South Blue waters, east blue emperor.
On the open-air banquet deck, Ginny was sprawled lazily in a chair.
'I just opened a door above the island for a look—Captain Seven and vice-captain Mihawk are still crossing blades. This is the third day; how long do they plan to keep at it?'
Fujitora chuckled. 'To be honest, I haven't sparred with anyone in a long while.'
For a swordsman, there's no greater fortune than to have two master-blade companions at hand.
A leisurely duel over drinks is an elegant pastime: it sharpens one's swordsmanship, refines the spirit, and brings hearts closer.
Pity Mihawk beat him to it this time.
Next round, it would be Fujitora Issho's turn.
He didn't mind the nickname the papers and the Marines had given him; if anything, it suited his temperament.
'No-no-no!'
Ginny waved her hands hastily. 'Mr. Fujitora, we still have to sail to the East Blue to recruit crew. If you join in, they'll be at it for ten days straight.'
Two Great Swordsmen had already fought three days; add another and the island might sink before they finished.
Was this the heart of a true powerhouse?
In truth, Ginny was training too.
Unlike Seven and Mihawk's duels, she spent her days madly opening Doors—on anything her eyes could reach: the hull, food, air, newspapers, even Kuma-chin's body.
In an Emperor-level crew like the Morning Star Pirates, she figured that even if she couldn't become top-tier, she mustn't hold the others back.
She had to be useful.
Besides, opening Doors was fun—an experience unlike anything she'd ever tried.
Only one thing disappointed her: if she accidentally stepped through a Door into the sea, her body went limp and she couldn't move.
Had the Ohara scholars aboard not fished her out, she'd have sunk for good.
'Sis Ginny!' Robin's voice rang from the crow's-nest.
'Ship ahead—one big one.'
At that, Ginny opened a Door onto the platform and saw, cutting through the waves toward them, a dog-headed warship.
'Kuma-chin, hard to starboard! I'll fetch the Captain.'
Yet the dog-headed vessel seemed not to notice them; Garp on the prow punched the sea and sent his ship flying.
'What the—?!' Ginny opened another Door and stepped straight onto the barren island.
'Captain, trouble—Marines!'
By now Seven and Mihawk had stopped. Their Observation Haki, amplified by electromagnetic waves, blanketed the surrounding seas; they'd already sensed the warship.
They hadn't rushed back because Seven felt Garp heading straight for the island.
'Ginny, take Mihawk back to rest.'
Mihawk was covered in blood. A fearsome enemy was upon them and he was nearly spent—but a man never admits he's finished.
'I can still fight.'
It was the first time Mihawk had met someone whose swordplay he could best yet whose stamina outlasted his own, forcing a draw.
Frustrating.
How had the man grown so fast?
In only two years it was as if he'd been reborn, body and soul.
His physique was monstrous; even without Armament Haki he could bat away Flying Slashes.
Was this the bloodline of the gods?
'No need,' Seven waved it off.
'Garp's here for me. You weigh anchor first; I'll catch up at speed.'
As Ginny helped Mihawk through a Door back to the east blue emperor, Garp leapt from the prow of the dog-headed ship and appeared above the island.
'Roger's brat from that ship.'
'Fist Bone: Impact!'
Seven stared skyward in exasperation—opening with an ultimate right off the bat? Damn it, old man Garp, keep pushing me and I'll snatch Dragon's wife and make your grandson my son.
Crimson-black Haki coiled round the iron fist as it bore down; Seven turned to lightning and in a flash dodged the head-seeking blow.
The already ravaged island split into four chunks under the punch, sea-water flooding the cracks.
Garp stood on one fragment, his justice cloak flapping in the wind.
'Roger's brat—pretty quick.'
Seven hovered mid-air, wearing a playful smile.
'As expected of you, Mr. Garp. Captain Roger's been gone two years and you still can't let go—such bonds make one envious.'
Garp scratched his head in embarrassment, his blank look seeming to say: I didn't, I haven't, don't slander me.
So many people watching…
But laughter soon drowned it out.
'Ahahaha, Seven brat, a place like Impel Down suits a guy like you.'
In those days Garp with a single dog-headed warship had dared to chase the Roger Pirates across the globe—absolute confidence in his own strength.
Anyone else would never have been so reckless.
Yet Seven suspected the rashness was deliberate: cultivate the Deserter King as the Marines' mainstay and no one could stop his own grandson Monkey D. Luffy from becoming Pirate King.
A joke, yet it made sense.
Otherwise why take the Deserter King as a protégé?
Seven refused to believe Garp couldn't see what sort of man the fellow really was.
This was Garp—whose iron fists had defined an age, defeated Rocks, and stood as both rival and friend to Pirate King Roger.
How could he fail to tell a white-eyed wolf from a deserter king?
Unless, of course, twenty years had addled his brain.
But the present Garp—
Only a touch of gray at the temples, most of his hair still jet-black—at fifty-six stood at the tail-end of his prime.
'Mr. Garp, we haven't met in ages—why fight? Let's sit and talk.'
Garp grinned slyly, turning the tables.
'Fine—come on down.'
Seven mirrored the grin and changed the subject.
'How's your grandson? Hope no one misleads him; if he insists on being a pirate…'
'Tsk-tsk-tsk.'
'I can't bear to picture it—when they drag him to Marineford for execution, what will you do? Save your grandson, or cling to so-called justice?'
The smile faded from Garp's face; he was clearly thinking hard.
He knew Seven was using the chat to catch his breath, but he couldn't be bothered to call it out—after dueling Mihawk so long, Seven deserved a breather, and Garp wouldn't stoop to petty advantage.
'So what do you think I should do?'
The question stumped Garp; Seven had no answer either.
Bring him to Marineford for influence?
The last kid Garp brought to headquarters was now leader of the Self-Brave Army, bent on toppling the World Government.
If Ace were taken to Marineford, who could say what might follow?
Still, with Sister-in-law Rouge around, Ace probably wouldn't dream of piracy—Seven had specifically warned not to tell him about Captain Roger.
The two stared at each other in silence.
After a long while Garp suddenly burst into laughter.
'You little devil, you almost had me. Come down willingly and come with me, or shall I toss you into Impel Down?'
Seven lifted musou isshin.
'Here's the deal, Mr. Garp.'
'One move decides it: you win, I come with you; I win, we sail away.'
'Agreed?'