"Huff… hah…"
Vice Admiral Garp panted, sweat running down his wrinkled face, a thin line of blood trailing from his brow. The final clash, that terrifying last strike, had grazed his scalp.
"So damn close…" he muttered, glancing toward the massive crater. There lay the unconscious figure of the young king.
"Age really is catching up… my strength hasn't waned, but my stamina… runs thinner by the year."
Bogard pressed down his cap, his eyes calm yet heavy.
Hina clutched her mouth in shock.
They were shaken to their core.
The strength Jin had shown was nothing less than astounding. At the beginning, he had been formidable enough—but the longer the fight dragged on, the more terrifying he became. His last blow? Against any other vice admiral, it might have felled them outright.
"Vice Admiral Garp!"
A rear admiral rushed over with a squad of Marines, faces pale.
"What happened here?"
"Are you alright?"
Garp burst into booming laughter, throwing his head back. "We're inside the base! What could possibly happen here?"
"But just now—"
"It's nothing. Just loosening up these old bones. Had a little spar with the young'un, that's all! Hahaha! And the old man still came out on top!"
The rear admiral stiffened, his mind catching up. The blast earlier… it had been caused by Jin? That kind of power… was this kid really a king, or a demon in disguise?
Garp brushed the dust from his coat of Justice and swung it over his shoulder. "Bogard, you'll take charge of training Hina. Teach her the full Rokushiki. And make her work on her Fruit—real development, not half-baked tricks."
Bogard nodded once. "Understood."
He was more than capable. He had trained Coby and Helmeppo in the presence of Garp, forging them from nothing.
"As for this brat…" Garp chuckled, eyeing Jin's battered figure in the crater. "He's mine. He'll need training far beyond the ordinary. Standard drills won't cut it."
With that, he leapt into the pit, hefted Jin onto his shoulder like a sack of rice, and barked to the rear admiral: "Prepare me a ship. We're heading into the Calm Belt."
"What?! The Calm Belt?" The officer's face drained of color. "Vice Admiral… you don't mean that place, do you? Wait, he's a king—an allied nation's king. If he dies—"
But Garp only roared with laughter. "What he lacks is relentless battle. Real life-and-death tempering. Only that will forge him into steel. A raw gem like this must be polished properly!"
Hina's heart sank at his words. "What… what place are you taking him to?"
The rear admiral's lips trembled. "An island within the Calm Belt… the nesting ground of super Sea Kings!"
…
The Bird Kingdom.
Elsewhere, beneath a heavy cloak, Bartholomew Kuma strode through the streets with little Jewelry Bonney perched on his massive shoulder. He had left Sorbet Kingdom behind, bringing the girl with him to this land under the guise of "travel."
But the truth was different. He sought doctors—anyone who could cure her illness.
Yet the disease, Sapphire Scale, was so rare that most physicians had never even heard of it, much less treated it.
Kuma's heart weighed heavy with worry.
Bonney, on the other hand, was carefree. Childlike joy lit her face as she stuffed her cheeks with local delicacies, oblivious to the shadow clouding her guardian's mind.
Suddenly, a gust of wind whipped down the street. A newspaper fluttered through the air, landing at Kuma's feet. He moved to swat it aside—then froze.
An article on the front page caught his eye.
…
Drum Kingdom.
"Doctor! Is this true? The king's order—to research Sapphire Scale… is it really incurable?"
Chopper worked furiously at grinding herbs, flipping through thick medical tomes. His eyes darted anxiously toward Dr. Kureha, who busied herself with bottles and jars.
"In theory, yes," the old doctor said flatly.
"It's a hereditary disease, passed from mother to child. When the patient is exposed to sunlight, their skin hardens into blue-scaled patches… eventually, it kills them."
At over a hundred years old, Kureha had seen much. She had traveled the seas in her youth. She had even studied cases like this before.
"Then… how can it be cured?" Chopper pressed desperately.
Kureha's lips twisted into a thin smile. "Hereditary diseases cannot be cured. Unless…"
"Unless what?!"
"Ancient texts mention a treatment—a full blood replacement, combined with organ transplantation."
…
Aska Island.
The gentle climate proved ideal. The mushrooms flourished, their quality superb. Harvest season had come.
The G-3 base had already placed their order, right on schedule.
With money flowing in, Ilensa and her tribe smiled with unrestrained joy.
No more curse weighing on them.
A future to work toward.
Who wouldn't laugh?
…
Hannabal.
From the gangplank of a ship, a young man stepped down. His stylish attire—black work trousers, polished boots, a high-collared jacket—marked him sharply against the bustling town.
His name was Shuraiya Bascúd.
Hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze was clouded with melancholy.
"Gasparde… is he really dead?"
Four years ago, Gasparde had attacked his home. His family. His friends. All slaughtered. His life had been consumed by vengeance ever since.
He became a bounty hunter, driven by that singular goal.
But recently, during a hunt, he had heard it—Gasparde was dead.
The man who had been his only reason to keep breathing, gone?
What? Impossible.
That monster had to die by his own hands, or else it meant nothing.
His mind cracked beneath the weight of it.
He had to know the truth. He followed whispers, tracked rumors, until at last he boarded a pirate ship bound for Hannabal. Here, he would uncover it for himself.
…
Three months passed in the blink of an eye.
At G-3, another day of training ended. Hina lingered near the docks, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Garp had taken Jin into the Calm Belt… and he still had not returned.
Worry gnawed at her.
And she could not deny it—day by day, training together, her feelings for Jin had deepened. What she felt now was no longer simple admiration. It was something she couldn't name—whether longing or fear—but it haunted her, every hour.
…
As the sun sank into the sea, painting the horizon crimson, a shadow appeared.
Something vast rose from the surface, gliding toward the light.
A ship. A silhouette.
A sail caught in the dying glow of dusk.
…
Marineford, Headquarters.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku! A call from G-3 Base. Vice Admiral Garp has returned."
"What? Garp?!" Sengoku's face darkened. "That old fool still remembers how to come back? And what of the king of Drum Kingdom?"
Ever since the G-3 rear admiral reported that Garp had taken the young king away, Sengoku's heart had been unsettled, his gut twisted with unease.
Training was training. Fine. But why serious training? Did Garp not understand? If that king suffered an accident… how would Sengoku answer to the World Government?
The longer Garp stayed silent, the heavier the dread grew.
When news finally came, Sengoku snatched the receiver. The moment he heard Garp's voice, the floodgates opened.
He unleashed a tirade.
"You damned old fool! No respect for your age, no respect for your post! Always slacking, always running off to the East Blue to play! The petty pirates of the East Blue must be tired of seeing your mug! And now this—you vanish for three whole months without a word? I thought you'd defected in shame!"
Click.
Garp hung up.
Picking his nose, he grumbled, "Hmph. Learn to speak properly before calling me again."
Sengoku's face was darker than soot. Yet strangely, the scolding had vented some of his frustration. He took a breath, dialed again.
"The king of Drum Kingdom?"
"Gone," Garp said simply.
"Gone? Don't tell me you dumped the body! Covered it up?!"
Garp's voice sharpened. "I may hate dealing with nobles, but I'm not the kind to slaughter them at random. If you don't believe me, call him yourself."
At that, Sengoku's heart finally eased. His tone softened. "So you truly trained him?"
"Mm. The old man gave him the basics. The rest… he'll have to carve out on his own."
"And how was he?" Sengoku asked.
Garp's lips stretched into a rare, solemn grin.
"A monster."
He lowered his voice, eyes glinting. "Do you still remember Rocks? This boy carries potential no less than his."