The stench of blood, so strong it made one nauseous, mixed with the unique rotting odor of a beast's innards. Stirred by the cold sea breeze, it spread without restraint. Scarlet, viscous waves rolled, unclear whether they were fragments of flesh or the slimy remnants of organs.
Further out, the massive, headless corpse of a beast rose and fell like a mountain, making the sea surface slick with dark red filth like floating oil.
For a moment, time itself froze before this scene of purgatory.
"Ugh…"
Dadan was the first to break, face pale as paper. She clutched her stomach and bent down, retching violently against the reef beneath her feet.
Her stomach churned as the horrific moments replayed madly in her mind.
The gaping jaws, the child leaping forward, and then—that rift in her vision, that symbol of finality…
That black light!
Dogura and Magura were not faring much better. They had always considered themselves hardened bandits, used to licking blood off their blades, boasting of the countless brutal scenes they had witnessed. But this… this pure hell of flesh and ruin caused by crushing, overwhelming power—this was the first time.
Their faces were deathly pale. The knuckles of their hands, gripping their weapons, whitened as their bodies trembled uncontrollably. In the air there was only Dadan's stifled retching, the rush of seawater washing away blood, and—
That small figure standing atop the broken stump of the pier, emitting the heavy, ragged breathing of a damaged bellows.
"Huff… huff… huff…"
Katsuo (at this moment, through Luffy's body) hung his head low. His soaked black hair clung to his forehead, blocking part of his sight.
Cold, sticky water laced with the metallic stench of blood dripped continuously from his hair and clothes, spreading ripples of dark red in the seawater at his feet. He looked at his right hand, still raised in midair, frozen in the motion of a downward slash.
That small hand, smeared with mud, filth, and something even more unspeakably sticky, trembled uncontrollably. Beneath the skin, it still pulsed with some enormous resonance that did not belong to it.
The impact on his soul just moments ago had been too violent.
It felt like detonating a bomb deep within his spirit. When the energy burst out, what was left was the deafening roar of his consciousness being torn apart and a hollow void.
The cold, heavy, peerlessly sharp shadow of the Zanpakutō (Zangetsu) was branded deep into his soul, as clear as an etching.
Power… this was the Zanpakutō (Zangetsu)?
And the price… this crushing emptiness, as if his very soul had been scraped clean?
At that moment—
BOOM!!!
A thunderclap tore through the coast!
The air itself split apart.
A towering figure, draped in a cloak marked by its iconic dog-head cap, crashed onto the blood-soaked beach with an earth-shattering impact!
It was Hero Garp!
He had clearly rushed back at extreme speed, using techniques like Geppō (Moon Step).
The rocky ground beneath his feet cracked under the violent force of his landing, spreading spiderweb fissures.
But the legendary Vice Admiral, who had roamed the seas for decades, paid no attention to the shattered earth. His normally carefree, grinning face—like a mischievous old fool—was frozen in an expression that would have stunned anyone who knew him.
His mouth was wide open, as if it could swallow a watermelon whole.
His huge, bell-like eyes bulged, ready to leap from their sockets, staring in utter disbelief at the small figure standing on the pier—and beyond him, at the blood-drenched sea, and the half-sunken, headless corpse of the Sea King.
The Lord of the Coast? Split in two?
"I… I'm not seeing things, am I?"
Garp's voice had lost its usual booming tone. It carried a rare tremor of uncertainty, as if he couldn't trust his own battle-worn eyes.
His thick neck twisted stiffly from side to side, like he needed to confirm this wasn't some kind of mass hallucination.
Dadan was still gagging. Dogura and Magura looked pale as ghosts. At the tavern door, the pirates stood in stunned silence.
His gaze returned to the drenched, trembling figure on the pier.
Yes. It was Luffy. The same foolish grandson who only ever played around in Windmill Village, always eating, sleeping, and messing about.
But now… the chilling aura of survival emanating from that small body, the razor-sharp sensation that even stung Garp's own skin, and the undeniable battlefield of carnage—all screamed the same truth:
This was real.
"Ha…" A short, suppressed laugh escaped Garp's throat. In the next instant, it exploded like a lit powder keg.
"HAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Garp threw his head back, roaring with laughter. The sound rolled like thunder along the coast, shaking the reefs beneath his feet.
Any pretense of heroism, any demeanor of a Vice Admiral—forgotten. At that moment, he was just an old hunter who had just watched his clumsy fawn kick a Tyrannosaurus Rex to death.
The massive surge of joy, shock, and even a sliver of fear exploded from him in a deafening bellow:
"Good! Good! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Before the laugh had faded, Garp's towering frame vanished from sight.
In the blink of an eye, his chest, broad as a fortress wall and clad in the dog-head cloak, loomed directly before Katsuo, who was still gasping and trembling from soul exhaustion.
A rush of sweat, steel, and—something else, something raw and paternal—overwhelmed him.
Katsuo's vision darkened. A crushing force wrapped around him instantly.
"You little brat!"
Garp's massive hand, rough with grit and stone dust, scooped up the drenched, bloodstained Luffy as if he were a giant doll. The grip was harsh, but protective, locking him into an embrace.
The force was so great Katsuo could hear his bones creak. His nose slammed against Garp's chest, as hard as an iron plate, nearly making him choke.
(End of Chapter)
[50 Power Stones = 1 Extra Chapter]
[Thanks for your support!]