Up on the platform, Cain's little scheme was written so plainly across his face that there was no hiding it whatsoever. Even from a distance, Sabo could clearly see the smug gleam in his eyes, and he immediately felt a headache coming on.
Why was it that not a single one of his brothers knew how to behave?
Still, as he looked back at Ace and felt the pressure around him steadily rising, Sabo settled into a fighting stance and became serious.
'Perfect timing. Let's see how much you've improved lately, Ace.'
Unfortunately, Ace had an entirely different concern.
"Hey, you."
He glared viciously at Sabo, grinding his teeth.
"You were staring at my little sister just now, weren't you?"
"Huh?"
Sabo stared at him blankly.
Before he could even process the accusation, black-red lightning had already begun bursting around Ace. His Conqueror's Haki climbed rapidly, wrapping around his fist as flames ignited over his knuckles.
"Actually, now that I think about it, you've been staring at her ever since you got onto this island!"
Ace's expression grew increasingly furious.
"I can understand the other guys, but what the hell gives an old bastard like you the right?!"
He drew back his fist.
"Bone Fist: Peacock Plume!"
Ace opened with one of his strongest moves without the slightest hesitation.
It was a technique he had learned during his time training under Garp.
Bone Fist.
Yes.
Not Fist Bone.
Bone Fist.
Flames compressed rapidly around Ace, condensing into countless solid-looking fists of blazing fire. Heat rolled across the arena as the fist-shaped projectiles spread outward like the tail feathers of a peacock, densely packed and terrifyingly fast as they poured toward Sabo from every direction.
Sabo's pupils contracted.
Even he was genuinely startled by the speed and sheer number of attacks.
Down below, Smoker—who wasn't participating in this round—broke into a cold sweat the moment he saw the technique.
Because he knew Bone Fist too.
In fact, he understood it far better than Ace did.
The sight immediately dragged his memories back to the days when Garp first taught them the technique.
…
"With bodies like yours, practicing my Iron Fist: Fist Bone directly is completely unsuitable."
Back then, Garp stood in front of a blackboard with his arms folded and spoke with complete confidence.
Ace and Smoker sat side by side in front of him.
Ace immediately frowned.
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean, old man? You said you were going to teach us, and now you're backing out?"
Garp answered by punching him in the head.
"You idiot! Is that what I said?!"
Ignoring Ace, who was clutching his head and baring his teeth in pain, Garp turned around and tapped the blackboard.
"Yes, Logia users can turn into their elements, but the raw attack power of both of you is still too limited."
He pointed toward Smoker first.
"Smoker, at best you can choke somebody with smoke."
Then toward Ace.
"And you, Ace—people who use fire are everywhere in the New World. With flames that weak, you'd be more useful boiling water for my tea."
Ace's face darkened.
Garp slapped the board again and continued as if nothing had happened.
"On top of that, elemental transformation makes your bodies too dispersed. The moment you meet someone who knows Haki, all they need to do is catch the instant you spread your body over a large area and they can hit you directly."
His expression suddenly sharpened.
"That will become one of your most dangerous weaknesses."
Then his mouth curled into a grin.
"So what I'm going to do is turn that weakness into an advantage."
"Even while your bodies are transformed into smoke or fire, every part of you needs to become tough enough to withstand a direct blow."
He pointed dramatically at the board.
"That is the special training I created specifically for you two—"
"Iron Man: Bone Fist!"
Ace and Smoker looked at one another.
Neither understood a damn thing.
To be fair, Garp was the one teaching them.
Expecting verbal explanations alone to make sense had probably been optimistic from the start.
Garp stared at their blank expressions for a few moments before giving up.
"Forget it. You won't understand if I just explain it."
He waved one hand.
"Go find some Seastone. I'll let you experience it directly."
"Seastone?"
Smoker immediately lifted his jitte.
"I've got some right here."
Garp glanced at it, took the weapon from his hands, and snapped it in half without hesitation.
"AAAAH! MY WEAPON!"
Smoker screamed.
Garp looked at him and, apparently deciding that wasn't enough, punched him too.
"There's only a tiny piece of Seastone embedded in the tip! What good is that supposed to do?"
He threw the broken jitte aside.
"And if I ever see you taking something like this onto a battlefield again, don't tell people you're my student."
Then Garp's gaze drifted past the training ground toward the line of Marine warships anchored offshore.
The ships sat quietly on the water, rocking with the waves. There were fewer than ten of them, but they still represented a significant amount of combat power currently stationed in the area.
And naturally, as specially designed Marine warships, their hulls contained Seastone to deter large Sea Kings.
At the moment, however, every Marine was busy sweating through training onshore.
The ships themselves were practically empty.
Garp narrowed his eyes.
He stared at the vessels for several seconds.
Then his grin widened as though he had just discovered the greatest idea of his life.
Without saying another word, he happily ran toward the harbor.
Ace and Smoker watched.
Then, in full view of everyone—
Garp set one of the warships on fire.
"FIRE! SOMEBODY COME QUICK! THE WARSHIP'S ON FIRE!"
After personally starting the blaze and then personally helping extinguish it moments later, Garp planted both hands on his hips and burst into laughter.
"Bwahahahaha! There we go! Now we've got Seastone!"
Smoker nearly lost his mind.
"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BURN THE SHIP?! YOU COULD HAVE JUST USED IT AS IT WAS!"
Garp looked at him like he was the idiot.
"Obviously not! If we used it directly, we'd still have to tear apart the ship, wouldn't we? Then the whole thing would be ruined and nobody could sail it!"
He frowned.
"What if the Marines needed to go out to sea later and ended up in danger because they were short one ship?"
"You could just not use that ship!"
Smoker roared.
"Leave it abandoned in the harbor if you have to! So again—WHY THE HELL DID YOU SET IT ON FIRE?!"
Garp froze.
Then he punched one fist into his opposite palm.
"Oh! Right!"
Smoker stared at him.
Cold sweat rolled down his forehead as his fists clenched.
He silently swore that he was going to report this.
To Sengoku—
No.
Sakazuki was Fleet Admiral now.
Although, thinking about it more carefully, even Sakazuki probably wouldn't know how to properly punish Garp.
Deliberately destroying government property was obviously serious, but what could they really do?
Dock his pay?
There didn't seem to be anything in this world that genuinely frightened the old man.
And worse—
the warship had technically been destroyed for the sake of Smoker's training.
Which meant Smoker was involved.
An accomplice.
The realization drained all the strength from his body.
His knees gave out, and he collapsed helplessly onto the ground.
Then—
click.
A cold sensation wrapped around his ankle.
Smoker looked down.
He and Ace had been locked together by the same pair of Seastone shackles.
So that feeling of his strength disappearing hadn't been emotional after all.
It was the Seastone.
"Teacher, you—!"
"O-Old man, what the hell—?!"
Neither of them finished.
Garp grabbed Ace in one hand and Smoker in the other, carrying them like pieces of luggage as he strode toward the bottom of the recently extinguished warship, which was still trailing thin wisps of smoke.
The hull was lined with genuine Seastone.
Ace and Smoker looked up at Garp's carefree grin.
Both swallowed.
"Old man…"
Ace's voice trembled.
"What exactly are you planning to do?"
"I already told you."
Garp dropped them onto the ground and folded his arms.
"This is the Iron Man: Bone Fist training I developed specifically for you."
His tone remained perfectly matter-of-fact, as though there were absolutely nothing horrifying about what he was describing.
"The goal is to make every single bone in your bodies as powerful as these fists of mine."
"In other words, you're going to train every bone the same way I trained my Fist Bone."
Garp pointed toward the Seastone hull.
"You'll smash every part of your body against that."
Ace and Smoker stared at him.
Garp continued cheerfully.
"That way, even if someone hits your elemental body, not only will you be able to withstand it—you might even hurt them instead."
Then he grinned.
To Ace and Smoker, the expression looked several times more terrifying than any demon.
"The process will naturally be a little harder than ordinary Iron Fist training."
"And a little more painful."
"But the benefits are enormous."
He raised both hands.
"This is the advanced form of my Iron Fist: Fist Bone series—"
"Iron Man: Bone Fist!"
And that was the distinction.
Fist Bone meant a fist trained until it was as hard as iron.
Bone Fist meant turning every bone in the body into one of those fists.
The explanation had barely ended when Garp grabbed Ace and Smoker again, one in each hand.
Then, like a man swinging a pair of nunchaku—
he smashed both of them directly into the Seastone-plated bottom of the warship.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" ×2
Their screams echoed endlessly across the training ground.
…
Ace was still a pirate.
Although he had become one of the Seven Warlords and Garp was his grandfather, meaning Garp was willing to teach him to some extent, the old man was still a Marine at heart.
There were limits to how much of his true combat system he would pass on to Ace.
So Ace had only learned the surface of Bone Fist.
Fortunately, even that surface-level understanding was more than enough to be useful in real battle.
The person who truly inherited the essence of the technique and trained it until it became second nature was Smoker.
By now, Bone Fist had been practically carved into his skeleton. Every strike suited his body so naturally that the style might as well have been made specifically for him.
Smoker still couldn't match Garp's absurd destructive power, of course.
But he had undeniably become an Iron Man in the most literal sense.
…
Back in the arena, Ace's assault only grew fiercer.
The blazing fists poured toward Sabo in relentless waves, forcing him to evade again and again. Even when the attacks failed to land cleanly, the violent shockwaves generated by the passing fist projections were enough to drive Sabo backward several steps at a time.
Watching from below, Smoker folded his arms across his chest.
A satisfied look gradually appeared on his face.
Their suffering back then hadn't been wasted after all.