Marine Headquarters, Heroes' Cemetery.
This cemetery, situated beside the headquarters fortress and the "Mohawk" officers' residential district, was rarely disturbed. Aside from the Sea King's Bell, it was the holiest place in the Navy.
The slanting afterglow of sunset filtered through the trees and fell across the gravestones. The dim colors added to the cemetery's loneliness.
Standing before the gravestone, Dragon pushed the mask of his white CP0 suit and cloak up to his forehead and stood there silently.
After a long while...
"If the old man hadn't chosen to stop you back then, would you still have killed him?"
Dragon suddenly asked.
Ron wasn't surprised that Dragon knew what had happened that day. After all, Gild Tesoro possessed vast funds capable of shaking the world and was feared by every faction—not just the World Government, but the Revolutionary Army as well.
The World Government wouldn't convict someone without evidence of an incident that had left no trace. Dragon, however, didn't need evidence. Based on the little information he had and his understanding of Garp, he had leaped over the clues and deduced the answer directly.
Ron didn't hide anything. He shook his head. "Of course not."
Then he bared his teeth in a grin. "You should know me well, shouldn't you?"
"I've never been hostile toward anyone. It's just that whoever blocks my path has to die."
"Even Imu?"
Dragon pressed him.
"That's right!"
Ron silently lit a cigar. "I told you, this world doesn't need gods... He's too much of an obstacle."
Dragon nodded when he heard that.
"That's right. Gods and all that are too much of an obstacle."
Then he pulled his mask down and placed the bouquet in his hand before Garp's gravestone.
"At least judging by the result, the old man didn't misjudge you..."