Vice-captain of Whitebeard pirates

Since even the rules of this island shun them, what else do they have to fear?

The torches were lit, and when night fell, Larson and the others chose to move forward.

There were no twists or turns, just a straight path.

It seemed that everyone believed Larson's words. At this moment, Marco and the others were filled with unprecedented courage. Although the people on the island, kneeling in submission, didn't seem afraid of them, it didn't affect their confidence at all.

Whitebeard and Roger led the way, clearing the path ahead. Gaban stayed at the rear to cover their backs, while Larson and Rayleigh stood on the left and right flanks, ensuring they could respond to any danger from any direction. They were prepared for sudden attacks.

The forest felt eerily quiet that night, and Larson sensed something strange.

This silence was unsettling.

After all, this was a forest!

Setting aside the ferocious beasts, there were countless tiny insects in a forest like this. But now, as they moved forward, not even a sound of the wind could be heard, let alone insects.

It was as if the forest had hit a pause button. Everything seemed frozen, except for them, still pressing on.

Larson wasn't the only one to notice something unusual. Both Whitebeard and Rayleigh had also sensed the anomaly.

But no one stopped, and everyone acted normal.

Unusual? So what?

So what if it was strange? This is what they had come for. The stranger the next step, the better!

This abnormality wasn't going to scare them. If they were easily frightened, they wouldn't have lasted this long at sea.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, Roger, leading the front, stopped almost simultaneously with Larson.

"Someone."

"Someone is approaching."

Larson and Roger exchanged glances before looking ahead.

"Do we need to be cautious?"

Rayleigh looked between Roger and Larson.

Larson also turned to Roger, who shook his head. "Just a few people. They seem to be others who've entered this area."

"Ah."

Shanks, Marco, and the others behind them breathed a sigh of relief.

As long as it was human, there was nothing to fear.

They knew that as long as they were dealing with humans, with someone like Larson around, there was no real danger.

What they feared was encountering something unnatural.

Larson looked toward a specific direction. Roger truly lived up to his future title as the Pirate King. In some aspects, Larson couldn't compare to him.

Just now, Larson had only noticed someone approaching from that direction. But Roger not only sensed them, he knew exactly how many there were.

In terms of observation, Roger's Haki was far superior to Larson's.

This was the first group of others they had encountered since entering the third level of the island.

It could be because the first and second levels were too dangerous.

If Larson and his crew hadn't ventured this deep, they would have encountered far fewer people.

When they first arrived, they saw countless ships parked along the shore—at least hundreds of them—but most of those people remained on the first level.

Those unkillable beasts had wiped out a large portion of them, and those who perished were resurrected by the island and sent to the second level.

Though many were powerful, few had Larson's remarkable memory to recall every face they had encountered.

Without caution, these resurrected individuals could cause tremendous harm to a pirate crew.

The critical issue was that these dead, once aware of their condition, became even stronger.

At that point, they became a disaster for anyone venturing into the second level.

As for the third level, it was much more forgiving compared to the first two. Some people might not even notice the subtle rules here after entering.

However, anyone who managed to reach the third level after enduring the challenges of the first two was either a top-tier fighter or possessed something exceptional.

The group continued their journey, paying little attention to those approaching.

The people ahead had also come from the second level, though their course seemed to have shifted. Now, they were heading directly toward Larson and his crew.

With such a large number of people in both the Whitebeard Pirates and the Roger Pirates, their footsteps and movements were thunderous, making it impossible for the approaching group not to notice them.

Larson observed that the footsteps of the other group suddenly halted. It seemed they had realized the overwhelming difference in numbers between the two sides and decided to take a detour.

A slight smirk tugged at the corners of Larson's mouth. These people were clearly sensible—or rather, very few fools could make it this far.

Just as Larson thought both groups would continue moving on peacefully, the unexpected happened. The group that had stopped resumed moving, and to Larson's surprise, they were heading straight for them again.

What shocked Larson the most was that the footsteps quickened. It was as if the other group feared they wouldn't catch up, so they broke into a run!

Everyone in the crew picked up on the noise. Roger and Whitebeard simultaneously turned to look in the direction of the incoming group.

Rayleigh silently drew his sword, his voice calm but sharp. "Seems like they think we're easy targets."

"Anyone brave enough to approach us like this must be confident. Don't underestimate them. Let's end this quickly," Larson advised.

However, despite Larson's caution, not many in the crew seemed to take his warning to heart.

It wasn't that they doubted his words, but in their minds, it seemed unnecessary. They knew the other group couldn't outmatch them in numbers or strength.

Why be on guard when the outcome seemed so obvious?

It was like an adult bullying a child—would you really need to use a sword for that?

Or would you ever fear a child just because he had a stick in his hand?

That was the mentality now as the other group's footsteps grew louder and closer.

Yet Marco and the others didn't show an ounce of concern. In fact, they wore confident smiles.

"Larson, let me handle them on my own!" Marco declared boldly.

He was certain that with Whitebeard and the others present, any danger could be swiftly dealt with if needed.

Larson glanced at him, then nodded. "Alright."

"Heh, heh," Marco grinned proudly.

"Count us in too!" Shanks and Buggy chimed in, eager to jump into the fray.

"Hey, you three brats, don't get cocky. This isn't some playground game!" Gaban scolded, frowning at their reckless enthusiasm.

No sooner had Gaban spoken than a shadow darted out of the jungle.

Marco, grinning ear to ear, rushed forward to meet the figure, excitement radiating from him.

But Larson's brow furrowed. Something wasn't right. The shadow looked strangely familiar, almost identical to the one they had spotted earlier.