Your view is too narrow, Grandpa

Garp didn't look at Kahn. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon.

His voice was no longer loud, lacking the deafening roar from before.

He was like an ordinary grandfather asking whether his grandson had stolen candy from next door.

Kahn picked up a small stone from the ground and weighed it in his hand.

"So what if I did? So what if I didn't?"

"Does it matter?"

Kahn shot back.

Garp abruptly turned his head.

A sharp glint flashed in his tiger-like eyes, like two blades.

"Of course it matters!"

"Do you know what you've done? That was Mary Geoise! The Celestial Dragons' nest!"

"You beat Borsalino, burned a corner of Pangaea Castle, and let so many slaves escape!"

"That's declaring war on the World Government! That's courting death!"

The more Garp spoke, the more worked up he became, spittle flying everywhere.

"Those old bastards in the Five Elders have already gone mad. They've named that 'Calamity' their number one threat."

"If they find out that person was you—just a nine-year-old brat like you..."

Garp paused.

The old man who was always so cheerful actually showed a trace of fear.

It was the fear of losing his family.

"Not just you. Roger's bloodline, that bastard from the Revolutionary Army's bloodline, all of Foosha Village, the entire East Blue..."

"They'll all be finished."

"A Buster Call would be the mild option. They'll wipe this place straight off the map."

Garp's hands trembled.

Those Iron Fists that had once driven Roger into a corner were now tightly gripping his knees.

Kahn looked at the old man who had worried himself sick over his family.

The little bit of irreverence in his heart receded somewhat.

He really was afraid.

Not of dying, but of being unable to protect us.

Kahn tossed the stone in his hand.

Whoosh—

The stone streaked through the air in a straight line and pierced a seagull a hundred meters away.

The unlucky bird did not even have time to cry out before it became a cloud of blood mist.

"Old man."

Kahn brushed the dust from his hands.

"Do you think I'm the kind of idiot who charges off to die on impulse?"

Garp froze for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"It means I know what I'm doing."

Kahn stood and stretched into the sea breeze.

Golden energy flowed through his spine like mercury, making Kahn feel so comfortable he wanted to moan.

"I went to Mary Geoise not to show off, nor for some bullshit justice."

"I only went to confirm something."

"To see what the so-called 'world's greatest fighting power' was really worth."

Kahn turned around and looked down at Garp.

"The result was very disappointing."

Garp's mouth twitched twice.

He wanted to curse.

But when he remembered that this brat had taken his Conqueror's Coating without a scratch, he swallowed the words.

"The result was very disappointing."

Those words were like a loud slap across Garp's old face.

The sea wind howled.

It stirred up towering waves.

Garp did not fly into a rage.

Instead, he suddenly fell quiet.

That silence was more unsettling than his earlier roar.

He reached up and grabbed a handful of seawater-soaked hair. His eyes, usually carrying a hint of carefree irreverence, were now as deep as a dry well.

"Disappointing?"

Garp repeated softly.

"You think beating one Borsalino gives you the right to be disappointed in this world?"

The old man stood up.

At that moment, he was no longer the comical old man who loved rice crackers, nor the boisterous Marine vice admiral.

He was the man who had chased Roger around the world.

He was the legend who had shattered Chinjao's skull with one punch.

He was a mountain.

"Kahn, you're too arrogant."

With the sea at his back, Garp's broad figure seemed capable of blocking out even the sunlight behind him.

"What do you think you've seen?"

"What you saw was only the tip of an iceberg above the water. It doesn't even count as a tip—at most, it was a speck of ice."

"Eight hundred years."

Garp held out eight fingers and waved them before Kahn.

Those fingers were rough, covered in calluses and scars.

Every scar was a bloody chapter of history.

"This World Government has ruled for a full eight hundred years."

"Over those long years, how many monstrously gifted freaks have appeared?"

"Rocks D. Zebek."

At the mention of that name, Garp's eye twitched.

He had been the craziest enemy Garp had ever encountered.

"That madman wanted to become king of the world. Whitebeard, Kaido, Charlotte Big Mom... gathered beneath him. That lineup could flatten Marine Headquarters ten times over today."

"And what happened?"

"He died in the battle at God Valley. Not even his bones remained."

Garp raised another finger.

"Roger."

"Your biological father."

"He conquered the Grand Line, learned the history of that hundred years, learned the meaning of D., and was called the One Piece."

"And what happened?"

"He chose to surrender, using his death to usher in this runaway era."

Garp's voice grew increasingly heavy, carrying an indescribable oppression.

"Even Whitebeard, known as the 'World's Strongest Man,' can only guard his little patch of the New World now, playing godfather to a bunch of unwanted orphans."

"You think it's because they weren't strong enough?"

"No."

"It's because that colossal thing runs too deep."

"So deep that you can't see the bottom."

Garp pointed at the Red Line beneath their feet.

"There are more bones buried beneath it than fish in the sea."

"Those old bastards in the Five Elders—do you think they're just decorations sitting in the halls of power?"

"And the things hidden in the shadows..."

Garp did not continue.

But the wariness in his eyes said everything.

It was not fear of strength, but reverence toward some unshakable set of rules.

Even a Marine hero as strong as him had to learn to bow before that power.

He had to learn to wear a dog collar and uphold a justice he did not like.

That was reality.

Naked and bloody.

Kahn listened very carefully.

But there was still little change in his expression.

He even felt an urge to laugh.

The old man was giving him a lecture.

Using a history of blood and tears to teach his grandson that, to survive in this world, he had to keep his tail tucked.

Unfortunately.

That might work on natives of the One Piece world.

It might even work on members of the Clan of D.

But it would not work on him.

Kahn looked at his palm.

Sunlight fell across his palm lines, and every line gleamed.

Every cell in his body was cheering, greedily devouring the Sun's energy.

Power.

An endless supply of power.

As long as the Sun remained, as long as he could still breathe, there would be no end to his growth.

What Haki?

What Devil Fruit abilities?

What Ancient Weapons?

Before that absolute Bio-Force Field, before the monstrous strength capable of moving planets, they were all flashy little tricks.

Why had Roger lost?

Because he was human.

Humans grew old, fell sick, and died.

Even if one trained Haki to its peak and could split the sea with a single slash, one was still made of mortal flesh.

Why had Rocks lost?

Because he was human too.

No matter how powerful his Conqueror's Haki, he could not stop time's erosion or prevent betrayal from all sides.

But Kahn was different.

He was a seed from Krypton.

As long as he was given time.

Even if the main cannon of that so-called Pluton blasted him head-on, it would be nothing more than a scratch.

He did not need to search for One Piece.

Nor did he need to start some revolution.

He only needed to stay alive.

Bask in the sun, eat some food, and occasionally beat up a few Celestial Dragons too blind to know better for amusement.

Until that day came.

Until his body of steel was fully perfected.

He would become the only truth on these seas.

What eight hundred years of accumulated power?

Before the radiance of a star, even darkness that had existed for ten thousand years would have to obediently retreat.

"Old man."

Kahn interrupted Garp's thoughts.

He pulled out the half-eaten apple from his pocket and took a crunchy bite.

Juice splashed everywhere.

"After saying all that, aren't you just trying to tell me that there's always someone stronger?"

"Aren't you saying there are a few ancient monsters living up in Mary Geoise that even you don't dare provoke?"

Garp froze.

"You know?"

Kahn chewed on an apple and said indistinctly:

"Those five old men who spent all day striking poses."

"Some carried swords, some leaned on canes, and they went around talking about 'the balance of the world,' but they were really just the Celestial Dragons' senior butlers."

"The Five Elders."

Garp's pupils suddenly contracted.

That name was not exactly a secret on the seas, but for a nine-year-old brat who had never left the East Blue, it was absolutely forbidden knowledge.

"How did you—"

"Don't rush. I'm not done yet."

Kahn swallowed the apple and held up one finger, wagging it.

"Besides those five old fossils."

"There was also a group that usually stayed out of sight and specialized in doing all the dirty work, right?"

"They seemed to be called something like..."

Kahn pretended to think, tapping his temple twice with a finger.

"God's Knights?"