On the first day of the Sea Circle Calendar in 1493, Sengoku was absolutely furious.
"What the hell is going on!?"
"All of the ammunition stockpiled in the abandoned port on D1 has been taken!?"
In the Admiral's office, Sengoku exploded in rage, shouting so fiercely that he sprayed the messenger who had come to report with saliva.
He was beyond livid.
Ever since the "defection" of Dragon, the Marine Headquarters had suffered a major budget cut from the World Government.
On top of that, having to erase all traces of Dragon's identity as a Marine—and dealing with the political fallout the incident caused—had left Sengoku, an Admiral, buried in headaches.
The promotion to Fleet Admiral, which had practically been set in stone, was now gone. And instead of getting any sympathy, Sengoku had to grit his teeth and comfort that bastard Garp.
But who was going to comfort him—the Admiral who had endured so much humiliation and frustration?
D1 Port may have long been abandoned, and sure, its stockpile wasn't that large anymore… but given the current circumstances, even the smallest resource was precious.
So the moment this happened, Sengoku snapped.
"Admiral Sengoku... after our investigation, we discovered the ammunition wasn't moved—it was detonated."
The messenger, watching Sengoku's expression carefully, lowered his voice.
"Detonated?"
Sengoku raised an eyebrow.
The young messenger could hear the fire barely suppressed in Sengoku's tone and stammered,
"Someone spotted it from a distance last night… there was a massive fireworks display in the direction of Port D1."
"Quite a few civilians thought it was part of a New Year's celebration organized by headquarters…"
Sengoku clenched his teeth.
The veins on his forehead were bulging so intensely that the messenger felt like they might burst at any moment.
Not daring to delay another second, he quickly added,
"This morning, a soldier came to report that Commodore Rogers Daren admitted to using the ammunition from Port D1."
"Daren?"
Sengoku froze—then exploded again.
"Has that damn brat lost his mind!?"
"He used perfectly good ammunition… for fireworks!?"
"Does he think this is the North Blue!?"
"Hey… what's that in your hand?"
Sengoku suddenly paused, narrowing his eyes at the trembling messenger, who shakily held out an envelope.
The envelope was already opened.
Inside was a check.
There were a number of banks operating across the sea, but this particular check was a promissory note from a bank under the World Government.
"Commodore Daren said he used the ammunition to please his lover. He's willing to cover all the costs and deeply apologizes for the inconvenience caused."
The messenger presented the envelope with both hands and bowed deeply.
Staring at the long string of zeros on the check, Sengoku opened his mouth… but said nothing. He silently accepted it.
Somehow, he didn't feel quite as angry anymore.
After a few moments of silence,
He coughed lightly and spoke in a calm, composed tone,
"Well, I'll let it slide this time. A lover is important, after all."
"Go tell that brat not to stir up such a commotion next time."
"Yes, Admiral Sengoku."
The messenger didn't dare look up, afraid he'd catch a glimpse of something he shouldn't.
"Oh, right. That kid Daren—he's supposed to be back at the training camp today, isn't he?"
Sengoku tucked the check away and casually asked.
The messenger answered respectfully,
"Not yet, sir. I heard that Vice Admiral Garp sent someone to summon Commodore Daren early this morning."
Garp...
Sengoku thought for a moment, then waved his hand.
"Alright, you can go now."
The messenger bowed again, gave the wad of cash in his pocket a subtle pat, and hurried out of the office like he was fleeing for his life.
As the office door shut behind him, Sengoku stood there in silence for a moment, then pulled the check out once more.
He suddenly cursed out loud,
"That damn brat really went all out… two hundred million Belly just for a damn fireworks show!"
...
Daren was panicking.
Standing in the abandoned port where last night's "fireworks" had gone off, he faced Garp—who wore a stormy expression, exuding a murderous aura—and felt a tidal wave of pressure crash over him...
Inside, he was a complete mess.
His mind spun rapidly.
Was it because he went too far with his performance and now this old man was mad about him roughing up Dragon?
Or had his relationship with Gion finally been exposed, and Garp, feeling like his precious cabbage had been eaten by pigs, come to take it out on him?
While Daren's thoughts were spiraling, Garp, still wearing that signature dog-head cap, suddenly began walking toward him in silence.
Heavy footsteps.
Clenched fists.
That rising, crushing aura...
Daren's throat bobbed involuntarily.
"Um... Vice Admiral Garp, why did you call me here?"
"I didn't do anything... Every move I made was on Admiral Sengoku's orders. You can't blame me for this…"
His mouth twitched nervously, and his body instinctively backed away.
If it were anyone else, he wouldn't have flinched.
But this was Garp.
The man standing at the pinnacle of strength in this entire sea!
On top of that, his son had just defected from the Marines. The guy had to be burning with frustration and itching to blow off steam.
Most importantly, Garp was the only Marine known for being completely unreasonable.
And Daren? He was still sore all over and running on fumes. If he got clobbered here, he'd be laid up for days.
But just as he stepped back, he felt something hard behind him.
He turned to look.
It was a towering, twenty-meter-high abandoned warship.
Yet before he could process that, an overwhelming force—like a collapsing mountain—suddenly surged toward him.
His heart pounded uncontrollably.
It felt like every drop of blood in his body was boiling under the sheer pressure of impending doom.
His body tensed to the limit, instinctively switching into combat mode.
But in the next moment, as he looked ahead—
A fist, just a plain, ordinary fist, began to grow larger and larger in his vision.
Daren's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
That punch...
He couldn't describe it.
There was no Haki, no aura, no shockwave, no flames... not even speed—it moved slow enough to be seen clearly.
Yet at that exact moment,
A wave of near-hopeless despair rose in his chest.
He couldn't take this punch!
So all he could do was stand there and watch, eyes wide, as Garp's fist—moving at a casual pace—drew closer to his face.
It brushed past his hair—
And struck the warship behind him.
Bang!
A soft, muffled thud.
So ordinary.
Like a child nervously tapping a stick against a wall.
But the next instant—
BOOM!!
The entire massive abandoned warship exploded into a blizzard of debris!!
A wild shockwave tore across the ground, ripping apart everything behind Daren—including the warship and several heavy artillery platforms.
Gulp...
Daren swallowed hard.
"Vice... Vice Admiral Garp..."
Before he could finish, Garp—who had kept his head low the whole time—suddenly looked up and grinned.
"Want to learn? I'll teach you."