Moments later.
Smoker swiftly led his contingent of Marines to the port.
Not long after.
A distinctive warship with a massive dog's head at its prow gradually emerged on the horizon, steadily approaching.
Once the ship docked and the gangplank was lowered, a tall, broad-chested man stepped off with confident strides. His hair and beard were gray, his muscles impressively defined, and he wore a dog-shaped hat atop his head. Draped over his shoulders was a Marine "Justice" cloak.
Following close behind was a Marine adjutant, also clad in a "Justice" cloak, dressed in a gray suit and matching top hat, accompanied by two squads of Marine soldiers.
"Vice Admiral Garp, thank you for your hard journey!" Smoker, known as a maverick among the Marines, saluted sharply upon seeing the old man, his expression serious as he spoke loudly.
"Vice Admiral Garp, thank you for your hard journey!" The other Marines at the port followed suit, raising their hands in salute and shouting in unison.
The nearby crowd, witnessing the scene, instinctively dispersed, leaving the once-bustling port eerily quiet.
Yet the "Hero of the Marines," Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, seemed oblivious to the commotion. He stood still, head lowered, as if lost in thought over something important.
Smoker, noticing this, frowned slightly in confusion and called out again, "Vice Admiral Garp!"
"Quit yelling!" Garp suddenly snapped his head up, roaring loud enough to startle everyone around.
Ignoring their reactions, he continued casually, "I heard you, alright?"
"I'm just a bit out of it—haven't slept in three days."
Smoker, puzzled by the explanation, responded earnestly, "Thank you for your efforts, Vice Admiral Garp."
Garp, however, waved it off dismissively. "Efforts? Nah, I was just trying to break my record for eating donuts in a row."
"Huh?" Smoker's brow shot up, wondering if he'd misheard.
Garp, unfazed, grinned widely and went on, "Ate 475 donuts without a wink of sleep these past few days, so I got a bit drowsy just now."
As he spoke, he pulled a donut from his coat and started munching on it nonchalantly.
"Uh…" Smoker's eye twitched, his face darkening as he froze, unsure how to respond.
Having eaten the donut, Garp seemed to perk up. He glanced at the grim-faced Smoker and chuckled, "Oh? Smoker, when'd you get here?"
A Marine soldier who had disembarked with Garp stepped forward and whispered, "Vice Admiral Garp, Colonel Smoker has been waiting for us at the port this whole time."
"Oh?" Garp blinked, then nodded. "Got it, got it."
Suddenly, his eyes landed on the heavy bandages wrapped around Smoker's chest. His gaze sharpened. "Smoker, you look pretty beat up."
"Seems the kid I'm here to catch is stronger than I thought."
Finally getting to the point, Smoker's expression softened. He nodded gravely. "Exactly. That guy—Wildman Will."
"Based on my assessment, his strength is at least on par with a Marine Headquarters Vice Admiral."
"Oh?" Garp's eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise in his voice. "That strong, huh?"
Smoker didn't hold back, recounting the events that had unfolded in the town square.
"What?!" Garp's mild surprise turned to shock. "You're saying that punk Dracule dragged himself here to fight this Will kid?!"
"And the two of them wrecked the entire square, and this Will kid walked away unscathed?!"
Garp knew his son Dragon's strength all too well. After all, that rebellious brat had been trained under his own iron fist. Back in the day, few Marines in Dragon's generation could even hold a candle to him.
"Didn't expect that kid who beat up a Celestial Dragon to be this strong," Garp mused, a glint of admiration in his eyes. He nodded to himself. "Not bad, not bad!"
"Honestly, those Celestial Dragon scumbags deserve a good thrashing!"
His adjutant, Bogard, quickly stepped forward and whispered, "Vice Admiral Garp, you can't just say that out loud."
"Huh? Can't I?" Garp scratched his head, then burst into a hoarse, booming laugh. "Bwahaha!"
Turning to the stunned Marines around him, he said casually, "Alright, pretend I didn't say that!"
"Uh…" Not just Smoker, but every Marine who heard him gaped in disbelief.
They hadn't expected their revered "Hero of the Marines" to seem so… unreliable in person.
Garp, however, didn't care one bit. He turned back to Smoker and asked, "By the way, when did that bounty-hunted kid leave Loguetown?"
Smoker paused for a moment before answering seriously, "A few hours ago."
"A few hours…" Garp stroked his chin, then waved dismissively. "Eh, too late to chase him now."
"I'll wait till that kid stirs up some trouble on the Grand Line, then go nab him."
"Bwahaha!" Garp threw his head back, laughing heartily, completely unconcerned.
Smoker could only shake his head helplessly, unable to do anything about the man.
"Alright, since the kid's already headed to the Grand Line, I'm off," Garp said, suddenly serious. "Got some business to handle at Water 7."
Smoker blinked but didn't pry, saluting again. "Yes, sir!"
Garp nodded slightly, then turned and waved grandly. "Let's move out!"
"Yes, sir!" The Marines from the ship responded in unison.
And just like that, Garp, who hadn't even stayed long, boarded his warship again and set sail, gradually vanishing from the port's view.
"This…" Tashigi, watching the scene, murmured, "Vice Admiral Garp just… left?"
"Yeah," Smoker replied, unsurprised. He lit a cigar, took a drag, and said, "Garp may seem a bit… off."
"But when it matters, he's as reliable as they come."
"I see." Tashigi nodded thoughtfully, half-understanding.
Smoker didn't elaborate, turning to give orders. "Alright, let's wrap this up!"
"Yes, sir!" The Marines at the port shouted, rifles raised.
With that, they quickly dispersed.
Soon, the port returned to its usual lively bustle.
But at that moment…
A small ship with a goat's head at its bow appeared on the distant horizon, steadily approaching Loguetown's port.
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