150 The ripples continue (2/2)

(A/N serious= will take a while to recover; Lethal= possibility of death is high)

The other side has three casualties, with two from Jagged Dagger's crew, who Borsolino claims he injured enough to seriously maim if not outright cripple. Thatch of the Whitebeards also suffered serious damage though likelihood of the injury lasting is extremely small.

The issue is that Garp had to take action and faced off against Jagged Dagger, and from the information that we received, Jagged Dagger managed to wound him. The injury is deep but manageable seeing as the method utilized was hastily initiated. That being the case however, Jagged Dagger can now with surety be said to be on par with Admirals. Thus, a revision of his bounty is necessary.

How do we deal with Whitebeard?” Sengoku finished ending the impromptu briefing.

A lengthy pause followed, and then the five elder stars began to speak.

******

Whitebeard growled in annoyance as he stared at a few of his children horsing around on deck, with his beefy hands he began to nurse the bridge of his nose.

”YOU BRATS! GET BACK TO WORK!!” he bellowed aloud as he slammed the armrest to his chair in mock annoyance. It was only the first light of the morning and though he was not personally hung over from the exhaustion of the previous days activates the same could not be said for the newer additions to the mammoth crew.

The few on deck stopped immediately, sufficiently chastised. There were few rules on the Moby Dick, chief among them being not to ruin the old man's retirement life. However much the older denizens on the crew disagreed it was plain for all to see. (The retirement I mean.)

A small sigh later the old man began to raise a bottle to his lips, it was the brew that he got almost exclusively for himself, and every guzzle could cause his tongue to shrivel and his throat to burn. He fucking loved this stuff.

Ever since information on the clash between the rabid beast and the sugar high mad women had reached him, a kernel of worry had begun to sprout within his mind. Would his children be all right?

”Pops!” A sudden voice called out, breaking him from his contemplation, as he stared at the young man running towards him from across the deck he could not help but worry. It was Tiny Timmy, the man in charge of receiving and processing all the information that the out stationed teams reported, and right now there were only two teams that had been dispatched.

”It's from Marco!” his squeaky voice called as he kneeled down exhaling deeply.

Then the old emperor frowned.