After bidding farewell to Robin, Olvia and Saul boarded the CP9 workship they had seized earlier and set off for Baltigo, to seek refuge with Monkey D. Dragon.
Michael stayed behind with little Robin, watching the two leave. Then, the soldiers from Garp's flagship began to return one after another.
"Report, Vice Admiral Garp. We've completed a thorough inspection of the island, inside and out."
A drifting cloud swept across the sky, then landed on the deck and condensed into a human form.
Blonde hair, green eyes, dressed in a white Marine suit with a Justice cape on her back.
It was Stella, who had eaten the Cloud-Cloud Fruit.
"All potential threats have been eliminated! However, this island lies on a seismic fault line, so there's a significant risk of earthquakes. But since it's mostly forest and plains with no major mountains, there's little chance of mudslides."
Bogard returned to the deck as well. He saluted Garp and then headed into the cabin to begin making the necessary arrangements for departure.
"Excellent. Stella, you've done a fine job." Michael nodded in approval, then smiled and turned to the old man facing away from him.
"Garp, it's time for us to go."
Garp didn't turn around. He didn't respond either.
He just stood there, gazing at the scene before him.
Michael noticed that the direction Garp was facing was precisely where Ohara had once been.
Even now, smoke could still be seen drifting into the sky from the place where Ohara had sunk.
No one knew what was going through the old man's mind.
Michael simply stepped past him and told Bogard to prepare for departure.
When he returned again, Garp was still standing alone on the deck—like a stubborn rock.
Just standing there...
Standing...
Anyone unaware might think he was a statue lost in thought!
Suddenly, Michael realized something. His mouth twitched.
He moved to stand beside Garp and looked at his face.
As expected!
The old man had dozed off standing up again!
So it turns out that, besides having big hearts, the D-clan also has an innate talent for falling asleep at any moment!?
Michael couldn't take it anymore. He flicked out a spark of Holy Flame and burned off half of Garp's pants.
The heat roused Garp from his slumber. He looked down...
"Michael! You little brat—get over here and die!"
Naturally, Michael wasn't about to take that lying down. It's not his fault Garp fell asleep!
Sleeping while standing—at this rate, the old man might start dozing off mid-battle someday!
He was doing Garp a favor here!
With that self-righteous logic in mind, Michael retaliated with full confidence.
"Take this! Fist of Love!"
When Garp saw Michael fighting back, the corners of his mouth curled into a subtle smile.
Then, he threw what looked like an ordinary punch.
But Michael knew better. That punch carried power, speed, technique—and Armament Haki.
So without hesitation, he drew Ace.
Armament Haki instantly dyed the blade's patterns black and purple.
Holy Flame surged from his body, wrapping around the sword.
He raised it in front of him to block.
Clang!
Fist met blade with the sound of clashing steel.
Michael was forced back several steps. Garp took two steps back as well.
"Tch. You little monster—don't you think you're going a bit overboard?"
Garp looked at Michael in surprise. Over the past year and a half, he had come to understand just how unusual Michael's body was.
That rapidly growing strength, speed, and Haki capacity had shattered all of Garp's previous notions.
But this sudden all-out punch had made something else clear...
In this year and a half, this brat had been holding back!
If Garp hadn't suddenly attacked and triggered Michael's full reflexive counter, he might have remained in the dark.
The fact that Michael could take that punch without a scratch told Garp all he needed to know...
This kid's strength already surpassed the Vice Admirals. He was on the same level as Gion and Tokikake.
All he needed now was more battles against powerful foes to fully hone his combat experience...
Thinking this far, Garp couldn't help but glance again at the smug, wicked grin on that handsome face.
Damn it.
Not even twenty, and already a candidate for Admiral!
Who was he supposed to complain to!?
Suddenly, Garp recalled the time he requested extended leave from Sengoku, saying he was taking Michael and Stella out for training...
Sengoku had approved the indefinite leave without hesitation.
At the time, Sengoku's expression had been... peculiar.
Now it all made sense—Sengoku had known all along about Michael's extraordinary strength and talent!
Damn it! That pair of bastards set him up!
...
It took Michael quite a while to coax the petty old man Garp into a good mood.
But for a long time after that, Garp still gave him sour looks.
"Alright, Garp, I admit I was hiding part of my strength. But it was to give you—a teacher—a surprise, right?"
"Hmph, a surprise? More like you were holding back so you could stay in 'Paradise' longer, weren't you?"
Michael's face twitched.
This old man might not be that bright...
But his beast-like intuition was scary as hell.
"Ahem, I'm still young, right? Just became a Marine not that long ago. And you want me to go to the New World and fight bloodthirsty pirates already? You're ruthless!"
"Don't put words in my mouth. I never said I was sending you to the New World right now."
Garp rolled his eyes.
As Zephyr's old friend, he had his own ideas about cultivating Marines. He'd never throw promising new blood straight into the meat grinder of the New World.
Well... unless that blockhead Sakazuki ends up in charge someday.
"But that aside, have you thought about changing your sword's appearance?" Garp pointed to the blade at Michael's waist. "Even though Roger gave you Ace, it's still the Pirate King's sword. Might cause trouble later."
"What? You think I'm scared?"
"I don't think you're afraid of trouble—I think you hate trouble."
"You know me so well." Michael gave Garp a thumbs up. "That said, it's not like I don't want to change it. But finding a smith capable of reforging a Supreme Grade blade... that's no easy task."
"Do you really need a blacksmith for this?" Garp pointed at Michael himself. "Does any smith have flames as hot as your Holy Flame?"
Michael froze.
Right!
With Holy Flame, he could reforge Ace himself!
He didn't even need to change it much...
He just didn't like the Western-style longsword guard.
"Old man... say what you will, but your weird-ass thinking really works sometimes!"
"...I'll pretend that was a compliment." Garp's mouth twitched as he fought back the urge to punch Michael.
"So where are we going next? We can't exactly bring a ship full of scholars back to Marine Headquarters, can we?"
"Of course not." Michael shook his head, a confident smile spreading across his face. "We're going somewhere the Marines can't interfere—but that's still a World Government member nation."
"Huh? You mean..."
"That's right. We're going to Alabasta."
To carry out a saturation bombing!
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