Vice-captain of Whitebeard pirates

Larson walked steadily through the dark tide as if on flat ground, ignoring the massive giants rising on both sides. Despite the ominous presence, Larson didn't even glance their way.

The most shocked person, however, was Marco, who was following Larson. His eyelids twitched as he witnessed the giants effortlessly sliced in two by Larson's attacks. To Marco, these monstrous beings had seemed insurmountable, yet for Larson, they were dispatched with a single blow.

In that moment, Marco realized just how vast the strength gap between him and Larson truly was. A bitter smile crossed his face—was there any hope of ever reaching Larson's level of power in his lifetime?

No.

Unless he could live for thousands of years, Marco doubted he'd ever come close.

Unaware, Marco didn't notice that a giant behind him had revived, fully regenerated and charging directly toward him rather than Larson.

Clang!

As Larson's sword fell, the giant continued to hold its running stance, its dark eyes glancing down at its own disintegrating form, struggling to comprehend how quickly it had been defeated.

"What are you doing, brat?" Larson frowned. If Marco hadn't been distracted, Larson wouldn't have needed to turn back and deal with the giant, costing him valuable time and throwing off his rhythm.

Though it had only been a moment, in that brief lapse, dozens of giants revived around them, encircling Larson and blocking his escape.

Of course, Larson's strength far outmatched these giants. No matter how many surrounded him, their fate remained the same.

However, it was a time-consuming nuisance. Clearing these revived giants would only prolong the battle as they continued to resurrect, creating a frustrating cycle for Larson.

Marco, sensing Larson's irritation, lowered his head and dared not respond.

Larson cast a glance at him. "Try to see if you can fly out."

With most of the nearby giants already dealt with by Larson and the black tide on either side held back by Susanoo, the air was now open for escape.

Marco nodded, spreading his wings and ascending into the sky.

As the giants saw Marco's attempt to flee, they leaped up, trying to intercept him. But with Larson there, the idea of reaching Marco was a mere fantasy for them. Larson cut down most of the giants that jumped into the air with swift, lethal strikes.

The few remaining giants posed no significant threat to Marco, who dodged them deftly in mid-air, occasionally kicking at any giants that lunged his way.

Just as he was about to clear the dark tide, Marco let out a sigh of relief, vowing never to take risks again. This experience had left him humbled, realizing he'd been far too overconfident.

But just as he relaxed, a prickling sensation ran through Marco's scalp, and his instinct for danger spiked to its highest level.

Without a second thought, he attempted to dodge, but as he did, something shot past him, striking the ground with a sickening hiss that corroded the earth and raised a cloud of white smoke.

Shocked, Marco looked back.

Above him hovered a black hand, eerie and menacing, hanging ominously in mid-air.

It had returned.

The black hand that hadn't appeared during Marco's previous attempts now resurfaced, and this time, unlike the hand Rayleigh had cut off before, it was whole and intact.

Marco couldn't tell if this was the same hand that had initially attacked him, but an unsettling feeling in his gut told him it had locked onto him. It was as if any movement would trigger another assault.

Fearful of moving, Marco remained still. The scorched ground was evidence enough that contact with this entity would be dangerous.

Desperately, Marco's gaze shifted to Larson, hoping he'd notice the situation and come to his aid. But he was disappointed; Larson, believing Marco was safe, was focused on clearing the black tide to ease the pressure on others.

Looking toward Whitebeard and Roger, he found the same—they were engrossed in their own battles, entirely unaware of his plight.

Marco gritted his teeth. With no one coming to his aid, he'd have to find a way out on his own.

Marco raised his head, steeling himself as he locked eyes with the ominous black hand. "Let's see what you're capable of!" he muttered defiantly.

Sensing Marco's resolve, the black hand responded with a mocking gesture. It raised a single finger and curled it toward him, as if daring him to come closer.

Taking a deep breath, Marco felt the weight of exhaustion bearing down on him. He'd already expended a significant amount of energy maintaining his armor, and facing this new threat was daunting. Still, he couldn't back down now—not as a captain of the Whitebeard Pirates. The thought of being looked down upon a second time was unbearable.

"Bring it on!" Marco silently rallied himself, launching into the air with fierce determination. The black hand, seemingly surprised by Marco's bold move, froze for a split second, which allowed Marco to get closer.

"Perfect!" Marco thought, his eyes lighting up. Summoning the last of his strength, he armed his legs with Haki and launched a powerful kick at the black hand.

But instead of meeting resistance, Marco's leg plunged through it as if he'd kicked water. Alarmed, he tried to pull back, but it was too late—the black hand clung tightly to his leg and began to crawl upwards, slowly consuming him.

The memory of Blue's death flashed through Marco's mind. He understood instantly that if this entity managed to cover his entire body, his fate might mirror Blue's.

Desperately, Marco changed course, plummeting toward the ground in a last-ditch attempt to seek help. He knew he couldn't handle this alone.

Meanwhile, Larson felt a sudden unease and glanced up, spotting Marco's rapid descent and the inky darkness snaking up his leg. Larson's expression darkened. "What on earth did he do?" he muttered in irritation, weighing whether he could afford to go assist him.

Yet before he could move, the surrounding giants surged forward all at once, blocking his path.

"Get out of my way!" Larson snarled, unwilling to waste another second on them. Summoning Susanoo, he pushed its form to a higher level, advancing from the first to the second stage. The sudden increase in power strained his eyes, sending a sharp ache through them, but he gritted his teeth, enduring the pain.

The world around him blurred momentarily as blood began to trickle from his eyes.