, dual pistols in hand.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A volley of bullets tore through the air, aimed directly at Carl's head.
But Carl didn't move.
Instead, his crimson eyes gleamed ominously, and with a flick of his wrist—Sakura Ten danced.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Twenty-eight shots, sliced into halves mid-air.
Then—
Zheng!
A cold light streaked across the battlefield as Catarina Devon lunged from above, her claws poised for a fatal strike.
Carl's expression remained unfazed.
"Like a siege?"
His left hand moved.
Deadwood—his other blade—unsheathed with terrifying speed. One slash sent Catarina reeling backward.
Carl exhaled.
"Scatter, Senbonzakura."
A gust of wind swept the battlefield.
Then—countless cherry blossom petals appeared, floating gently across the sky.
A beautiful sight.
A deadly illusion.
Teach's eyes widened in horror.
He knew these petals.
They weren't petals at all.
They were razor-sharp blades.
"Jikoku: Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."
A chilling chant echoed through the battlefield.
In an instant, the floating petals transformed.
Thousands of menacing blades formed an ominous wall in the air, hovering with surgical precision.
A suffocating, murderous aura spread out.
Doflamingo—watching from afar—narrowed his eyes.
"This ability again… He used it back in Mariejois."
Teach and his crew felt their bodies grow cold. Every instinct screamed danger.
"H-Hey… this isn't good…" Teach muttered, his voice shaking. His mind conjured the terrifying image of himself being impaled a thousand times over.
Even before the attack landed, phantom pain crawled up his spine.
Carl lifted a single finger.
The swords moved.
Shing! Shing! Shing!
A storm of swords rained down.
"Darkness!"
Teach roared, veins bulging as thick black mist billowed from his hands.
A massive curtain of darkness expanded outward, absorbing the incoming blades into its abyss.
"Zeahahaha! You can't do anything to me, Carl!" Teach cackled as his confidence resurfaced.
BOOM!
The battlefield trembled as the impact of Carl's assault left the surrounding ground in ruins. Smoke and debris clouded the air.
Catarina and Avalo Pizarro barely managed to dodge, panting heavily as they retreated behind Teach.
Both exhaled in relief.
"What about Shiryu? Can he survive this?"
Catarina's eyes darted toward the distance.
Teach's expression darkened.
"If he dies, then he wasn't strong enough."
Avalo Pizarro snickered.
"Hah, I thought we were done for this time. Looks like we can keep this little alliance going after all."
Teach's fists clenched.
"Tch. Just a setback. There are plenty of Devil Fruits out there."
His ambitions had not wavered.
His true goal had always been Whitebeard's Gura Gura no Mi—the strongest Paramecia in existence. The power to destroy the world.
If not Whitebeard's, then there was still Kaido's. Or Big Mom's…
Teach grinned.
"There are other options. The Four Emperors' abilities are all worth taking."
But before he could finish his thought—
A voice interrupted him.
"Are you too relieved?"
His blood froze.
"What?"
The three criminals turned their heads in unison.
The black mist around them dissipated.
Above them—twenty-four massive blades hovered menacingly.
Carl stood nearby, calm as ever.
HUMMMMM—
The blades split. Twelve remained suspended in mid-air. Twelve plunged into the shattered earth.
A sword formation took shape.
Teach's pupils shrank.
He instinctively turned to flee.
So did Catarina and Avalo Pizarro.
But—
They couldn't move.
An unseen force crushed down upon them, pinning them in place.
Carl's eyes flashed cold.
"Extreme Ghost Swordsmanship—Storm Style."
A sinister killing intent swept across the battlefield.
Teach struggled, his body drenched in sweat.
**"Why… can't I move?!"
Pizarro whimpered.
"I think we're really gonna die here, meow…"
Carl's swords moved.
SHING! SHING! SHING!
Blood sprayed into the air.
Teach screamed.
"AAARGHH! IT HURTS! YOU BASTARD! STOP IT!!!"
Each slash carved deeper, splitting flesh and muscle apart.
The final strike cleaved upward—hurling all three criminals through the air.
They crashed violently onto the battlefield.
Teach twitched on the ground, his body mutilated beyond recognition.
Catarina—thanks to her Zoan Awakening—was barely breathing.
Pizarro, however, had been cut to pieces. His corpse lay still, unmistakably lifeless.
Carl exhaled.
"Still alive?"
Even this wasn't enough to kill Teach?
His most devastating technique—imbued with Haki—should've ended anyone.
Yet Teach remained.
Though barely conscious, his mouth curled into a grin.
"Solomon… Carl…"
His voice was filled with venom.
Carl sighed, lighting a cigar.
His job was done.
Most of the worst criminals were either dead or incapacitated.
Marshal Sengoku stepped forward.
"It's time to arrest them."
Carl turned his gaze toward the battlefield.
Marineford was in chaos. Pirates and Marines clashed in a frenzy.
Then—
A single voice echoed across the battlefield.
"STOP!"
Every head turned toward the port.
There—standing defiantly before Admiral Akainu—was a pink-haired figure.
Coby.
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