"Ow, Little Tsuru, my old injury's acting up. Must be the wounds I suffered when I fought that old madman Shiki earlier," Garp suddenly cried out, clutching his chest.
The pained expression on that old face of his made it look as though he was practically dying from agony.
Watching this sudden development, even Sengoku and Tsuru froze.
They had personally witnessed the battle with Shiki half a day ago. As far as they knew, Garp probably had not thrown a single punch.
And now he was suddenly crying out in pain? Was his inner actor taking over?
However, as seasoned old hands, they instantly understood when they saw the utterly unsubtle look Garp was giving them.
Tsuru hurried forward, grabbed Garp by the arm, and said solemnly, "This is bad. Garp's internal injuries have flared up. We need to have someone take him back for treatment immediately."
"It seems the so-called Hero Garp really is getting old."
Really getting old?
Those inexplicable words made the atmosphere even more awkward.
Even Sengoku, who was usually so stern, had his cheek muscles twitching.
Watching Garp's inner actor take over, it felt like the title of Iron Fist was being ground into the dirt.
"Cough, cough. I seem to be a little exhausted too. Catching Shiki's floating island just now must have shaken my internal organs. Can someone get me some soba noodles to treat my stomach? Otherwise, I'll get dizzy and see stars," Fujitora's deep voice rang out at just the right moment.
Watching him roll his eyes and put on an even worse performance than Garp, everyone's faces could not help twitching.
"Haha, Brother Fujitora, now that you mention it, I almost forgot. Bullet punched me in the chest seven or eight times, and I still feel like coughing up