"You know what Ace, go ahead and try it. You've heard of me, so you must know at least some of the reputation of Whitebeard commanders," Marco answered calmly, letting an arm coast over with blue flames. Hell Ace used to be the second division commander himself. "And kid I don't care what fancy rank they gave you, you'd still be out of your league. Especially if I remember you and you don't remember anything about me."

Marco had the strangest urge to talk to Ivankov about the feeling. It definitely wasn't pleasant.

"Or, you could be mature for a first," it would certainly prove to be a different Ace. One that wasn't a reckless wildfire Pops adored. One that got himself killed from it. "And sit down and we can talk. I'm not asking you to believe me yet, but I'd at least like to figure out what happened." So he could fix it. "I'm going to find out either way. This gives you a better chance of getting rid of me."