Chapter 57: Angry Garling

On the way back, Garling asked,

"Carl, how long are you planning to stay in Mary Geoise this time?"

Carl thought for a moment and said,

"If Uncle Garling has nothing else for me to do, I might leave tomorrow."

"You brat, you just want to take what you need and leave, don't you?"

"Aw, Uncle Garling, are you reluctant to let me go?"

The sword at Garling's waist gleamed with a cold light as its blade slightly unsheathed. Carl, unbothered, put his hands behind his head and turned to Lucia, saying,

"Lucia, you're coming with me."

A look of surprise appeared on Lucia's face. She had been feeling uneasy since Carl mentioned leaving, but upon hearing his words, she breathed a sigh of relief. She nodded vigorously and said,

"As long as the young master is willing, Lucia will follow you anywhere!"

Carl smiled slightly, ignoring Garling's darkening expression, and continued,

"Uncle Garling, I need the World Government to fabricate a proper identity for Lucia. I want her to enter Marine School."

Garling almost laughed out of anger and said,

"Are you going there to train or to enjoy yourself? What's next? Do you want me to arrange for her to live in the same dormitory as you?"

"That won't be necessary. I don't stay in a single dormitory, so it would be inconvenient for Lucia to live with me."

A large tic-tac-toe vein bulged on Garling's forehead. He turned away and said calmly,

"I don't care. Figure it out yourself."

"No, Uncle Garling, not many people in the World Government know about me, so my words don't carry as much weight as yours."

"Have you forgotten about Spandam? I've promoted him to the commander of CP9. From now on, you can give him direct orders for things like this."

"Haha, I see! It must be Uncle Garling looking out for me. I feel comfortable dealing with that guy."

Garling stopped, squinted at Carl, and said,

"Don't get too happy just yet. You can go back, but first, you need to practice your swordsmanship here. At the very least, you need to learn how to fight properly instead of just swinging Muramasa around wildly!"

Carl had no objections. Strength was the most important thing, no matter what. However, in his opinion, the swordsmanship in One Piece was mostly just flashy slashes, spinning attacks, and flying strikes.

Back home, as night fell, Garling took Carl straight to the dining hall for dinner.

At the center of the hall was a huge rectangular dining table adorned with several golden candlesticks, giving it an extravagant look.

Garling sat at the head of the table, picking up a newspaper prepared by the servants. Carl sat to his left while Lucia went out to instruct the staff to prepare their meal.

Looking at the nearly empty dining hall, Carl asked,

"Uncle Garling, do you usually eat here alone?"

Without looking up from his newspaper, Garling replied,

"Yes. You don't have to worry about it. Ever since I became the leader of the Knights of God, Darian has refused to have dinner with me. He won't be coming."

"Then where is he now? He must know that I'm back."

"He spends all his time locked away in the science division, researching something or other."

Garling sighed before continuing,

"In the end, those are nothing but crooked paths. I haven't seen him step into the training hall in years."

"Hmph, maybe he trains in secret. Or maybe he's focused on improving his Devil Fruit abilities."

As soon as Darian was mentioned, the atmosphere grew heavy. Garling closed the newspaper, looked at Carl seriously, and asked,

"Carl, do you really want to kill him? He is your father, after all."

Carl's expression darkened. He met Garling's gaze and replied firmly,

"I don't have a father like him. And he has never treated me like a son. To him, I'm just a tool for power. In the end, only one of us will survive."

Garling frowned. "A tool for power? What do you mean?"

"It seems you don't know, Uncle Garling. He put so much effort into experimenting on me—what do you think he was trying to achieve?"

"Isn't it obvious? He wanted you to surpass me and reclaim the position of head of the family on his behalf. Honestly, he's overthinking it. I was already planning to pass the title to you; I had no intention of keeping it for myself."

A dark tornado of energy erupted from Carl's back. His face remained expressionless as he said,

"Uncle Garling, you're thinking too simply! He wasn't training me to be his successor. He was creating a perfect vessel for himself. He plans to transfer his consciousness into my body. From the very beginning, his only goal was to kill me."

"What did you say!?"

Garling abruptly stood up, rage pouring from his eyes. He truly had no idea. If he had known earlier, he would have dealt with Darian long ago, regardless of any consequences.

Carl wasn't as calm as he appeared either. He forced himself to suppress his emotions, and the darkness behind him slowly receded into his body. He continued,

"If I'm not mistaken, Darian's current research must involve body-swapping techniques. The Op-Op Fruit hasn't appeared yet, and he's running out of patience."

Garling remained silent for a long time, his expression unreadable.

He didn't doubt Carl's words. There was no reason for Carl to lie about something like this.

Garling had once been forced to kill his own father with his own hands. That act left a permanent scar on him. Just moments ago, he had considered persuading Carl to spare Darian, to avoid repeating his own tragic past.

But now, he completely abandoned that idea.

To Garling, Darian's actions were nothing short of inhuman. He wasn't worthy of being a father at all!

At that moment, Garling was completely disillusioned with his brother. A part of him wanted to march over to the science division immediately and beat Darian to a pulp.

However, he stopped himself. He wouldn't kill Darian—because he knew that this was something Carl needed to do himself.

The room fell into silence, with uncle and nephew locked in their own thoughts.

Then, Lucia's voice called out from the doorway, breaking the tension.

"Young Master, the food is ready. Should I have them bring it up now?"

Hearing her voice, Carl finally calmed down. He took a deep breath, relaxed his expression, and responded,

"Lucia, have them serve the food. Thanks for your hard work."

Lucia trotted over, glancing curiously at Garling, whose expression was still grim. Then, she gently wrapped a white napkin around Carl and said,

"Young Master, this is my duty. Please allow me to serve you during dinner."