As Garm approached, Garp grinned and casually tossed a bundle of fruits his way, already anticipating his son's voracious appetite. He knew that Garm, after their brutal training session, would be starving—especially since his appetite had already begun to surpass even Garp's.
Without hesitation, Garm dove into the fruits, eating them one after another without even bothering to look. Meanwhile, Garp and Bogard got to work prepping the boars, setting up a fire, and sharpening blades with practiced ease.
In the middle of his feeding frenzy, Garm grabbed a strange-looking fruit—its surface etched with unnatural swirls, its color completely alien. Garm paused for a split second, recognizing it as a possible Devil Fruit.
He knew the risks. But curiosity—and hunger—won out.
He took a big bite.
The horrible taste hit him immediately, like rotting rubber mixed with metal and ash. He gagged, nearly vomiting it up—but then a voice echoed in his mind, calm and final:
[Congratulations on receiving your random Devil Fruit. This is the last message you will receive. Goodbye, and good luck.]
Just like that, knowledge surged into him. The fruit had a name:
Gamu Gamu no Mi — the Chewing Gum Fruit.
It allowed him to create, control, and transform into chewing gum or bubble gum at will. Similar to the Gomu Gomu no Mi, but with elasticity and stickiness dialed to a whole new level. He could stretch, rebound, trap, inflate—and with bubble gum, even float and seal opponents inside gum domes. It was a perfect fruit for someone like him, especially with what he knew about Luffy and Katakuri's fighting styles.
Garm's body instinctively began syncing with the fruit. Basic control and movement patterns were downloaded into his mind, allowing him to understand its functions almost immediately.
A grin spread across his face.
Time for a little payback.
As Garp stood by the fire with his back turned, Garm stretched his arm out like a whip, wrapped it around Garp's leg, and yanked hard.
WHAM.
Garp's face slammed flat into the dirt.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA! HOW'S THAT, OLD MAN?! THAT'S FOR PUNCHING ME EARLIER!" Garm roared with laughter, bouncing up and down like a rubber ball, absolutely delighted.
Garp groaned and lifted his head, dust clinging to his mustache. But instead of shouting, he paused, eyes narrowing at his son, who was literally bouncing.
"…What happened to you?" Garp asked, eyebrow raised.
Garm stopped bouncing and answered with a serious expression.
"There was a weird-looking fruit in the pile you gave me. I ate it. Tasted horrible."
Bogard, who had just finished skinning one of the boars, turned sharply toward them.
"That was a Devil Fruit, wasn't it, Garp-san?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"Yes, but we're not sure what it does," Garp replied to Bogard, glancing at Garm with growing curiosity.
But then—he remembered what Garm just did. Without warning, Garp swung his fist down and punched Garm on the head.
This time, something strange happened.
Thanks to the rubbery consistency of the Gamu Gamu no Mi, Garm's neck stretched backward like a spring, absorbing most of the blow. His head snapped back into place with momentum, and Garm headbutted Garp right in the face.
"HAHAHAHA! Your reign is ending, old man!" Garm shouted, bouncing back and laughing as he pointed at Garp.
The provocation worked.
Garp's grin faded for a moment. With a sigh, he coated his fist in Armament Haki and punched Garm with a solid, haki-infused blow, like what Garp had done to Luffy so many times in the future.
"AGHHHH!" Garm yelped, grabbing his head in pain.
Garp simply smiled down at him.
"There's no defense against the Fist of Love."
"Can you teach me that?" Garm asked innocently, careful not to name Haki outright.
"You're too young," Garp replied with a gruff chuckle. "Just stick to the training. If you've got the guts, it'll come naturally."
Garp's tone was light, but his intent was clear. He didn't want Garm relying on talent alone. No matter how strong he was born, Garp would forge him through discipline and sweat.
"So… what can you do with that fruit? Know any tricks yet?" Garp asked, eyeing him with both curiosity and anticipation.
"Well… I can do this," Garm said.
He stretched out his hands, which turned into a smooth, pink, gum-like substance. Then, he enlarged his fists, mimicking Luffy's Gear Third, before reshaping them into spiked maces, similar to Katakuri's hardened mochi weapons. Finally, he returned his arms to normal, then puffed up his cheeks and blew a large gum bubble from his mouth.
The bubble grew bigger and bigger before Garm threw it at Garp and Bogard. On contact, the bubble burst with a mild explosion—one that stuck to them like adhesive glue.
Garp blinked, then laughed.
"Oi, that's useful! Perfect for catching pirates!" he roared with approval. "Great Devil Fruit for a future Marine!"
"What Marine? I told you—I'm gonna be a pirate!" Garm snapped stubbornly.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOU BRAT?!"
Garp roared again, and just like that, another punching match began—with fists flying, ground shaking, and Bogard quietly stepping back with a sigh.
They kept at it until the smell of roasted boar filled the air.
As if a switch had been flipped, both Garp and Garm immediately stopped fighting, sat down like nothing had happened, and began devouring the meal together—Bogard joining them in silence, wondering how this had somehow become normal.
As the three of them sat around the fire, greedily tearing into the roasted boar, the quiet rustling of leaves came from the forest nearby.
Garp glanced up, chewing slowly. Bogard reached for his sword out of habit. Garm, mid-bite, paused with meat still hanging from his mouth.
From between the trees, a boy emerged—his expression calm, serious, and almost unreadable. He looked to be around eleven, with sharp eyes and a composed aura far beyond his years. He looked a little like Garm, but his demeanor was completely different. While Garp radiated chaos and Garm was a bouncing troublemaker, this boy was composed. Focused. Cold, almost.
Until he saw Garm.
The boy's eyes softened ever so slightly, the corners of his lips twitching upward—just barely.
"Dragon!" Garp said with a grin, voice booming as always. "Back already?"
It was Monkey D. Dragon, still young, but already carrying the weight of someone thinking far beyond his age.
Dragon said nothing at first. He simply walked toward the group, his calm steps deliberate. He reached Garm, who was still seated cross-legged on the ground, confused and blinking.
Without a word, Dragon bent down and pinched Garm's cheeks gently, tugging on them like a doting older brother. Garm blinked, stunned.
"You're heavier than last time," Dragon said, tone flat but fond. "You've been eating well."
"Owww—hey! What was that for?!" Garm mumbled through squished cheeks.
Dragon let go and ruffled his younger brother's hair with a sigh.
"I heard your training with Father's been... intense."
"You could say that," Garm muttered, rubbing his head and shooting a glare at Garp, who just laughed mid-bite.
Garp chomped down on another hunk of meat. "See? He's still alive! That means it's working!"
Bogard just quietly sipped from a canteen, choosing not to comment.
Dragon sat down beside Garm, grabbing a piece of roasted boar without being offered. He took a bite, chewing in silence.
Despite his usual stoic nature, he kept sneaking glances at Garm, as if checking for injuries, bruises, or signs of pain. It was subtle, but Garm noticed. And it confused him.
In the future he knew, Dragon was cold, calculating, distant—a revolutionary with a face like stone.
But here and now, he was just a big brother.
A big brother who happened to care.