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Chapter 29: Old Buddy
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 02:45:51 +0000 UTCUnder azure skies, an unnamed deserted island flourished with greenery. Clear streams wound their way out from deep jungle, flowing into pristine white beaches.
The Oro Jackson rested quietly in the bay while crew members worked in small groups, hauling barrel after barrel of fresh water aboard.
"Hey! You guys hurry up! Roger's gonna start complaining about not having any booze soon!" Gaban hefted two massive water barrels, striding with quick steps and a booming voice.
"We know, we know! Gaban-san's the most impatient one here!" Nozdon teased while he and Sunbell struggled together to carry an extra-large barrel, wobbling as they walked.
Kyle didn't join the hauling. He walked alone to a high rock on the island, closed his eyes, and let the sea breeze ruffle his black hair tied behind his head.
His "waves" spread out silently, sensing the island's pulse—the wind's direction, water's whispers, the breathing of creatures in the forest...
However, this tranquility was soon broken by a familiar, headache-inducing presence.
Kyle's golden pupils snapped open as he looked toward where sea met sky. A black dot was rapidly growing larger, and that distinctive, almost grinning dog-head figurehead was clearly visible even from miles away.
"Really... like a persistent ghost," Kyle sighed helplessly, though the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved upward.
Almost simultaneously, Rayleigh on deck also set down his drink, his gaze sharpening. "All hands, attention! We've got an 'old friend' coming!"
The crew instantly stopped their work, all looking in the direction Rayleigh indicated. Newer crew members like Erio paled when they spotted the warship.
"It's the Navy! And... that figurehead is... Vice Admiral Garp!"
"You've got to be kidding! Running into him in a place like this?!"
Unlike the newcomers' tension, veteran crew members like Gaban and Spencer wore subtle expressions that said, "Oh, here we go again."
Before anyone could react further, a figure launched skyward from the dog-head warship, cutting through the air with unstoppable momentum as he charged straight for the island.
Before the person arrived, that robust roar had already swept across the scene like rolling thunder.
"Roger—!! You bastard, I've finally caught you!!"
Roger, who had been standing with one foot on a water barrel directing the work, showed no tension upon hearing this. Instead, he flashed his trademark hearty grin.
"Gu ha ha ha! Garp! You always have such a unique way of saying hello!"
Before he finished speaking, Garp, in midair, had already clenched his fist. Jet-black armament haki spread like ink, and a terrifyingly destructive power gathered in his fist.
A clenched fist isn't an apology—it's a Galaxy Impact!
Kyle calmly observed: Starting with an ultimate move to show respect?
Garp, you bastard!
"Quit the chatter! Today I'm definitely dragging you back to Impel Down! Galaxy Impact!"
A massive spherical shockwave broke free from his fist, compressing and tearing the air along its path like an invisible meteor, ready to erase the entire island and the Roger Pirates from the map!
"Oh oh oh! No mercy at all!" Roger laughed heartily, showing no panic whatsoever.
He casually drew the blade at his waist—Ace—as surging Conqueror's Haki coiled around it, black-red lightning crackling along the blade.
"Want to catch me? Wait another hundred years! Divine Departure!"
The moment these two ultimate forces collided, the surrounding space seemed to freeze for an instant.
Then a silent, destructive force spread outward in all directions. The shockwave was split down the middle by Divine Departure, becoming two violent airstreams that rushed skyward along either side of the island, tearing two massive gaps in the clouds above.
"BOOM—!"
Garp landed heavily on the beach, creating a large crater. Without even glancing at the surrounding pirates, his gaze locked onto Roger as he grinned, showing his white teeth: "Not bad, Roger! Your haki's improved again!"
"You're not shabby either, Garp! Your fists are still as hard as ever!" Roger shouldered his sword, equally eager for battle.
The next second, both men vanished from their spots, becoming two blurred shadows that crashed together violently.
Terrifying shockwaves exploded outward with them at the center, making the entire island tremble violently. Countless birds took flight in panic while trees collapsed in swaths.
Their battlefield quickly shifted toward the island's interior, leaving only a series of deafening roars and occasional laughter from both men.
On the beach, pirates and the steadily landing marines looked at each other awkwardly, the atmosphere becoming somewhat embarrassing.
Especially the new crew members and young marines—all stood helplessly, unsure whether they should draw weapons or stay put.
"Um... Rayleigh-san," Elio nervously swallowed, "shouldn't we... help? The captain..."
Rayleigh calmly looked away, brushing dust off himself as he said to Spencer beside him: "Alright, stop watching. They won't stop for three days and nights. Spencer, take some people and bring down our best rum from the ship."
"Huh?" Erio and several other newcomers collectively turned to stone.
Meanwhile, a seasoned-looking naval officer with colonel's insignia was giving similar orders to his subordinates.
"All hands! Land and disembark! Bring the ship's emergency supplies, grills, and medical kits! Move it! Don't wait for those two idiots to destroy every place we could build a fire!"
"Yes, sir!" The veterans responded loudly, moving efficiently.
But the young Marines fresh from boot camp were completely dumbfounded, their faces showing the philosophical trinity of "Who am I, where am I, what am I doing?" Their sense of justice was being severely tested.
And so, the beach became the stage for an absurd scene that the World Government would never publish in any newspaper.
On one end of the island: earth-shattering, mountain-shaking chaos.
Roger and Garp's battle was completely reshaping half the island's terrain, with black-red lightning constantly clashing against pure violent force.
On this side of the beach, bonfires were lit, the aroma of grilled meat mixed with alcohol drifting everywhere.
Pirates and marines—two groups that should fight to the death—were now sitting shoulder-to-shoulder around the campfires.
"...So basically, you get used to it," Spencer adjusted his glasses, explaining to a group of stunned newcomers just like he had over ten years ago. "The captain and Vice Admiral Garp have a rather... special relationship. Their battles are both clashes between sworn enemies and greetings between friends. Our interference would only spoil the beauty of it."
Not far away, a veteran marine was patting a recruit's shoulder, slurring drunkenly: "Hic... Listen up, kid! Vice Admiral Garp said that before he catches Roger with his own hands, we absolutely cannot let that bastard starve to death on the road! So... eat! You need strength to catch pirates!"
"Y-yes, sir!" The recruit tremblingly picked up a piece of grilled meat, glanced at the pirate with an 80-million-berry bounty toasting beside him, and felt his worldview crumbling.
Gaban was arm-wrestling with an equally burly rear admiral, while surrounding pirates and marines cheered for their respective sides with earth-shaking roars.
MAX Marx had cornered a naval clerk, spitting as he expounded on "the relationship between haki and economic base as superstructure," while the clerk listened with glazed eyes, nearly fainting.
Kyle found a quiet wooden crate to sit on, holding a glass of orange juice as he watched this chaotic yet harmonious scene with interest.
Damn it, guys, the Five Elders set us up!
After drinking orange juice for over ten years, I can't live without it anymore!
He looked up toward the distant sky stained black-red by haki, feeling the rhythmic tremors coming from beneath his feet.
"Honestly," he muttered to himself, his tone full of helpless amusement, "making such a ruckus every time—who's gonna pay for this island's repair costs?"
He shook his head and turned his attention back to the feast before him, shouting to Nozdon, who was having a drinking contest: "Hey! Nozdon! Don't drink all my orange juice—save me some!"
