Chapter 5: The Guise of a Hero's Name
God Valley, Western Marine Evacuation Point.
The last rays of the setting sun spilled across the warship's deck. Marine soldiers scrambled to move the wounded, and the air was thick with the mixed stench of blood and sea salt.
"This battle... is finally over."
With a head of short, purple hair, a resolute face with chiseled features, and a burly, muscular frame that strained his standard-issue Marine sleeveless vest, Zephyr stood at the bow. The deep blue cloth stretched taut over his physique, and his pure white "Justice" cape billowed and snapped in the wind behind him. His thick arms were crossed over his chest.
"Vice Admiral Zephyr!" a Marine called out, handing him a list. "This is the roster of the Marines we lost in this operation."
Hearing this, Zephyr's brow furrowed. His gaze swept over the chaotic deck. The list in his hand was already mostly crossed out. The brutality of God Valley had far exceeded all expectations.
"Hmph. So be it. Prepare to weigh anchor and depart!"
"Sir!" The Marine snapped a salute, and was just about to relay the order...
Suddenly, a commotion broke out from the shore.
"Wait! There's still someone alive!" a Marine on lookout shouted, pointing at the coastline.
Every eye on the ship swiveled in that direction.
A lone figure was stumbling toward them. He was covered in blood, and he was carrying another person on his back. His Marine uniform was in tatters, but his spine was kept rigidly straight, as if by his last ounce of strength.
Zephyr, standing at the bow, felt his pupils constrict. "That's..."
Garon's steps were heavy. Each one left a deep imprint in the sand. His face was smeared with blood and grime, and his breathing was ragged, as if he could collapse at any second.
Derick's "corpse" was slumped limply over his back, arms dangling, swaying gently with every step.
The soldiers on the deck were stunned into silence, which was quickly broken by a wave of hushed whispers.
"He... he actually made it out of that hell?"
"The man on his back... is that Warrant Officer Derick from the West Blue branch? Oh god, I knew him..."
Ignoring the murmurs, Zephyr strode silently down the gangplank and came to a stop directly in front of Garon. His gaze was sharp as a blade, assessing the young soldier.
"What happened? Your name," Zephyr's voice was deep, laced with an authority that brooked no argument.
"Garon Reginald Sigma." Garon slowly lifted his head. When he saw Zephyr's face, he couldn't help but marvel internally. So this is Zephyr at his peak? This is the aura of a true powerhouse!
But thoughts were just thoughts. The show had to go on. After all, Zephyr himself was his objective.
Garon's eyes were clouded with "exhaustion," his lips were cracked and dry, and his voice was so hoarse it was barely a whisper. "Warrant Officer Derick... He was killed by a remnant of the Rocks pirates... by Whitebeard... while covering my escape."
Hearing this, Zephyr didn't show a hint of suspicion toward the Seaman Second Class. Instead, his frown deepened. "So, you were slowed down because you were carrying him?"
Garon was silent for a beat. He then dropped to one knee, bowing his head to hide the downward press of his lips as his voice choked with a "sob."
"I... I promised Derick... I would bring him home..."
Garon frantically dredged up all the genuine grievances and despair he had truly experienced during his years in this new world. That authentic, lived-in desperation allowed him to produce a heart-wrenching, soul-tearing wail.
In an instant, the deck fell silent. The only sound was the lapping of the waves against the ship's hull.
Zephyr glanced down at the roster in his hand. In a moment, he found Garon's and Derick's names. When he saw that Garon was merely a Seaman Second Class from a West Blue branch, he looked stunned.
"You're a Seaman Second Class... from West Blue?!"
"Yes, sir." Garon nodded. "I... I begged Warrant Officer Derick to bring me here. I told him a real man had to see a greater world and a real battlefield! But I... I never thought... If it wasn't for me...!"
Garon's words, Zephyr believed completely.
Because, for the convenience of collecting Garon's death benefit, the name in the "beneficiary" column was indeed Derick's. And for Derick, the name listed... was Garon.
Among Marines, only those who were as close as family would fill in each other's names in that column when heading into battle.
Zephyr stared at Garon for several seconds, then suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder. It was heavy as a mountain, but it carried a trace of warmth.
"Garon, you did the right thing," Zephyr's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "Marines never abandon their comrades."
Garon's shoulder "trembled" slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. He kept his head down, so no one could see the mockery in his eyes. "Yes, Vice Admiral."
The soldiers on deck, all fresh from the life-and-death struggle of God Valley, were visibly moved by the scene. Some even had to wipe their eyes. They began to murmur about Garon's "heroism," as if he were some tragic hero.
Soon, Derick's body was covered with a white sheet. A medic came forward to examine the corpse. The moment he opened Derick's uniform, his face changed dramatically.
"This... His internal organs are completely pulverized, but there are almost no external wounds!" He looked up at Zephyr, his voice trembling. "This kind of injury... it's as if he was attacked internally by some kind of vibration power."
At those words, Zephyr's gaze turned razor-sharp.
"Vibration power?"
"Yes, sir. It matches the characteristics of the Devil Fruit ability of Whitebeard, from the Rocks Pirates," the medic added in a low voice.
Zephyr was silent for a moment, his eyes landing on Garon once more.
Garon kept his head bowed, still seemingly lost in "grief."
"Hmph. One game for the World Nobles... and how many more of our young men did we lose? A son raised by his mother for twenty years... thrown in front of those monsters, he doesn't even last five seconds."
Zephyr slammed his fist heavily onto the ship's railing. He turned to his adjutant and ordered, "Record the battle losses. Prepare to return to base."
...
Night fell. The warship slowly pulled away from God Valley, its hull cutting through the pitch-black sea, leaving a silver wake in the moonlight.
Garon stood alone at the stern, staring into the dark water. The moonlight traced the cold, hard outline of his profile.
Crrk...
A faint cracking sound came from beneath his feet. The wooden planks of the deck were beginning to show a spiderweb of fine cracks, originating from his boots.
Garon stared at the out-of-control vibration particles, a cold sneer pulling at his lips. In the next second, the fine, air-splitting cracks vanished.
His objective had been achieved. But in this world, just having a Devil Fruit was far from enough.
He, Garon, with no system and no cheat, would have to plot every single move. He would start from this "triple-zero" (no fruit, no Haki, no talent) and, step by step, he would walk to the very apex.
The Devil Fruit was the first step. Next... was developing its power and mastering Haki!
Garon's fingers unconsciously rubbed the bandaged hilt of Eight Desolations, his mind racing.
Without a doubt, Zephyr was the best possible choice.
Among the Marine top brass of this era, Sengoku was consumed with his own promotion to Admiral. Garp was busy chasing Roger around the world.
Only Zephyr—soon to be promoted to Admiral for his "Black Arm" reputation, the future Head Instructor of the entire Marines—would have any interest in teaching a common soldier.
And, if his memory of the timeline was correct... after this God Valley incident, Zephyr would be promoted from Vice Admiral to a full-fledged Admiral.
His plan was set: return to West Blue, "reveal" his Devil Fruit ability, work hard, get promoted back to Marine HQ, and, by whatever means, get under Zephyr's tutelage. Leaving a good impression on Zephyr now, while he was posing as a loyal, grieving soldier, would only benefit him.
"Heh. 'Black Arm' Zephyr... his mastery of Armament Haki at this very moment is probably no weaker than Garp's."
Garon let out a soft laugh. He raised his hand, and a white orb of vibration particles condensed in his palm.
"So, 'Justice'..." He suddenly clenched his fist. The orb of light exploded between his fingers in a blinding white flash. "...is nothing more than this."
The waves churned, and the warship's shadow gradually vanished into the darkness.
...
[Author's Note: Zephyr died at age 74. The God Valley incident occurred 38 years ago (calculating from the current manga timeline). His birth year can be estimated as 36 years before the incident (74 - 38 = 36). Therefore, at the time of the God Valley incident, Zephyr was 36 years old. Zephyr was in the same class as Garp, Sengoku, and Tsuru. He joined the Marine Academy at 14, saw his first battle at 18, was promoted to HQ Petty Officer and mastered Rokushiki at 28, was nicknamed "Black Arm" for his mastery of Armament Haki at 34, and was officially promoted to Admiral at 38. At the time of the God Valley incident (age 36), he had not yet reached the rank of Admiral.]