The Warhammer Bro Had Gone Quiet

Skypiea, God's Island.

Following the orders of Thunder God Barzeb Seven, the Skypiea Council, led by Gan Fall and Calpa, was distributing land among the people.

The strongest warriors of both tribes had all been conscripted by the Thunder Cloud Guards to maintain order at the scene.

Of course, the Thunder Cloud Guards answered only to the Thunder God.

Even though Seven could easily wipe out all of Skypiea by himself, he still kept the military firmly under his control to avoid any unnecessary trouble.

Seven hadn't come to Skypiea to kill anyone. He'd come to find a quiet place to cultivate in peace, away from interference by the World Government and the Navy.

While the land distribution proceeded in full swing, Thunder God Seven practiced his punches alone in front of the Poneglyph.

To awaken Armament Haki on his own, Seven imitated Garp's training method, punching the Poneglyph with his bare fists.

They said Garp had once trained by smashing eight mountains with his bare fists, without using Armament Haki. After he had smashed all eight, one punch from Garp had flattened Chinjao's pointed head.

Ever since deciding to buy the Iron Balloon, Seven had too few points left to buy Armament Haki or Observation Haki.

Unless some big spender with points to burn like the Warhammer Bro came along and bought the most expensive Impact Dial.

But the odds of that were practically zero.

After all, the system's buyback price for Captain Roger's Paired Saber, Ace—one of the Supreme Grade Swords—was only ten thousand points.

And Seven had set the Impact Dial's price at the same amount. He was all about making points off big spenders.

In front of the Poneglyph.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Seven swung his bloodied fists, punching the Poneglyph again and again.

Training was a dull, tedious process, especially when all Seven could think about right now was: Why hasn't the Warhammer Bro placed an order yet?

"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine..."

"Ten thousand..."

After twelve hours of effort, he'd completed his training for the day: three laps around Skypiea, ten thousand punches, ten thousand push-ups, and ten thousand kicks.

Seven was drenched in sweat, and his face and arms were even covered in patches of dried salt.

But it was all worth it if it made him stronger.

If he wanted to choose his own path in life, to live freely and do as he pleased without being bound by anyone, then he had to become strong.

Because the weak had no right to choose.

They never had.

On the evening of November 1, Seven washed up and lay on his bed, his eyes tinged with helplessness. The Warhammer Bro still hadn't placed an order.

Late the next night: the Warhammer Bro still hadn't placed an order.

The morning of the third day: still no order.

The fourth day, early morning.

Seven sat alone atop the palace of Thunder God Palace, watching the sun rise over the horizon.

"If I remember right, the next major event should be the Navy's Buster Call on Ohara, two years from now."

Seven held the scholars of Ohara, Nico Robin's homeland, in genuine respect.

They were a bunch of scholars who were foolishly adorable.

In a world where the government used bans to conceal the history of the Void Century, Ohara's scholars had chosen to stand with humanity's instinct to seek knowledge and with the cause of historical justice.

Just as Dr. Clover had cried out in his final moments: "We must pass the truth of history down to future generations!"

They were clear-eyed martyrs.

They knew the danger, yet still chose to touch the world's deepest secrets. It wasn't because they were reckless, but because their conscience and duty as historians made it impossible for them to turn a blind eye to a century of history being concealed.

It was like how, when you were younger, you couldn't understand why Daiyu cried. But when you finally understood, tears streamed down your face.

Only by understanding the history that had been erased could you truly respect it.

"I should still go there when the time comes."

Even if he couldn't save anyone, he could at least move the books inside the Tree of All Knowledge somewhere safe.

Whatever the World Government opposed, Seven would support.

As a former member of the Roger Pirates who had once reached Laugh Tale, Seven was naturally at odds with the World Government.

Seven gathered his wandering thoughts and continued his day-after-day training on Skypiea.

East Blue, Foosha Village.

East Blue's reputation as the Weakest Sea had a lot to do with Garp, who came from Foosha Village.

After escorting Roger to Loguetown for his execution, Garp had followed his usual routine and patrolled East Blue, dealing with every pirate who dared to show his face before returning home.

He planned to get some proper rest.

After chasing Roger for most of his life, Garp felt hollow now that Roger was suddenly gone, as if half his spirit had been taken from him. A faint sense of bewilderment rose in his heart for no apparent reason.

Garp hadn't forgotten Roger's request when he'd visited him in Impel Down.

To keep it under wraps, Garp decided to sneak off to Battila Island in South Blue in a while and find Roger's wife, Portgas D. Rouge.

But the moment Garp stepped into his old house in Foosha Village, what he saw left him completely dumbfounded.

A pregnant woman with pink hair, freckles, and a very large belly was sunning herself inside his old house.

"What?!"

"You're Dragon's wife?"

Apart from his good-for-nothing son Monkey D. Dragon, Garp couldn't imagine who else would bring a pregnant woman to live in his old house.

The woman stood up and smiled. "I could be."

"You could be?" Garp was stunned.

If she could be, then she wasn't.

A flash of insight suddenly struck him. Garp hurriedly shut the door and whispered, "Rouge?"

Rouge nodded.

Garp drew a sharp breath. "Wait, shouldn't you be in South Blue right now?"

Roger had been very clear about it, and Garp remembered perfectly: Battila Island, South Blue...

Rouge poured Garp a cup of tea. "Three months ago, Rog—he had someone bring me here."

"Who?" Garp asked quickly.

"Barzeb Seven."

At that, Garp scratched his head. "I think that name sounds familiar."

Rouge prompted him. "He has white hair."

The face in Garp's memory suddenly came into focus. He muttered, "That white-haired brat who's an amazing cook."

As if remembering something, Rouge returned to her room and brought out a letter, which she handed to Garp.

"He left this for you."

Garp took the letter, opened it, and read.

"To the great Hero of the Marines, Vice Admiral Garp."

"At Mr. Dragon's request, I've brought your daughter-in-law, Portgas D. Rouge, to your hometown. Mr. Dragon has named your grandson Ace. For Ace's future, please don't tell him who his father is."

"If you don't like the name Ace, you can change it to something else. I suggest Luffy."

"You wouldn't want the World Government to learn that this child's father is the leader of the Revolutionary Army, would you?"

After reading it once, Garp deliberately looked up at Rouge. "He told you too?"

Rouge nodded.

"And you agreed?"

Rouge nodded again.

Garp thought for two seconds, then lowered his head and read the letter word by word several more times. Only then did he understand what it was really saying.

[Old Man Garp, Ace is your biological grandson.]

[Stop bringing up Roger.]