The Moby Dick rocked violently as the waves thrashed against the hull, the sun dipping low and casting long, gold-streaked shadows across the deck. A frantic commotion broke out near the ship's bow. Whitebeard's massive frame loomed over the chaos, arms crossed, his deep voice booming across the deck. "Marco! What's happening out there?"

Marco's green eyes were sharp, wings tucked in as he hovered a few feet above the water. He had just lifted the mermaid from the sea, her tail bleeding from the anchor wound. His hands moved with calm precision, bandaging the injury while murmuring quietly. "She's alive, but we need to stabilize her immediately. Keep everyone back!"

Ace flicked a small flame across the water toward the retreating sailors, a wide grin on his face as his eyes burned with both mischief and protectiveness. "You thought you could take her? Hah! Not today!" His fire licked the water, creating a wall of smoke that masked the Moby Dick's movements.

The deck of the Moby Dick had quieted after the chaos, but the air was still alive with energy. Whitebeard leaned against the railing, stroking his massive mustache, eyes sweeping the crew with pride. "Hah! You all did well today. Every one of you kept your head, and our guest is safe. That's what matters." His deep voice carried both warmth and authority, and a few crew members straightened a little, basking in his approval.