Onepiece: I Am Aizen, The Strongest Admiral

"This kid!"

The air aboard the **Moby Dick** was tense. As Aizen leapt from the ship, many of Whitebeard's crew turned their gazes toward him, their expressions a mix of shock, anger, and apprehension.

For some, the thought was unmistakable—this Marine prodigy was a monster in the making. If left unchecked, he could dominate the seas for decades, suppressing the pirates entirely. The desire to eliminate such a threat now before it fully matured lingered in their hearts.

Yet, Whitebeard's silence kept them in check.

"Are you truly unwilling to join me?" Whitebeard finally spoke, his deep voice reverberating across the ship. "If that's the case, then get off my ship! Brat, before I change my mind, stop hanging around and giving me a headache."

The declaration wasn't just directed at Aizen but served as a warning to his crew not to act on any dangerous impulses.

Aizen's ever-composed smile didn't falter. "So long, then," he said lightly. Without hesitation, he turned, leapt over the railing, and landed gracefully on his own ship.

Looking back at the towering Moby Dick, Aizen's smile widened slightly. "The Whitebeard Pirates... simple and straightforward as always," he mused aloud.

Every move and thought of Whitebeard had unfolded precisely as Aizen anticipated. Though he wasn't yet on par with these legendary figures in raw power, his intellect and strategic foresight gave him a distinct edge.

"Whitebeard, thanks for the favor," Aizen called out, his tone almost playful.

The remark left the crew bewildered, some visibly bristling at what they interpreted as mockery.

"Brat! Get lost already!" Whitebeard's booming voice echoed, tinged with irritation. As powerful as he was, being outmaneuvered—even in a minor way—by a Marine stung.

Aizen chuckled softly, the sound carrying faintly over the waves. Not lingering, he guided his ship away from the Whitebeard Pirates, disappearing from view.

---

Back aboard the **Moby Dick**, the crew stood in uneasy silence.

"Father, why didn't you take the chance to get rid of him?" one of the pirates finally asked. The sentiment resonated with many—allowing a Marine prodigy like Aizen to roam free seemed reckless, even dangerous.

Whitebeard's sharp gaze swept across the questioning faces. "You idiot sons!" he barked, his voice carrying both disappointment and authority. "If any of you had one-tenth of that brat's cunning, you'd know why I didn't."

His words silenced them instantly. Whitebeard's frustration wasn't entirely hidden; the inability of his sons to grasp the bigger picture was evident. Yet, his love for them remained unwavering.

He let out a heavy sigh, his eyes narrowing as he watched the fading outline of Aizen's ship. "I envy those Marine bastards. To have a junior like that as their heir... truly enviable."

The legendary pirate's tone softened as he reflected. "The future belongs to these young ones. As for my crew, Margao's our brightest star. I hope this experience pushes him to rise up and close the gap."

Among the captains, **Hunting Shadow**—Whitebeard's trusted first-division commander—stood in quiet observation. His sharp instincts noted the subtle shift in Whitebeard's demeanor toward Marco.

"It seems Father plans to focus on Margao's growth after this," Hunting Shadow thought. "That aligns perfectly—I've been meaning to groom him as my successor for the first division anyway."

His gaze fell on Marco, who sat silently nursing his wounds. The young phoenix's expression was a mixture of frustration and determination.

"That monster Aizen..." Hunting Shadow murmured to himself. He wasn't deluded enough to think Marco could surpass someone like Aizen anytime soon. For now, his hope lay in Marco learning to keep up with such a relentless force.

---

Meanwhile, Marco clenched his fists, the dull ache in his chest a painful reminder of his defeat.

"Am I really so far behind?" he muttered. The pride of being the Phoenix—the heir to Whitebeard's legacy—warred with the cold reality of his current weakness.

Marco's Devil Fruit ability, the mythical powers of the Phoenix, granted him extraordinary resilience and recovery. Yet, the gap between his potential and Aizen's overwhelming presence felt insurmountable.

"He didn't even rely on Devil Fruit... just pure mastery of his body and power," Marco realized.

The other pirates exchanged glances but said nothing, their minds churning with unspoken doubts and fears. Though Aizen was gone, his presence lingered—a shadow cast over the Whitebeard Pirates' pride and resolve.

For Marco and the crew, the encounter with Aizen wasn't merely a battle but a stark reminder of the challenges they'd face in the evolving era of the sea.