Under the blue sky, a nameless green island stretched out before them. Clear streams flowed from the jungle down to a pristine white-sand beach. The Oro Jackson was anchored quietly in the bay while the crew, in small groups, carried barrels of fresh water onto the ship.
"Hey! Hurry it up, you guys! If you don't, Roger's gonna start complaining about having no booze again!" Jabba shouted, his booming voice carrying across the beach as he easily carried two enormous water barrels.
"We know, we know! But you're the one who's most excited for it, aren't you, Mr. Jabba?" Nozdon teased as he and Sanbel struggled to lift an extra-large barrel together.
Kyle wasn't helping with the work. He had walked to a high rock on the island, closed his eyes, and let the sea breeze blow through his black hair. His "wave" spread out silently, sensing the island's pulse—the flow of the wind, the whisper of the water, the breathing of the animals in the forest. This peace, however, was soon broken by a familiar, headache-inducing presence.
Kyle's golden eyes snapped open. He looked toward the horizon and saw a black dot that was rapidly getting bigger. Even from miles away, he could make out the snarling dog-head figurehead of the warship.
"Seriously… he's like a ghost that just won't go away," Kyle sighed, but he couldn't help but smile.
At the same time on the deck of the Oro Jackson, Rayleigh put down his wine glass, his eyes growing sharp. "Everyone, listen up! An 'old friend' is here!"
The crew immediately stopped what they were doing and looked in the direction Rayleigh was pointing. The newer crew members, like Ellio, grew tense when they saw the warship.
"It's the Marines! And… that figurehead… it's Vice-Admiral Garp!"
"You've got to be kidding me! What are the chances of running into him out here?!"
Unlike the nervous newcomers, the older crew members like Jabba and Spencer just looked tired, as if to say, "Ah, here we go again." Before anyone could do anything else, a figure launched from the dog-head warship, flying through the sky with incredible speed, heading straight for the island. Even before he arrived, his powerful, booming roar swept across the area like thunder.
"Roger—!! You bastard, I finally caught you!!"
Roger, who was standing on a water barrel and directing the crew, didn't look tense at all. Instead, he grinned his signature wide smile. "Kuhahaha! Garp! You always have such a unique way of saying hello!"
Before he even finished speaking, Garp, who was still in mid-air, clenched his fist. Dark Armament Haki spread across his arm like ink, and a terrifying, world-destroying power gathered in his palm. Here we go, Kyle thought, watching the show with amusement. A big attack to show respect, I guess.
"Less talking! Today, I'm definitely dragging you to Impel Down! Galaxy Impact!"
A giant, spherical shockwave shot from Garp's hand. It compressed and tore the air apart as it flew, like an invisible meteor that threatened to wipe the entire island and the Roger Pirates off the map.
"Whoa! You're really not holding back!" Roger laughed, showing no signs of panic. He casually drew his saber, Ace, and powerful Conqueror's Haki wrapped around it, making black and red lightning crackle along the blade. "You want to catch me? You'll have to wait another hundred years! God Avoidance!"
The moment the two powerful attacks collided, the world seemed to freeze. Then, a silent, destructive force spread out in all directions. The shockwave was split in two by Roger's attack, and the two massive currents of energy shot past the island and into the sky, tearing two huge gaps in the clouds.
Boom—!
Garp landed hard on the beach, creating a large crater. He didn't even look at the other pirates. His eyes were locked on Roger, and he grinned, showing his white teeth. "Not bad, Roger. Your Haki's gotten stronger!"
"You're not so bad yourself, Garp! Your fists are still as hard as ever!" Roger said, resting his saber on his shoulder, his own fighting spirit burning just as brightly.
The next second, they both disappeared, reappearing as two blurs that slammed into each other in the middle of the beach. A terrifying shockwave erupted from where they clashed, making the entire island tremble. Birds flew out of the trees in a panic, and entire sections of the forest collapsed. Their battlefield quickly moved deeper into the island, leaving behind only a series of deafening roars and the sound of their occasional laughter.
Back on the beach, the pirates and the Marines who had started to come ashore just stared at each other. The atmosphere was incredibly awkward. The new crew members and the young Marine soldiers were completely lost, unsure if they were supposed to fight or just stand there.
"Um… Mr. Rayleigh," Ellio said, swallowing nervously, "shouldn't we… go help the captain?"
Rayleigh calmly looked away from the destroyed jungle and patted the dust off his clothes. "Alright, stop staring. They won't stop fighting for at least three days and three nights," he said to Spencer. "Go have someone bring all the best rum down from the ship."
"Huh?" Ellio and the other newcomers all froze, completely confused.
On the other side of the beach, a veteran-looking Marine colonel gave similar orders to his men. "Everyone, get ashore! Bring the spare food, the grills, and the first-aid kits from the ship! Hurry up! We need to get set up before those two idiots destroy all the good spots for a fire!"
"Yes, sir!" the veteran Marines shouted back, moving quickly. The young Marines who were fresh out of boot camp, however, were completely dumbfounded. Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing? they all seemed to be thinking, their sense of justice being seriously challenged.
And so, an absurd scene that the World Government would never report in the news began to unfold on the beach. On one side of the island, the earth was shattering and mountains were crumbling as Roger and Garp's battle reshaped the entire landscape. On the other side, bonfires were being lit, and the smell of roasted meat and alcohol filled the air.
Pirates and Marines, who were supposed to be mortal enemies, were now sitting around the fires together, their arms thrown around each other's shoulders.
"…So, you just get used to it," Spencer explained to a group of shocked newcomers, just as he had been doing for over a decade. "The captain and Vice-Admiral Garp have a very… special relationship. Their fights are both a clash between rivals and a greeting between old friends. If we interfered, we'd only make it worse."
Not far away, an old Marine was patting a young recruit on the shoulder. "Hic… Listen up, kid!" he slurred. "Vice-Admiral Garp says that he has to be the one to catch Roger, and he can't let that bastard starve to death before then! So… eat up! You need to be strong to catch pirates!"
"Y-yes, sir!" the recruit stammered. He nervously took a piece of roasted meat and glanced at the famous pirate with an 80 million Berry bounty who was clinking glasses with him. He could feel his entire worldview starting to crumble.
Jabba was arm-wrestling a burly Marine Rear Admiral, with pirates and Marines on both sides cheering them on. Max had cornered a Marine clerk and was loudly explaining his theories on the "relationship between Haki and the economic superstructure," causing the poor clerk's eyes to glaze over.
Kyle found a clean crate to sit on and watched the chaotic but strangely harmonious scene with a glass of orange juice in his hand. He looked up at the sky, which was now stained black and red from the clashing Haki, and felt the rhythmic tremors in the ground.
"Seriously," he muttered to himself with a helpless smile, "they always make such a huge mess. Who's going to pay to fix the island?" He shook his head and turned his attention back to the party. "Hey! Nozdon!" he shouted. "Don't drink all my orange juice! Save some for me!"
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