Chapter 22: Sengoku Joins the Fight – A Golden Buddha and an Old Brother’s Hug!

"Lieutenant General Garp's Iron Fist... was caught—just like that!"

"Impossible...!"

Across the battlefield, stunned voices rang out from the surrounding navy soldiers. For many of them, Garp wasn't just a Vice Admiral—he was a living legend, a symbol of invincibility.

And now, that very symbol had just been effortlessly stopped.

Jack, the mysterious fighter, had caught Garp's strongest punch with one hand—and even while facing the combined attacks of the three Admirals!

The marines stood frozen in disbelief. How could this be?

"Maybe Lieutenant General Garp wasn't using his full strength?"

"Yeah! That must be it! There's no way someone could stop his Iron Fist if he was going all out!"

"Lieutenant General Garp, please! Show us your real strength! Defeat him!"

"Yes! We believe in you! Give it everything you've got!"

A wave of chants rose among the soldiers as they rallied behind Garp, completely unaware of one crucial truth.

Garp wanted to yell back at them.

"You brats think I was holding back?! That was my full strength!"

That punch—his legendary Iron Fist—was the real deal. No tricks. No restraint. He'd put everything he had into it.

And Jack had stopped it like he was catching a fly.

Even more humiliating was the sensation Garp had felt when his punch connected. It was as if his arm had been trapped in an iron vice, unable to move no matter how hard he tried.

It wasn't just brute strength. Jack's grip was calculated, precise, unshakable.

From the high platform, Sengoku's face turned grim.

He knew Garp better than anyone. That punch wasn't half-hearted.

It was everything Garp had.

And yet, Jack remained completely unscathed.

A cold feeling crept into Sengoku's chest—a sense of impending loss. Could it be… was Akainu truly doomed?

Even now, the admiral still stood defiantly, ready to face Jack. But Sengoku could tell: this situation was spiraling out of control.

He clenched his fists.

He didn't want to act—not unless absolutely necessary. As Fleet Admiral, it was his role to command, not to fight.

But now?

He was the last top-tier combatant the Navy had left.

He had no choice.

"Garp, I'm coming in!" Sengoku shouted.

From the platform, Sengoku leapt into the air. Golden light exploded from his body as his form changed.

He activated his Mythical Zoan ability—the Golden Buddha form.

His body expanded, glowing with divine brilliance. Towering and majestic, he raised one massive, golden palm.

The very air vibrated with pressure as he came down toward Jack.

From his position, Jack looked up—not surprised, not worried. He simply gave Sengoku a glance and smirked.

With a casual motion, Jack tossed Garp directly at the descending Buddha.

"Sengoku!"

"Garp!"

The two veterans cried out simultaneously as they realized what Jack had done.

Garp, recognizing the danger, activated his Haki mid-air, coating his body with Armament to soften the blow.

Sengoku, likewise, tried to pull his strike back to avoid crushing his old friend.

But neither had enough time to fully adjust.

BOOM!

The two collided in mid-air—not with Jack, but with each other.

They hit the ground in a tangled heap, tumbling several times before coming to a stop.

When the dust settled, the two were lying in a crumpled, tangled position—arms wrapped around one another like an awkward wrestling match.

"…You okay?" Garp grunted.

"Yeah. You?" Sengoku coughed.

"…I hate you sometimes."

"…Likewise."

Around them, silence fell.

And then came the cheers.

But they weren't from the Navy.

They were from the pirates.

From the Whitebeard crew.

From Ace.

From Luffy.

From the onlookers who had begun to realize—the tide had completely turned.

The two most powerful symbols of the Navy—Garp the Fist and Sengoku the Buddha—had been neutralized without Jack even having to fight them directly.

Jack, meanwhile, simply dusted off his hands and turned his gaze back toward Akainu.

Garp and Sengoku were done. He had no reason to waste time on them anymore.

He wasn't here to kill everyone.

Just one.

---

In the background, the Z-Fighters watched through their metaphysical window—connected across worlds through the power of the cosmic thugs.

Goku: "He really threw Garp into Sengoku… and they hugged!"

Vegeta: "Hmph. Humiliating. I'd disintegrate myself before letting something like that happen."

Tien: "This is insane… Jack didn't even move and still took them both out of the fight."

Piccolo: "He's not just strong—he's surgical."

Roshi: "That's my boy Krillin—I mean, Jack! Tactful, precise, no unnecessary killing. Beautiful."

---

Back on the battlefield, the Navy's morale was in shambles.

Some soldiers had already dropped their weapons. Others looked around with hollow expressions, their faith shattered.

"The Admiral of Admirals… taken out…"

"Even Garp couldn't do anything…"

"Is this the end for the Navy?"

By contrast, the Whitebeard Pirates erupted in cheers.

They'd already sensed their advantage, but now it was official.

They'd won.

Unless the Navy could summon a force that could rival Jack…

They had no chance.

But such a person didn't exist.

And even if they did—they weren't here now.

---

However, there was one lingering problem.

As powerful as Jack was, he couldn't use Haki. Not yet.

Which meant he couldn't physically touch Akainu with conventional attacks.

Akainu, whose Logia magma body required Haki to strike directly, stood as the one person Jack couldn't damage through brute force alone.

Ironically, Akainu was the one who had been most aggressive throughout the battle.

Now, seeing that Sengoku and Garp had been taken out so easily, Akainu hesitated. Even he felt a chill run down his spine.

But before he could fully reassess, he noticed something.

Aokiji and Kizaru were gone.

They were no longer beside him.

"Where are those bastards?!"

As it turned out, they had moved—not away from the battlefield entirely, but subtly repositioned themselves away from Akainu.

Their goal wasn't to flee.

It was to avoid collateral damage.

Jack's next attack would clearly target Akainu, and neither of them wanted to be caught in the blast radius.

Kizaru gave Aokiji a lazy wink.

"We're still here, right?"

Aokiji nodded.

"Totally. Just… observing."

The two "old oilers," as they were called, knew how to survive. They wouldn't defy the Navy directly, but they wouldn't throw their lives away for Akainu either.

Of course, they still made a show of attacking.

Kizaru zipped through the sky with a flash of light, while Aokiji launched a sheet of ice—both aiming near Jack.

But Jack didn't even flinch.

He knew they weren't serious.

They weren't even trying to hit him.

Akainu, however, misunderstood.

He believed they were rejoining the fight—and emboldened by their "support," he surged forward, magma fists blazing.

"You think I'll go down like the rest?! Come, Jack!"

Jack turned toward him, calm and composed.

His body began to glow with radiant energy—not Haki, but something else.

Something more primal.

Ki.

The air around him shimmered, and the ground cracked beneath his feet. The pressure was rising again.

And this time…

Even Akainu would feel it.

patreon(Jutsu_143)