"Wow, this is amazing, Aunt Belle-Mère! Is today some kind of festival?"
Nojiko's eyes went wide, sparkling like little stars.
Such a feast could only be found on holidays.
But the truth was, the weather had been wonderful today, and the harvest of oranges bountiful. Since oranges were hard to sell in bulk and spoiled quickly, they usually didn't bring in much money.
"Yes—today we actually earned a bit. A gentleman bought a huge batch of oranges."
Belle-Mère turned back from her cooking, her face alight with joy.
"Really?"
Nami, astonished, skipped over to Belle-Mère's side, watching as she fried two fresh fish.
"Go on, set the table. We have a guest tonight."
Belle-Mère's eyes curved into a smile as she spoke.
Before long, Genzo arrived, as usual carrying a few small gifts and some food.
The four of them sat together and shared a lively meal.
But the most amusing part came afterward—when Belle-Mère teasingly suggested Genzo stay the night, he bolted in a flustered retreat. The sight of his panicked back sent Belle-Mère and the two girls into peals of laughter, hands on their hips, rocking with mirth.
Out at sea near Cocoyasi Village, a small sailboat drifted freely. Lying on its deck, Don spread his Observation Haki across the village, quietly "watching" the scene unfolding in Belle-Mère's home.
"Atonement, is it?"
He whispered softly, then shut his eyes, letting the boat drift with the current.
At Base No. 16, a massive battleship with a dog's head figurehead had just docked.
Captain Nezumi, the base commander, stood at the pier with every Marine soldier lined up in anticipation.
The moment Vice Admiral Garp stepped off the ship—finger in his nose—the formation snapped to attention.
"Vice Admiral Garp!"
The soldiers roared in unison.
"Ahahaha! Sorry for the trouble, but this old man came here on a bit of business."
Garp bellowed with laughter as he spoke.
"Yes, Vice Admiral Garp, please—this way!"
Captain Nezumi was unusually respectful. At this point in time, he had yet to begin his infamous corruption in Cocoyasi, and perhaps still carried a trace of a guilty conscience.
"Bogard!"
Garp turned and barked an order.
"Yes, Vice Admiral!"
Bogard stood at attention aboard the ship.
Garp nodded, then strode toward the base headquarters.
Nezumi glanced uneasily at the Marines still on the warship, puzzled why they hadn't disembarked, but he dared not ask. He simply hurried after Garp.
Soon, in the reception room, Garp sat heavily on the sofa, his sharp gaze fixed on Nezumi.
Under that gaze, Nezumi's nerves frayed.
"He's not here?"
"No, Vice Admiral. But he left not long ago. He took a small boat—he shouldn't be too far. I imagine he'll be back before long."
Nezumi knew Garp was asking about Don. He had already investigated thoroughly, so his answer came quickly.
"Then do you know where he went, or what he intends to do?"
Garp asked again.
"This… Vice Admiral Garp," Nezumi hesitated, "he calls himself a bounty hunter. He recently brought in two pirates. I assume he went out again to capture more and claim the rewards. I had invited him before, but he… he said…"
His voice trailed off, unwilling to finish.
"It involves the Celestial Dragons, doesn't it?"
Garp's expression didn't change—he had already guessed the reason for Nezumi's hesitation.
"Y-yes, Vice Admiral," Nezumi admitted, shocked at how easily Garp saw through it.
So it was true.
Garp sighed, weariness creeping into his face.
He never had much hope of success with such invitations. Forcing someone into the Marines would only breed resentment—and in Don's case, might make him loathe the institution even more.
"Vice Admiral Garp, shall I send men out to sea to search for him?"
Nezumi asked cautiously after a pause.
"No need. The sea is vast—how would you even find him? And even if you did, you couldn't drag him back. He's a bounty hunter. If he's chasing pirates, he'll want to cash in his bounty first."
With that, Garp rose to his feet.
"I'll be staying in the East Blue for a while. The battleship will remain here. I have business elsewhere, so if he returns to turn in a bounty, inform me."
Without another word, Garp walked out, leaving Nezumi in stunned silence.
So Vice Admiral Garp… wasn't nearly as invested as Nezumi thought. He seemed almost indifferent to the Celestial Dragons themselves.
But Nezumi dared not dwell on it. After all, Garp wasn't just a Vice Admiral—he was the Navy's Hero, the man who had once cornered the Pirate King with his own hands.
Surely, such a man had his own reasons.
Yet in truth, Garp had no hidden plan. Back aboard the battleship, he simply launched a small boat with a helmsman and rowed away.
And his destination?
Naturally, Windmill Village—to visit his "obedient" grandson.
Of course… perhaps not so obedient.
Don knew nothing of this. He could, however, guess that his movements might eventually be reported upward.
Not that he cared. He continued about his business.
Unrolling a bounty poster, he studied it once more before lifting his eyes to the pirate ship charging toward him.
The twisted skull-and-crossbones on its flag matched perfectly with the one depicted on the poster.
"Mad Dog Torf. Bounty: 2.2 million."
Don sighed, raising his blade. A single slash cleaved through the sea itself, splitting into the approaching ship.
Crack!
The strike tore half the vessel apart. Water poured in, and the ship broke into pieces.
Pirates tumbled into the waves, thrashing wildly.
Swish, swish!
A dozen more slashes followed, shredding the remains of the pirate ship into driftwood.
"Still so far from Mihawk…"
Sliding his blade back into its sheath, Don exhaled.
He had only just stepped into the rank of swordsman. His slashes owed more to his monstrous physique and Haki than to true swordsmanship. Unlike Mihawk, he couldn't yet casually split the sea with a single stroke.
Still, repeated strikes were enough to sink a modest wooden ship.
Among the floundering survivors, some clung to wreckage, some struggled aimlessly, and others swam toward Don's little boat.
At their head was their captain—Mad Dog Torf.
This vicious pirate, known for biting and butchering, clawed his way aboard Don's vessel. With one hand gripping the rail, he dragged up a massive saw from his back, his glare full of murder.
This fool… did he not realize Don had destroyed his ship with a single swing?
"Bastard!"
Snarling, Torf hefted his saw, eyes blazing with rage.
Don frowned.
This pirate… wasn't he afraid of death?
(to be continued…)
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