"Record: senior of the Rocks Pirates…"
Sprawled on the deck of his personal ship, a tall young man lay back in a lounge chair with pen and paper in hand. It was an old habit of his. Whenever boredom struck, he wrote his life down. In this world, that habit had a proper name.
A logbook.
Some entries read:
Pirate record: crewman of the Pirate King, great pirate, senior of the Rocks Pirates.
Marine record: elite instructor for the Navy officer training camp.
Celestial Dragon record: auxiliary member of the Divine Knights.
Underworld record: cleared.
"Gick, you do not have to get that worked up…"
Ozz rubbed his brow. The old man's way of worshipping "monsters" was clearly etched into the bones. Even here in the past, before either of them had raised the other, a little display of strength and Gick's fan-heart flared to life.
Back when Ozz was a child, once the old man noticed his natural Observation Haki and freakish strength, he pinned his own monster dream on the boy. He kept Ozz well fed and taught him the rudiments of both Haki colors from an early age. Ozz's Observation blossomed fast, and after boarding Roger's ship he flew through the rest. Talent helped, but that foundation mattered too.
Now, having returned to a younger era and meeting Gick in his prime, Ozz needed only to show a glimpse of true strength to win over this lifelong worshipper of monsters.
Lately, though, his sudden appearance on the open sea and his unprecedented promotion within the Rocks Pirates had stirred doubts. A stranger waltzes in and becomes a captain among the top brass? Many questioned his power.
Gick, Ozz's most ardent defender, was not having it. He stormed over, waving a newspaper and cursing under his breath.
"This I cannot tolerate, Captain Ozz."
He slapped the paper down. "Look at this. They are saying you are a lightweight, a decoy Rocks tossed out to mislead the world."
His face was flushed. Someone belittled Ozz, and he was angrier than Ozz himself. As for why, he could not say. He just felt close to Ozz. The bond felt right.
"All right, all right, I hear you. Next time we run into someone big, I will go all out."
Ozz could only indulge him. Even in the original timeline, whenever Ozz shook the seas, the news gulls somehow delivered the paper to Dullarmos Island first so the old man could brag.
"The king who holds this sea down?"
"Oh. You mean my good grandson."
To Ozz's face he was always a grumpy old coot. To outsiders he turned Ozz into gold. He did not allow anyone to slander him. By the time Ozz grew up, few dared anyway.
Now, back in the past and growing close as friends, Gick was the same. He guarded Ozz's title of monster like a creed. In his heart, becoming a monster was not just a goal. It was a value. A name to inspire awe and fear.
Ozz let the rant pass and shifted the topic.
"By the way, how is that flowing Armament I said I would teach you?"
He gave Gick a teacher's look. He knew he could not remain in this time forever, and who knew what butterflies would flap. Better to leave the old man with real strength.
Sweat beaded on Gick's forehead. His eyes darted. "I tried. It will not move. The Armament sticks to my skin like glue."
Ozz's mouth twitched. After all this time, still no progress. Was flowing Armament really so hard? At thirteen or fourteen he had learned it by playing around. No wonder Gick always muttered that he never had the conditions Ozz enjoyed back then.
If Gick had learned both colors, it must have cost him a mountain of pain, and still his talent capped him at basic coating. His swordplay had never stepped into the realm of a true swordsman.
If it were not awkward to do here, Ozz would have run him through the full regimen he used in the Navy training camp.
"Forget it for now."
…
"Dotor Ozz? Never heard the name."
Beside a swimming pool, a young man with a long scar at the corner of his eye lounged as beauties splashed and laughed around him. He was on vacation, thoroughly slacking off.
He skimmed the report his adjutant handed over. The sketch showed an unfamiliar face. Garp barely paid attention at first.
Until the adjutant relayed the World Government's latest confidential note:
A newly emerged monster at sea, suspected to be Gol D. Roger's brother. Threat level: extremely high.
Garp shed his laziness in an instant. He sprang to his feet and snatched the paper, memorizing that absurdly young face as if he could carve it into his mind.
"That bastard Roger has a brother? And he joined the Rocks Pirates?"
"Fine. Decision made."
Under the stunned looks of the sailors, Vice Admiral Garp, famous for acting first and thinking later, made up his mind.
"I will be the one to arrest him."
In the days that followed, an obscure name finally rang across the seas. Ozz crossed swords with Rocks' top men and earned both their respect and their caution. With it came real authority to move a portion of the Rocks fleet.
And he went hunting. He accepted every challenge, dragging each doubter into the pit of despair one by one.
Clang.
The crisp ring of steel echoed as a rising swordsman of the New World, wielding a black blade, came at Ozz. He had come to make his name by cutting down a captain of Rocks.
He had arrived smiling with a champion's poise.
Now disbelief drenched his face. Sweat rolled in heavy beads. His will crumbled. The world as he knew it cracked as the man before him pinched his strongest slash between two lazy fingers.
The last thing he heard was a flat voice.
"Is this a circus act?"
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