It was just a chill wave of his hand, like swatting away a fly buzzing near his ear.
'Get lost before I change my mind and toss you overboard to feed the fish.'
Even though he didn't say the words out loud, the look in Zaraki's eyes was clear as day, making Ace choke back his messy feelings at the casual brush-off.
He took one last look at the guy blocking everyone's path, staring at a back that wasn't wide but looked like it could hold up the sky right then.
Skipping any sappy goodbyes, Ace turn around and used his healed arm to yank the mooring rope free.
The small sailboat was already ready to go, surging forward with the ocean current and jumping through the water like a flying fish to cover over ten meters in a flash.
"Trying to escape?! In your dreams!"
A roar that sounded like it blew up from his chest rolled across the sea like thunder.
Zaraki narrowed his eyes, staring right through the salty sea wind.
On the deck of the warship hundreds of meters away, the old man in the oversized suit with two pieces of rice cracker stuck to his chest was stomping through the ship's railing with a rage that didn't fit his age at all.
Garp didn't even look at the toy-like boat running away in the distance, his eyes locking right onto Zaraki and the escaping Ace behind him.
"Bogard! Get the cannonballs! The extra-large ones!"
At his yell, a bunch of marines rushed onto the deck, sweating bullets as they dragged a massive chain.
A huge, solid black iron ball hung at the end of it, thudding hard against the deck every time the ship swayed and sending shivers down the spines of anyone who heard it.
'Is he going to sink the whole damn Windmill Village pier?'
Zaraki's lips twitched as he felt the heavy tension in the air, noticing the villagers behind him had stopped begging and were just chattering their teeth instead.
In the peaceful East Blue, a show of violence on Garp's level was pretty much a natural disaster for normal folks!
"Hey, old man, is this your so called 'Fist of Love'? This is more like a meteor strike!"
Zaraki didn't flinch, standing firm even though the wooden pier under his feet felt wobbly from years of rotting in the seawater.
The sea breeze whipped through the hair on his forehead, but it couldn't put out the golden light rising in his eyes.
Right then, Ace's ship had barely made it a hundred meters.
If that hit wasn't stopped, the beat-up little boat would get smashed into floating coffin wood out on the open sea.
"Here it comes!"
With another miserable scream from Luffy, Garp grabbed the chain hooked to the iron ball with one hand from the far deck.
Right then, the old man's arm muscles blew up like balloons, his veins popping out like twisting worms.
"Get back here, you brat!"
There were no fancy tricks, just raw power.
The massive iron ball tore loose, leaving a white shockwave behind it as it flew straight at Ace's small ship and Zaraki with a heavy roar, looking like a black death star.
The huge shadow blocked out the sun, making Ace turn back in pure panic while pulling the sails as his pupils shrank to tiny dots.
The iron ball grew huge in his vision, the wind pressure making it tough to even breathe.
'There's no escape from this.'
Just as Ace started to feel hopeless, a guy who gave off a wild energy flashed in the corner of his eye.
Zaraki stood right at the edge of the pier facing the iron ball that could wipe out a small fort, lowering his center of gravity.
From this close, Zaraki could hear the sharp whistle of the iron ball tearing through the air, the heavy force giving him goosebumps.
But it wasn't fear at all.
The Kenpachi Zaraki template shook hard as his blood boiled, feeling his body's raw urge roaring to cut down something worth slashing!
'This is it.'
Zaraki gripped the harmless broken wooden stick with both hands, having picked it up by the road to replace the one he broke earlier.
Breathing tricks? Not needed.
Skill? Didn't need that either.
All he had to do was let loose this crazy urge to slash, throwing the whole weight of his soul into one explosive breath!
Right before the giant iron ball could level the pier, the golden light in Zaraki's eyes blew up, his whole body turning into an erupting volcano.
A heavy choking spiritual pressure rushed out of him, crushing the air around them into solid walls!
"Haaahhh!!!"
Gripping the stick with both hands, he swung it down with raw force at the incoming black meteor.
Even though he was just holding a dead branch, the second he swung, a glowing golden sword pressure showed up like a crescent moon, rushing up with enough power to wipe out everything in its way.
Boom—!!!
A massive explosion shook the sky as the golden sword pressure crashed hard into the black iron ball in mid-air.
The giant cannonball, made of tough steel, broke into two neat halves against that force, like a sharp blade slicing right through tofu.
A wild shockwave blew out from the hit, pushing out to churn the seawater into huge waves over ten meters high.
The force that should have smashed Ace got shoved away by the explosion, the heavy recoil and rushing air slamming hard into the sail of the small boat.
"Waaaaaaaah—!"
Ace's scared scream got swallowed by the wind and waves.
Pushed like God just slapped it, the small sailboat threw its bow high into the air and almost flipped over, but the force shot it right through the coastal blockade like an arrow, making it vanish into a tiny black dot in a flash.
Smoke blew up, and mist covered the sky as Zaraki stood at the end of the pier, still stuck in his swinging pose.
The dead branch in his hand turned to dust from the hit, leaving only splinters stuck to his palm.
A numb feeling pulsed through his grip, and a few drops of blood dripped from his fingers, which was the price his normal body paid for pushing out that monster power.
But he was smiling, because that feeling of his heart pounding hard and every cell begging for more was just addictive!
The sea breeze blew away the leftover smoke, showing the front of the incoming dog-headed warship where the pissed-off Garp had gone totally quiet.
The old vice admiral stayed frozen in his throwing pose, the anger in his eyes under his messy white hair gone and replaced by a sharp stare.
He looked at the young guy standing on the broken pier, empty-handed but giving off a wild aura, like he just found a rough diamond or some baby monster prodigy!
In the dead silence, you could only hear the warship cutting through the waves and feel the heavy weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air.
The sharp smell of gunpowder mixed with the nasty fishy smell of blown-up sea life, making a gross cloud around them.
Zaraki opened his palm to let the fine wood dust scatter in the sea breeze, drifting down onto the busted pier.
His hand felt numb, the muscles near his thumb still twitching without him wanting them to.
'Still pushing myself too hard.'
Even though the Kenpachi Zaraki template gave his soul insane, wild power, his sixteen-year-old body was still just a regular shell.
That attack wasn't really a technique, just him shoving spiritual pressure into that weak branch and blowing it up.
It was like shooting a huge cannonball out of a cheap iron pipe, making it pure luck the pipe didn't blow up in his face.
Out on the Grand Line, the kickback from a hit like that would probably be a few times stronger.
A shadow dropped over them as the giant warship parked across the shallow water instead of docking, almost blocking the small pier.
Then, a massive guy jumped from the deck that was over ten meters high.
It didn't sound like a human landing, sounding more like a damn T-Rex stomping onto some thin ice!
The rotting pier groaned under the crazy weight, tons of cracks shooting out like spiderwebs from where the guy hit the wood.
Zaraki felt the wooden boards under his feet buckle hard, making seawater shoot up through the gaps to soak his pants as the old man in the dog-headed mask stood up straight.
Facing Monkey D. Garp up close was way scarier than watching him throw a fit from hundreds of meters away on the ship.
The old man didn't leak any killer intent on purpose, but just standing there made the air feel thick and heavy, pushing down on a guy's chest like a solid weight to prove why he was the Marine Hero and a living legend.
"You brat..." Garp picked his nose and flicked some gross booger into the sea, his giant eyes looking Zaraki up and down before stopping for a second on the kid's splintered hands.
"Who taught you that move?"
If this was some normal pirate or thug, they'd probably drop to their knees under that stare, but Zaraki's blood just pumped faster, feeling a wild thrill rise up at facing such a badass fighter!
"No one taught me," Zaraki said, shaking his hand to get the feeling back in his numb nerves while sounding as chill as if he were talking about the weather.
"I picked up a stick by the road, didn't like the look of it, so I chopped it down."
"Picked up a stick... and chopped it down?" Garp's eyebrow twitched twice, like he was trying to figure out if Zaraki was full of shit.
Right then, a gray figure landed without a sound right behind Garp.
It was Bogard, Garp's right-hand man.
The quiet guy who always kept his hat brim pulled low was staring hard at the two halves of the iron ball floating on the sea, lost in his own head.
The cut was clean and smooth, looking almost like a mirror, like it got polished by a flash of heat from friction.
There wasn't a hint of Haki or any Devil Fruit powers, just pure, raw strength mixed with some kind of willpower.
Bogard looked away, his eyes moving past Garp's wide shoulder to land on Zaraki's young but fearless face.
For a rare second, a bit of emotion showed in his eyes hidden under the hat shadow as he stepped up, dropping his voice to a whisper right by Garp's ear.
Even with the sea wind blowing, Zaraki's sharp ears caught bits of the quiet talk.
"...monster... physical body... raw..." Bogard paused and then raised his voice a bit, like he wanted Zaraki to hear it on purpose to make a point.
"Vice Admiral, this raw destructive power, if guided right, could carry the weight of 'Justice' itself, and with time, he might even pass up Headquarters'..."
The three monsters.
The future Three Admirals of the Navy.
Zaraki raised an eyebrow, thinking this praise was high, showing that his earlier strike really shook up this master swordsman.
It made sense, though.
In the East Blue, which was known as the weakest sea, watching some kid split a warship's cannonball with a wooden stick was enough to blow anyone's mind.
Hearing his guy's thoughts, Garp paused in surprise before throwing his head back and busting out his classic loud laugh.
"Pwahahaha! Bogard, you've got a sharp eye for talent!"
Garp reached out his massive hand and clamped it right down on Zaraki's shoulder.
In that split second, Zaraki felt like he was getting crushed by an industrial press.
The old man's strength was insane!
Even though there wasn't any bad blood behind the friendly pat, it almost popped half of Zaraki's body out of joint.
"Ouch, damn... Old man, are you trying to murder me?" Zaraki grimaced, struggling to break loose but finding Garp's grip like a vice.
"Since that brat Ace ran off, I can't go back empty-handed!"
Ignoring Zaraki bitching about the pain, Garp leaned in close, his eyes shining like he just struck gold—or like a big bad wolf staring at a helpless rabbit.
"Hey, you little punk! Wasting your strength on being a pirate or a mountain bandit is a shame! Since you call me 'Grandpa' (even though Zaraki never actually did, Garp just decided on that himself), you're coming with me to Marine Headquarters!"
"Huh?" Zaraki froze.
'This isn't how the plot's supposed to go! Didn't I just help his grandson run away? Why is he trying to recruit me out of nowhere?'
"What's with the 'huh'? This is a chance tons of folks would kill for!" Garp roared with laughter, grabbing Zaraki by the arm and dragging him toward the ship like a fresh trophy.
"Don't even think about running! Your hand's still numb from that last swing, right? Right now, you couldn't break free from even one of my fingers!"
As Zaraki got dragged around, he caught a look at Bogard staying put, the quiet man still standing at the edge of the busted pier.
Bogard rested his hand on the handle of his sword.
He wasn't looking at Garp or the retreating Zaraki, but just staring hard at the spot where Zaraki stood a second ago—where a faint but super clear crack cut right down into the sea.
That wasn't a mark left by a heavy object, It was a clean sword slash!