For seven days and seven nights, Garp strode across the raging sea. His body was like an unyielding reef that refused to sink, letting the towering waves crash against his bare chest and explode into sprays of white foam.
His gaze never drifted. It was fixed firmly on the distant horizon, where a deep crimson wall slowly rose from the line between sea and sky. It was taller than the clouds, vast enough to block the world's ocean currents.
The Red Line.
The spine of the world, the foundation of the Holy Land Mary Geoise, and the place the world called the domain of gods.
His direction never wavered. He walked straight toward the fortress that symbolized the highest seat of power.
When the colossal red wall finally loomed overhead and the monumental entry platform of Pangaea Castle came into view, the Holy Land was already at its highest state of alert.
The enormous alloy gates were sealed shut with absolute precision, like a piece of fallen sky. Atop the gate, several CP0 officers stood with featureless cold masks, their presence sharp as blades. Higher still, the fortress brimmed with artillery, every gun barrel shining with lethal intent.
The air on the platform was wound tight, stretched thin like a bowstring on the verge of snapping.
A towering column of water lifted Garp upward and set him down firmly on the vast platform, only a few dozen meters from the sealed gate of Pangaea Castle. He ignored the countless weapons aimed at him and the nervous eyes of the guards.
The tide receded under his feet, leaving wet streaks on the stone.
Garp stood shirtless. His scarred, powerful muscles gleamed in the sunlight like bronze reliefs. The simple military trousers he wore were battered by seawater and smoke, marked by the traces of battle.
His short gray hair stood upright like a field of steel needles. Droplets of water ran down the lines of age on his face and dripped onto the stone.
"Traitor Garp!"
The voice came from behind a white feathered mask worn by the leading CP0 officer, his tone like frozen iron from the depths of the ocean. "The sanctuary of the gods cannot be defiled. Lay down your rebellion and prostrate yourself on the ground. Accept judgment. It is the only way you can keep the last shred of your dignity."
Garp did not even bother to look at the Sacred Gate, nor at the masked figures shouting above it.
His steps did not pause. Instead, he walked steadily toward the edge of the massive cliff that formed the Red Line, as if measuring something quietly.
His heavy footsteps echoed across the stone platform.
"Strike him down!"
A superior CP0 officer's furious roar came from atop the gate. He could not tolerate Garp's utter disregard.
A dozen agents in black surged toward Garp like shadows, attacking from impossible angles.
Darkened steel flashed. Silent air blades sliced forward. Enchanted arrows flew with lethal speed.
Garp did not turn around. His steps did not falter.
"Too noisy."
Boom!
It was as if a silent divine force had descended. Stronger and purer than anything he unleashed at Enies Lobby, a surge of overwhelming Conqueror's Haki erupted from within him.
The world seemed to freeze for a heartbeat.
Then a spiritual tidal wave exploded outward.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The CP0 elite had barely reached Garp before an invisible hammer struck each of them. Their eyes rolled back, foam spilling from their mouths as they collapsed like marionettes with their strings severed.
They never even stood a chance.
Even those trying to attack from afar staggered, clutching their heads in agony, barely able to stand.
The senior officers above the gate were also forced back. Their expressions beneath the masks twisted in shock.
This was power that crushed authority itself.
Garp ignored them entirely. He reached the edge of the platform and stopped.
Below him was a bottomless ocean, roaring and foaming.
Ahead of him towered the ancient Red Line cliff, a sheer wall of crimson rock thousands of meters tall.
He turned around, facing the sealed gates of Pangaea Castle and the agents who guarded the will of the World Government.
His right arm rose slowly. Hardened like volcanic stone and covered in scars, his fingers spread wide before curling into a fist.
There was no glowing energy. No distortion of space.
Yet the ground trembled underfoot from the raw force radiating from that fist.
Garp's gaze sharpened like blades of steel, piercing through the gate as if aiming directly at the ones hidden behind it.
"You parasites inside, pretending to be gods. Listen closely."
His voice rolled across the platform like muffled thunder, echoing into every corner and drowning out the wind.
"I am Monkey D. Garp. I spent my entire life doing your dirty work. I chased Roger to the ends of the earth until my legs nearly broke just to keep you comfortable in your gilded throne rooms."
His fist shifted, no longer aimed beyond the gate, but toward the cliff beneath the platform.
"But tell me… how did you treat my grandson?"
The roar that exploded from him cracked like furious thunder.
No one harms his family.
A violent blaze rose in Garp's eyes, hot enough to burn everything it touched.
His fist slammed forward.
Boom!
It was the same devastating physical pressure as before, but sharper, heavier, more focused. It ripped through the air, not by cutting it but by sheer, unstoppable kinetic force.
The blow struck several hundred meters below, right into the Red Line's impossibly dense rock.
There was no flashy explosion.
Only a deep, bone–vibrating crack, like ancient stone that had weathered millions of years finally being crushed past its limit.
Crack crack crack… then a thunderous roar.
A massive fracture tore across the cliff face, more than a hundred meters long.
Then countless more fractures shot outward like a spiderweb.
Millions of tons of red stone, compressed over geological ages, broke free in a cascading landslide and plummeted into the sea with a deafening roar.
A pillar of smoke and seawater exploded upward, nearly blotting out the sun. Even the Holy Land above shook violently.
Everyone on the platform struggled to stay standing. Dust and debris scattered across the edge like rain.
CP0 officers clung to weapons and walls, terrified as they stared at the gaping wound in the cliff. Horror filled their eyes.
Deep within Pangaea Castle, five robed figures watched the scene through a video transponder snail. The Five Elders, the supposed pinnacle of global authority, all stiffened. Their expressions shifted sharply into shock, fear and disbelief.
The dust finally settled, revealing a monstrous gouge torn from the earth itself. Seawater surged in, striking the raw stone with furious force.
Garp slowly lowered his fist. There was no pride on his face. Only a cold, quiet stillness.
He looked through the giant gate once more. His voice was not loud, but carried with unnerving clarity over the crashing waves.
"This is only a warning."
His eyes were like twin blades cooled in ice.
"Next time, it won't be just the edge of your cliff that I break. I will strike the very center of the Red Line and turn this place into a graveyard beneath the sea for ten thousand years."
He paused, then raised his voice in a final declaration that shook the platform and the castle walls.
"Listen well. As of today…"
"I, Garp…"
"Am officially retired from the Marines."
"All your twisted rules hiding behind the word justice…"
Garp snorted.
"Go to hell."
"Tell Sengoku that my pension…"
His mouth curved into a wild, unrestrained grin.
"Should be just enough to patch up this big hole."
Without another glance at the stunned guards, Garp stepped backward off the cliff and plunged into the raging waters below.
Boom!
A towering column of water burst into the sky like a blooming giant lotus.
When the spray finally fell, the sea was empty.
All that remained was the shattered cliff, silently mocking the world's supposed power.
On the platform before Pangaea Castle, silence swallowed every soul present. Even the wind of the Holy Land carried the scent of blood, gunpowder and something else.
Betrayal.
And warning.
A single brass button from a Marine uniform, its shine long faded, rolled across the rubble and dust before coming to rest at the platform's edge.