After what felt like an eternity, a tall figure finally emerged from the dust and rubble.
Smoker looked disheveled. Two cigars still hung from his mouth as he coughed and walked out of the ruins.
He looked at Logan and couldn't help but curse with a laugh.
"Good kid… hiding this deep, huh?"
There was surprise in his voice.
There was delight.
But not the slightest trace of humiliation from defeat.
Logan looked at Smoker's current state and felt a bit helpless.
You've practically been blasted apart—can you at least put the cigars down?
Showing off all day… what's the point?
"Just luck," Logan said with a smile.
He stood there calmly, chatting as if nothing had happened, completely ignoring the shocked expressions around him.
Garp's eyes were wide open, his jaw hanging as if it might drop to the ground.
Beyond the shock at Logan's strength, another memory surfaced in Garp's mind—
a question Logan had asked him long ago.
Grandpa… if one day Luffy or Ace are captured by the Marines… will you save them?
Save them… or not?
Back then, Garp hadn't given it much thought. A few days later, he'd already forgotten about it.
"Look at my grandson, Sengoku!" Garp burst into laughter, slapping Sengoku on the shoulder.
"Impressive, right? Doesn't he have the makings of an Admiral?"
Sengoku didn't look at Logan.
Instead, he lowered his gaze to examine the ground that had been torn apart by sword qi, then said softly:
"This child… has the potential of an Admiral."
Garp's laughter grew even louder.
With his own terrifying strength, Garp could clearly see just how domineering that Armament Haki–infused slash had been.
"Well then," Garp continued cheerfully, "my grandson defeated Colonel Smoker. Shouldn't he at least be promoted to Colonel too?"
"If he's only made a Major, wouldn't that be a bit stingy?"
Sengoku pondered for a moment.
"Logan does possess the strength of a Colonel. However, the Marines are an organization that values seniority and merit."
"Rules exist for a reason. Once he captures a few pirates of real significance, promoting him to Colonel won't be too late."
Garp smiled and nodded, saying nothing more.
That was exactly the answer he wanted.
After Logan revealed his Armament Haki, every Marine who had once thought him foolish now looked at him with blazing respect.
No one called him an idiot anymore.
If he was a fool, then what were they—those who had stood by for years laughing at him?
In this world, strength reigned supreme.
Whether pirates or Marines, people respected the strong. Only power earned recognition.
Some had already begun whispering to each other—
Should we start tomorrow too, practicing only two moves every day like Logan?
Logan walked slowly up to Sengoku.
"Fleet Admiral, does that mean I'm officially a Major now?"
"Of course," Sengoku replied, his voice loud and clear for all to hear.
"Your strength is more than sufficient for an outstanding Marine Major. I look forward to your future performance."
Tashigi's face lit up with joy, her hand unconsciously tightening around the hilt of Shigure.
From this day forward, Logan was no longer the fool everyone mocked.
He was destined to become the most dazzling star on this sea.
Yet in the very next moment, a trace of sadness surfaced in her heart.
Once Logan became a Major…
it truly meant the time had come for him to leave.
She knew better than anyone—Logan was someone who always did exactly what he said.
Looks like… I need to work harder too.
After a long silence, thunderous cheers finally erupted from the crowd.
The low-ranking Marines felt as though a brand-new road had appeared before them, a ray of hope shining on every one of them.
Logan—someone who practiced only two sword techniques for ten straight years—had succeeded.
So why couldn't they?
From this day on, Logan became a legend among ordinary Marines.
On the training ground, Garp approached Logan with a solemn expression, holding a neatly folded white Justice cloak in both hands.
Logan accepted it—but did not put it on.
Instead, he grabbed the collar, flicked his wrist, and the white cloak billowed in the wind, the bold black word JUSTICE fully revealed.
He stared at those two characters in silence.
Justice?
What is justice, really?
Does wearing justice make someone just?
Are the ragged beggars on the street evil simply because they're weak?
Logan took a deep breath.
With a powerful upward swing of his arm, he hurled the cloak into the air.
"I'm leaving the Marines!"
Instantly, the crowd exploded in uproar.
Many wondered if they'd heard him wrong.
"What's he thinking? With his strength, his future in the Marines would be limitless!"
"Exactly! I don't understand him at all!"
Sengoku remained calm, no anger in his expression. His voice was gentle, like that of an elder addressing a junior.
"Can you tell me why?"
"Everyone has their own path," Logan said, meeting Sengoku's gaze.
Sengoku said nothing more.
After giving Garp a deep look, he turned and left.
Though Sengoku hadn't done anything, Logan could still feel a tangible pressure bearing down on him, his breathing turning slightly labored.
"Come with me," Garp said quietly, turning away.
Logan followed.
He knew the old man was genuinely angry—but there was no other choice.
He had to leave Marine Headquarters.
As they departed, the crowd gradually dispersed, though the discussions never stopped.
Garp's courtyard.
Creak.
The wooden door slowly opened.
The two entered one after the other.
Along the way, the normally jovial, joke-loving Garp hadn't said a single word.
Logan felt a bit uneasy—but no regret.
Some things simply had to be done.
Inside the courtyard, stacked stones formed a pond. A small waterfall hung from the eaves.
Logan followed Garp inside.
The moment his back foot stepped onto the stone stairs—
A violent gust of wind erupted behind him.
Bang!
The wooden door slammed shut.
The once-calm surface of the pond instantly boiled and churned violently.
Garp turned around, his aura surging.
"Logan."
"Tell me the real reason."
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