The sea was calm, the sun just right.
Roger's crew was making steady headway on their new ship. It wasn't the future legend, the Oro Jackson, but compared to that rickety coffin they'd once sailed, the difference was night and day.
On deck everyone had found their own fun, and for once Kael Grylls was enjoying a sliver of peace. He leaned against the rail with a fishing rod that had no bait on the hook. Purely for the look. Purely for the quiet.
In the past two years he'd watched crewmates join one by one, and watched Gol D. Roger's bounty rocket like a bottle rocket. Which meant the Marines had grown ever more fond of paying them "friendly visits."
"Island ahead!"
From the lookout, Pitam's voice boomed across the deck. "Hold on… in front of the island… Marines! Several ships! The lead vessel's colors say, a commodore!"
"Marines?"
"A commodore?"
The deck came alive in an instant. Miller Pine set down his rum barrel and hefted his spiked maul, knuckles popping. Major Myugulian calmly spat out his cigar, eyes sharpening as his hand settled on a pistol grip. Spencer only sighed with elegant regret, as if mourning the afternoon tea he would not now enjoy.
"Ku-ha-ha-ha! Perfect time to stretch my arms!" Roger burst from the captain's cabin, excitement plain on his face.
"Hey now, it's just a Marine squad," Kael said, stowing the rod, stretching lazily. He glanced over the deck at the newer faces itching for a fight, and the edge of his mouth tipped into a meaningful smile.
It was time. He might have ridden the dream of becoming a "Network King" and his people skills to glide through life aboard, but if you wanted monsters to listen, you needed strength.
Face, sometimes, is earned with fists.
"A mere commodore's flotilla hardly requires the captain or first mate," Kael rolled his wrists and stepped forward, planting himself in front of the others. "Coincidentally, this will let our latecomers see what their senior can do."
Silence fell. All eyes slid to him.
"Ooh," Jaba was first to hoot, flinging an arm around Kael's neck. "Kael's about to show off."
"Try not to fall in the sea. That would be embarrassing," Miller Pine cackled.
"Hmph." Major Myugulian snorted. He'd heard the early hands praise Kael's power, but he hadn't truly seen it.
"Ku-ha-ha! Interesting," Roger laughed loudest. "Then it's yours, Kael. Make it quick. The banquet's the priority."
Rayleigh only pushed his glasses up with a faint smile. Behind the lenses, his eyes were full of approval and anticipation.
With the captain's nod, Kael stopped talking. He drew a slow breath and sank his weight.
"Shock Step, Flash."
Boom.
A blunt report cracked across the deck. The planks sagged under his feet and Kael shot skyward like a fired cannonball. The kickback was so violent even the big ship swayed.
"Oh, that was slick," the crew murmured, especially the newer ones, eyes shining.
Arcing high, Kael seemed about to lose momentum, then stamped on thin air with his right foot.
Pop.
A tight sonic thump rippled the air in visible rings. He sprang higher and angled sharply, as if mounting invisible steps, zigzagging through the sky in a way that mocked common sense.
"Moonwalk?" Myugulian muttered, then shook his head. "No… not that."
"It's his fruit," Rayleigh said beside him. "He turns shockwaves into stepping stones."
The deck hummed with impressed whistles. So the quiet, smiling boy who always seemed harmless and oddly adult was, in fact, outrageous.
Kael had already crossed a few hundred meters of sea. The Marine squadron loomed close. He could make out the panic on the sailors' faces on the flagship, fingers jabbing upward like they'd spotted a UFO.
Good. The dramatic entrance had landed. Now for the elegant cleanup.
He weighed options. One "Sound-Cleave, Phoenix Detonation" to mop the deck. Or a Light-Illusion Mirage to make them beat each other up.
He was just picking when a voice boomed up from the flagship. It was loud, hearty, full-bodied, the kind of sound that made his DNA vibrate.
"Huh? What's that up there? A weird bird?"
Crunch. Crunch. The cheerful bite of senbei.
"Men! See that ship? That's the up-and-coming Roger Pirates."
"Roger, this time you won't get away. Surrender quietly and accept justice."
Kael froze in midair. His smile curdled and sweat beaded cold along his hairline.
That voice. That laugh. Those cursed senbei crunches.
Pardon me, sir, I didn't recognize you from up here.
A commodore? Commodore my foot. When has Monkey D. Garp ever been just a commodore?
Look into my eyes. Tell me.
From their very first year at sea he had haunted them, half the Grand Line spent with that man on their wake. Kael could practically see him now, digging in his nose while giving Kael the same look he reserved for litter on the street.
Back on Roger's ship, the clueless were still cheering.
"Go, Senior Kael!"
"Show them what Roger's crew can do!"
"So cool, Senior Kael!"
Kael wanted to cry. Me? Take down Garp?
Your senior is about to die out there, you punks.
"Oh! The brat from Roger's ship," Garp called again, with the bewildering warmth of bumping into an old friend abroad. "Flying with spirit, huh? Interested in joining the Marines? I can write you a recommendation! Hah hah hah!"
He didn't bother lowering his voice. The sea breeze carried every word back to Roger's deck. The new members' awe turned instantly odd. Only a few wore the expression of people thinking, as expected.
"Ku-ha-ha!" Roger folded his arms, shaking with laughter. "Knew it. Every time Garp sees Kael he opens with that line."
Rayleigh sighed, smiling despite himself. "In Garp's eyes, Kael is our most promising model citizen."
Hearing this outrageous recruitment pitch, Kael's face went black. Join the Marines, with you, and serve as your sandbag for the Fist of Love every day? Do I look like I'm into that?
He said nothing, opting to go cool and ignore the bait.
Garp, you are playing with fire.
Garp was not the kind to back off because someone ignored him.
"Silent, are we? Shy?" His grin flashed white, shark-bright and to Kael more frightening than a Sea King's maw. "Wicked pirate brat, I'll let you feel the warmth of justice myself."
He reached down, plucked up several cannonballs, and
whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
No fuses. No guns. Just arm strength.
The cannonballs went black in an instant, swallowed in a midnight sheen of Armament Haki. They screamed through the sky, ripping the air into white wakes, a handful of onyx meteors exploding upward toward Kael.
"Oh, come on."
Cold sweat sheeted down Kael's back. So this is a king-tier general, huh?
Take even one clean and, even if he weren't blown to shards, the impact alone would shatter him and drop him straight into the Sea Kings' lunchbox.
Every retreat line was sealed, every dodge lane pre-read.
No escape.
Kael Grylls, aspiring Network King, was about to lose all mystique right here.
Avoid him? With all those new pairs of eyes on his back?
Not a chance.