Breathing!

"Creak!"

"Creak!"

"Creak!"

As he walked across the soft snow and passed one snow-covered pine after another, Garp's perfect control over his strength left only a faint trail of footprints behind him in the white Deep Forest.

Snowflakes drifted down, and within moments, the footprints behind him had disappeared.

Following the Aura he had sensed with Observation Haki a few minutes earlier, he made his way through the snow-white forest. At some point, the surroundings had grown eerily quiet, and the trees had become increasingly massive.

Garp glanced helplessly at the baby in his arms from time to time. Those bright, curious eyes were fixed on him. The feeling of being examined inch by inch with Observation Haki was simply awful.

But there was nothing he could do. He couldn't exactly push back against the baby's Aura with his own. If he did, the consequences would be something he didn't want to see.

As time dragged on, he could only keep increasing his pace. Half an hour later, he reached a hollow in the mountains and knocked on a wooden door at the base of a massive tree about ten meters in diameter.

Knock, knock, knock!

"Who is it?"

As soon as he knocked, a gruff, weathered woman's voice called out. Footsteps approached, and the door opened with a creak.

The head of a fashionably dressed, crop-top-wearing old woman appeared through the crack. Fine wrinkles lined her forehead, and she wore a pair of stylish glasses.

She frowned as she looked at Garp outside.

Then the door opened wider, and cold air swept into the room. The woman lowered the Surgical Knife glinting in her left hand and pursed her lips coldly. "I was wondering who it was. Turns out it's you, you little punk.

What do you want?"

The next second, a dark blur flashed past. Garp jerked his head up to dodge a whip-like kick, then immediately retreated.

He looked helplessly at the overly energetic old woman who had just kicked again. His face was full of exasperation, but he still tried to placate her.

"Big Sis Dolier, what are you doing? I haven't offended you in years!"

Dr. Kureha withdrew her right leg and fell silent for a moment before cursing, "Who told you to probe me with Observation Haki? And who said you could call me Dolier? Also, if you don't want me to keep beating you up, stop using your Observation Haki."

Garp's face stiffened. He scratched his head sheepishly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

Kureha frowned. "Then why are you still using it?"

At that, Garp couldn't help looking down at Mercer in his arms. His eye twitched as he met Mercer's curious gaze, and he smiled wryly.

"Big Sis Dolier, you've got it wrong."

"This little guy is the one using Observation Haki."

"You think I'm an idiot—" Kureha cut herself off, surprised. "This little guy?"

As she spoke, she stepped forward and took Mercer from Garp's arms with her left hand. She touched Mercer's forehead with her right index finger, looking even more astonished. "Now that's strange."

Kureha looked up and met Garp's somewhat anxious gaze. Her brows knit together, though curiosity crept into her voice.

"This little guy's quite interesting. He's perfectly healthy, but his Aura makes him seem like he's on the verge of death. That's certainly strange.

It's abnormal, very abnormal. It doesn't feel like an illness, either. It's as if... as if he's been cursed by something."

On this vast sea, Devil Fruits weren't the only source of strange powers. In certain hidden places, there were all sorts of bizarre forces.

Things like priestesses. Things like prayers.

The longer you lived, the more you saw. Kureha had encountered a few things that seemed like curses.

As for Garp, he had spent half his life traveling the seas and had the Marines at his back. He had seen some strange things, too.

For example, that peculiar seahorse he had released into the sea after entering the Grand Line.

"Eeya, eeya." Mercer saw another familiar face. Looking at Kureha and comparing her to the past ten days of his life, he felt a little helpless.

"So I really have come to this world."

"One Piece"

A fantastical world of swords and guns, blood and fire.

All kinds of dazzling Devil Fruit abilities clashed. The original timeline was full of joy, adventure, and romance.

But that was only how things looked from the perspective of the main characters. The truth was that countless heroes and forces vied for power, regimes rose and fell, and the whole world was a dangerous, chaotic "era."

Human life was worthless.

To live in peace was the greatest gift from heaven.

A paradise for the strong.

A hell for the weak.

By then, Kureha had carried Mercer into the Treehouse, with Garp following behind her. The house, built by hollowing out the tree's trunk, was very warm.

Sitting cross-legged on a folding operating table, Kureha teased Mercer's fair cheek with her finger as she spoke to Garp.

"I can't figure out what's going on with this little guy's body, but for now, he doesn't seem likely to die. To be sure, I'll need to observe him over the long term. You can take him away if you want."

Garp drew a breath, his gaze clouded. He had known Kureha when he was young; they had been acquainted for almost thirty years. Though they didn't see each other often, Kureha had truly saved his life. She was an old friend.

"Then I'll leave Mercer with you. I'll come visit him whenever I can. I'm sorry for the trouble, Big Sis Dolier."

Kureha snorted with amusement. "Do you think this place is a dump? You just dump a mess on me without a second thought? This brat probably isn't even yours.

He doesn't look like you at all."

Her tone turned casual. "You haven't forgotten my rates, have you?"

The moment Garp showed up, Kureha knew there was a big job in it for her. She didn't get many chances to fleece a rich client.

Especially not a shameless one like Garp.

Garp's eye twitched. He knew he was about to pay through the nose. "I haven't."

"I'll have someone bring you half the supplies from my battleship."

Garp said it with a pained look.

Kureha nodded, giving Garp a look that said he knew how to behave, then continued.

"That's not enough. I heard Vegapunk is working for your Government now. Bring me a copy of his latest research on life design—that is, the research data on 'Lineage Factors.'

I need it. I suspect something might be wrong with this little guy's own Lineage Factors. Bring it to me as soon as you can."

Without giving Garp a chance to object, Kureha's expression turned cold. "'The goods' have been handed over between us. Now you can get lost."

Garp sheepishly picked his nose. Just as he was about to flick the booger away, he noticed Kureha staring at him as if he were a dead man. He gave an awkward laugh. "I haven't flicked it."

"Get out." Kureha pointed at the wooden door and barked, "Get out now. Don't make me angry."

Garp smiled helplessly and muttered, "You're getting on in years, but your temper's still so explosive. No wonder you've never managed to get married."

Whoosh!

A glint of cold steel shot toward him, reaching within ten centimeters of his pupil in the blink of an eye. Garp jerked his head aside to dodge. The next instant came a soft thunk as a Surgical Knife sank completely into the wall of the Treehouse.

Garp left.

He fled in a panic.

But he did leave Kureha with a name: Mercer's full name.

"So, after just ten days, I've been handed off to someone else again?" Mercer stared blankly at the wooden ceiling.

[Merit Points +1]

"Waaah!"

In the middle of the night, a baby's wail rang out. An old woman grumbled as she put on her clothes and got up to change a diaper.

Nothing special about it. You got used to it.

During the day, wearing dark circles under her eyes and drinking Plum Wine to stay alert, she carried Mercer to Big Horn Village nearby for a checkup.

And to find milk for Mercer.

There were lots of people there, so milk wasn't in short supply.

In the blink of an eye,

Sea Year 1501, January 10.

A little fellow about a year old, wearing a fluffy white Laboon hat, was carried along the snowy street by the straps of his overalls by a fashionably dressed, crop-top-wearing old woman.

She held him like a garbage bag, occasionally glancing at him with a look of utter exasperation.

"Mercer, didn't I teach you?" Kureha said with a disgusted look. "Be sweeter with your words. If you're sweet, you'll get good food."

Swaying back and forth, Mercer felt his brain sloshing around. He slurred, "Mama Dolier, that lady looks so ugly. She's not as pretty as you, so I can't say it. I can't be sweet."

"Tch!" At the word "Mama," Kureha's eye twitched. She lifted Mercer and glared at him. "You little brat, you sure know how to flatter me. But it won't work. And don't call me Mama. Call me Doctor Doriel."

"Auntie?" Mercer tilted his head at the fierce old woman in front of him. "Do I have one?"

Her blood pressure rose.

Her temples throbbed.

Kureha rolled her eyes, stung by the remark and exhausted. She didn't know what she had done in a past life to deserve this, or why she had agreed a year ago to treat the little brat for that bastard Garp.

Every night, he had to pee and poop. Couldn't he just wet the bed and soil his pants? Did he have to wake her in the middle of the night so she could hold him over a pot and wipe his bottom?

Still, thanks to that, she hadn't had to wash any diapers.

So, in a way,

it was cause for celebration.

At nearly a hundred and twenty years old, she was experiencing the joys of motherhood for the first time.

In less than six months, the little brat had learned to speak simple words. By now, he knew more than eight hundred characters and could already "communicate" with her a little.

After a year of observation and treatment, Kureha had made no progress at all with Mercer's "problem," though she had gone through quite a few expensive medicinal herbs.

At least half of them had been used on the little brat.

But Garp and the Marines were a big enough backer, so supplies weren't a problem.

The one thing worth celebrating was that the little guy's physical fitness was already on par with that of a healthy, strong adult.

No, rather, the kid was exceptionally gifted. He'd had a physique no worse than an ordinary person's since birth.

Pursing her lips and drinking, Kureha quietly watched Mercer with Observation Haki.

She studied the little guy's breathing closely. It was an interesting breathing style she had discovered some time ago.

Most babies used it when they were first born.

Diaphragmatic Breathing.

Kureha had found it interesting and investigated it before, but in the end, she hadn't gotten anywhere.

She had found that as babies grew up, this kind of breathing gradually changed into chest breathing.

But now,

after a year of careful observation and occasional comparisons with adult patients, Kureha had been taking notes every day. She had worked out a set of key points for practicing Diaphragmatic Breathing based on Mercer.

So far, there were three:

1. As you exhale, contract the abdomen below the navel. The diaphragm rises, the chest contracts, and stale air is pushed out from the bottom of the lungs.

2. As you inhale, slowly draw fresh air in through the nose until the lungs are full. The diaphragm lowers, and the abdomen expands.

3. Both inhaling and exhaling should be slow and deep, reaching down to the lower abdomen, with the abdominal muscles taut and firm.

Combined with highly nutritious beast meat, it was very good for the body.

Switching between chest and abdominal breathing was troublesome. Changing from one instinctive pattern to another made even Kureha feel very uncomfortable.

But even though she had only recently made the switch, Kureha had already experienced some benefits.

She had more energy than before, and her kidney function had improved as well.

"Cough, cough, cough!" As she walked through the snow, Kureha suddenly started coughing, her face turning red. "Damn it, I got my breathing mixed up. This fucking Diaphragmatic Breathing."

She glanced again at Mercer, who seemed to use Diaphragmatic Breathing instinctively, and Kureha was at a loss for words.

The kid really was different.

Just then, Mercer's sweet voice rang out. "Doctor Doriel, I told you not to drink so much while walking, but you didn't listen. See? You choked."

Kureha wiped the wine foam from her lips and snorted. "You little brat, you think you can boss me around? You're a hundred years too early."

"That's true. Mama Dolier is over a hundred years older than Mercer. I can't argue with that."

Mercer dangled from Kureha's hand, suspended in midair as he spoke in a babyish voice.

Kureha's eye twitched. Smiling without a trace of warmth, she said, "I'll cook you a pot of tonic soup when we get back. Remember to drink it all."

The so-called tonic soup was a stew of vegetables and minced meat, with some nourishing herbs Kureha had prepared herself. It was suitable for a one-year-old child.

Nutritious, strengthening, and easy to digest—but awful to eat, both bitter and astringent.

As for why she made a whole pot, it was because Kureha had discovered that Mercer's digestive system was extraordinary.

It was completely on par with an adult's.

That was one of the benefits Diaphragmatic Breathing brought.

"Can you add sugar?"

Seeing Kureha ignore him, Mercer sighed helplessly. His head, hands, and feet drooped limply as she carried him along by the straps of his overalls.

Mercer didn't notice the slight curve at the corner of Kureha's mouth.

Merit Points: [375]

Closing the light screen in front of me, I felt like I was clocking in for work. I could earn one Merit Point every day.

What a pity.

New writer, new book!

Please add it to your collection! Please recommend it! Please invest! Please keep reading!

The author came up with the relationship between Garp and Kureha after giving it some thought. It's a headcanon.

Kureha really does know Roger's full name. She might know about D, and some details suggest she may have been acquainted with Roger.

From there, I extended the connection to Garp. Kureha has lived long enough that it wouldn't be strange for her to know him.

No need to take it too seriously. Also, thanks for reading! Please don't insult me; I'm soft-hearted and can't take criticism.

PS: [Legend Status]: Each level of Legend Status grants a certain number of Merit Points per day, depending on the situation.

(Ordinary person) Unknown: +0/day (A blade of grass—an insignificant nobody.)

(Well-known figure, with a bounty in the tens of millions. Captain rank) Somewhat Famous: +5/day (Some people know you exist.)

(Bounty in the hundreds of millions. Supernova) Rising Star: +15/day (Famous enough for people to talk about you.)

(Shichibukai. Yonko First Mate. Elite Vice Admiral) Renowned: +25/day (Your name is widely known across the seas.)

(Emperor. Admiral) Influential Figure: +50/day (Every appearance is enough to shake the world.)

(A figure recorded in history) Legendary: +100/day (Even if your name is erased, it will be passed down from generation to generation.)

＊Quality Grades: F-E-D-C-B-A-EX (conceptual/above demigod)

＊Each quality rank has three levels: for example, F-/F/F+

PS: Plus and minus aren't extra quality ranks. They refer to the entry-level, standard, and peak stages within each quality rank.