Garp scratched his cheek, looking equal parts sheepish and annoyed.
"Honestly, I didn't expect Arton to have that kind of trick," he grumbled. "One tiny round, and an entire world blows out of it. If I hadn't reacted in time, I'd be in critical condition."
Even so, he'd eaten it hard. "My leg got run through by a blade—can't use Geppo to chase them," he admitted, flexing the injured limb and hissing.
Gion fell silent; she'd seen that miniature Unlimited Blade Works unfurl from a single bullet. It was an ultimate technique—a whole world compressed into a point. Without monstrous defense, a direct hit could be fatal.
"Don't lose sleep over it," Garp added, trying to sound breezy. "Arton slipping into Paradise—the first half of the Grand Line—doesn't mean we stop. We've got more Marines there and tighter intel nets. We'll cross paths again. As for Ain—knowing that kid's character, he won't harm her. Once he feels safe, he might even let her go."
Gion exhaled, long and brittle. She couldn't explain the truth about the diary system to Garp. After a clipped "Got it," she hung up.
Garp stared at the silent transponder snail and snorted.
"Gion's been a little… intense lately. Don't tell me losing to Arton once rattled her that much," he muttered, rolling his shoulder as the Navy ship drew alongside.
Zephyr himself hauled Garp aboard. "What happened to you? Where's Ain?"
The sight of the Hero of the Marines—shirt in tatters, blood everywhere, a dramatic through-and-through in his left leg—made even Zephyr wince. On paper, Garp outmuscled him; yet here Zephyr stood with lighter wounds.
"Sorry. Didn't get Ain back," Garp said. "But relax—I didn't see everything, yet she seemed to be getting along with the girls on Arton's ship. She should be safe, at least for now."
Zephyr's jaw tightened. "And you?"
"I'm fine," Garp shrugged. "Observation Haki gave me a one-second peek ahead, let me avoid the kill shot. Mostly surface cuts—annoying, not fatal."
He clicked his tongue. "Arton's a real piece of work. I saw no sword on him and figured he wouldn't use the stuff he pulled on Mihawk or the Shiki. Who knew he'd pack Unlimited Blade Works into a bullet? That shot really did me in."
Chapter 300 — Aftermath, Exhaustion, and Kaya's Vow
Zephyr listened to Garp's grousing in grim silence. He knew exactly how terrifying that world of blades was; even the World's Greatest Swordsman had been pinned beneath it once.
If Arton truly compressed all those swords into a single round, the detonation's force would be beyond reason.
"His toolkit is too strange," Zephyr exhaled. "Either way, we report to Sengoku. We failed to stop him in East Blue—and you're injured. A bounty is inevitable."
He pulled out the transponder snail. Minutes later, Sengoku's shout rattled his office walls: "You didn't catch him—and Garp's hurt? What on earth happened out there, Zephyr?!"
…
Elsewhere, the Sylvan slammed back into the sea.
Uta burst into the infirmary and stopped short at the sight: Arton, limp and unconscious, soaking in a medicinal bath; Kaya kneeling beside the barrel, checking his breathing every few seconds.
Behind Uta clustered Nami, Nojiko, Tashigi—and even Ain. With Carina on lookout, the rest had packed into the tiny room.
"Is he okay?" Uta asked, voice tight.
"Not as healthy as usual," Kaya admitted, "but his breathing is steady. I… think he'll be fine." The words were brave; the worry in her eyes wasn't.
"Damn that Garp," Uta muttered, fists balling. "Cross my path again and I'll—"
"It's on us for being too weak," Tashigi said, biting her lip. "If we'd handled Zephyr without Arton, he wouldn't have burned himself out stopping Garp."
Ain lowered her gaze, guilt glinting in the silence.
"Everyone—don't spiral," Nojiko cut in gently. "Kaya's got this. She wields Tsunade's template. If anyone can pull him back swiftly, it's her."
Nami nodded, slipping into command mode. "Right. Kaya stays; the rest of us return to deck and keep watch. If anything pops, we answer fast."
"I won't let anything happen to him," Kaya promised. "Please—give me space to work."
One by one they filed out. The door clicked shut, leaving only the steady slosh of tonic and the soft rasp of Arton's breath. Kaya placed both palms against his back; healing chakra poured from her into him, the medicine amplifying her work. Minutes stretched. Her chakra ran dry. Arton didn't stir.
Panic pricked. Kaya pressed her forehead to his shoulder. "Arton… please wake up. If you do—" her voice steadied, "—I'll accept what you asked of me before."
No blush this time, only sincerity. She drew in a long breath, unfastened the last of her reserve, and stepped into the barrel, gathering him into a careful embrace.
Warm tonic lapped around them as the bath shared its vigor; slowly, a fresh pulse of chakra bloomed in her core, and she sent it all into him—refusing to let go.
...
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