Chapter 21: Warship Sandbags and Admiral-Level Suppression
Ian quickly rushed to the edge of the sand pit, his face a mask of feigned panic. "Vice Admiral Garp! Are you alright? Why didn't you dodge? I'm so sorry, it's all my fault for being too reckless!"
In the pit, Garp pushed himself up into a sitting position, one hand clamped firmly over his jaw, the other gripping Ian's shoulder for support. When he finally moved his hand, a spectacularly swollen, purpling chin was revealed.
Hiss! Garp sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. "You good-for-nothing brat! I bet you're laughing on the inside, aren't you? Truly a 'fine' disciple of mine, attacking your master without a word of warning! You did use your fruit's power, didn't you? Tricking me with a feint, hitting me on purpose with your own strength... You must be feeling pretty pleased with yourself!" A devilish, bloodthirsty glint ignited in his eyes. "For the next training session, we're revising the rules... Haki is permitted. Hehehe..."
Ian: "..."
The bullying couldn't be more blatant. Getting punched once and immediately wanting to bring out the big guns?
Trying to claim it was an accident would be futile now. Fortunately, he was saved from having to formulate a response by the arrival of the three observers.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A slow, deliberate round of applause sounded from behind them. Sengoku, Tsuru, and Momousagi walked onto the training ground proper.
"Garp," Sengoku began, his face a masterpiece of feigned solemnity, "you are truly commendable. Even at your advanced age, you still lead by example, personally guiding your apprentice. Don't worry, the medical expenses for the injuries Ian inflicted will be fully covered by Headquarters. You can rest and recover without any concerns!"
Pfft— Sengoku's mustache twitched violently as he finally lost the battle to maintain his stern expression.
Garp shot to his feet, his body seeming to radiate a villainous black aura. "You old fool! You came at the perfect time to see the show, didn't you?! If I can't handle the young one, beating up the old one won't be a problem!"
Sengoku and Tsuru completely ignored his outburst, smoothly taking up positions on his left and right.
"Gion," Tsuru said calmly, "get a clearer shot. This is a rare commemorative photo; we should be more formal."
"Understood."
"Hey! Wait! Gion... put that Den Den Mushi down!" Garp struggled, but it was too late. They had him cornered.
"Three... two... one... Smile!"
Click!
A truly special photo of the three veterans was permanently captured. At the last second of the countdown, both Sengoku and Tsuru had raised a hand to thoughtfully stroke their chins, ensuring the focal point of the memory would be perfectly preserved.
Ian watched the antics of the Headquarters' top brass from the sidelines. Three old men with a combined age of over two centuries, yet they still possessed this youthful, mischievous energy. He couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
I really would have liked to see them in their youth. It must have been even more... interesting.
Three Days Later
Navy Headquarters, Offshore Shipyard
The air was thick with the smell of salt and rust. Decommissioned warships lay silent in the scrapyard, like great steel leviathans forgotten by time.
"Warship... sandbags?!" Nami, standing beside Ian, was the first to vocalize her shock at Garp's pronouncement. "So... those terrible dents on these two warships are...?"
Ian, in contrast, remained perfectly calm, as if he had expected this all along.
Ever since he had sent Garp flying three days ago, Ian had carefully paced his "learning" of the remaining five Rokushiki techniques. He had "mastered" them all within three days—a pace fast enough to be considered monstrous, but slow enough to be vaguely plausible, especially if attributed to his fruit's unique enhancement of the human body.
With the Six Powers "acquired," the next step in his training was the deeper application of Haki, which required time and real pressure to refine. And the place Garp most wanted to take him for that was this very shipyard.
"Ian," Garp warned, his tone sharp and serious, "don't think you can afford to be complacent just because you learn quickly! Starting today, your real training begins."
Ian was a genius beyond Garp's initial expectations. The decision to personally mentor him now felt less like a chore and more like a critical duty. The future of the Navy's new generation stood before him, and Garp would not allow that potential to be squandered by arrogance.
"Ah la la... Mr. Garp, you're up half an hour earlier than usual. Arriving before your disciple... you must really be taking this new student seriously. It's enough to hurt the feelings of your first one, you know?"
A lazy, drawling voice echoed from among the skeletal hulls of the derelict warships.
Everyone turned to look. A tall, lanky man in a simple white training suit slowly emerged into view.
"Admiral... Kuzan!" Nami gasped. "First disciple? So Admiral Aokiji is... Vice Admiral Garp's first disciple?!"
The revelation sent Nami's mind reeling. So one of the three mighty Admirals had once been where Ian stood now. Her thoughts began to spiral into a fantastical, if utterly flawed, logical chain: Admiral Aokiji was Garp's apprentice. Garp is greater than an Admiral. Brigadier General Ian knocked Garp flying. Therefore, Ian is greater than Garp. Conclusion: Ian > Admiral!
She turned to look at Ian, her eyes shimmering with newfound stars. Brigadier General Ian... is so strong!
Ian, catching her expression, was utterly baffled. "???"
"Hey, Kuzan! Perfect timing," Garp barked, not missing a beat. "Show your junior here how it's done. We've been practicing here for decades, day in and day out. The routine hasn't changed."
Garp had intended to demonstrate himself, but with Kuzan's arrival, he delegated the task instantly. The only men at Headquarters who could order an Admiral around so casually were Fleet Admiral Sengoku... and Vice Admiral Garp.
Ian understood the dynamic perfectly. When Garp was in his prime, a powerhouse with strength rivaling an Admiral's, Kuzan had been a raw recruit. That Kuzan had reached the heights he had was due, in no small part, to the foundation Garp had beaten into him.
Not that it seemed to matter much to the old hero now.
End of Chapter