Garp's Iron Fist Was Caught in One Hand by Me

The air was compressed by that iron fist into visible white shockwaves.

The piercing sonic boom tore through the gale. The air pressure crashed onto the steel warship's deck like a collapsing wall of steel.

A towering man wearing a dog-headed Marine cap leaped down from midair.

His white Marine coat of justice whipped wildly in the wind. His uniform collar hung open, and an old scar across his chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

The man raised his right arm high. His fist was wrapped in dense Armament Haki, black like pig iron freshly pulled from a blast furnace.

Monkey D. Garp.

Garp forcibly twisted the angle of his descent in midair.

He had originally been heading after Rocks's flagship. But the moment he broke through the clouds, he caught sight of this pure steel monstrosity preparing to slip into the reef zone.

His beastlike instincts told him something was wrong with it.

A warship without a scrap of wood not only stayed afloat, but operated smoothly in the hands of a band of pirates. It was a hundred times more dangerous than Roger's junk of a ship.

Garp did not want to leave any loose ends. He decided to smash this iron shell first.

Before the force of his punch even landed, the seawater around the warship was violently forced aside. A massive circular crater dozens of meters wide sank into the sea's surface.

The air on deck turned into solid lead.

Katakuri bore the brunt of it. Already wounded, he was pinned hard against the iron deck by the force of the punch.

His freshly bandaged wounds instantly split open. Blood dyed the white bandages red, running down his powerful muscles and dripping onto the deck.

His kneecaps cracked under the unbearable strain.

Katakuri bit through a bit of flesh in his mouth. The taste of blood filled his mouth. He wanted to straighten up, but his legs refused to obey. His knees slammed heavily into the Wapometal, leaving two shallow dents.

Beside him, the black bread in Cracker's hand was compressed into a flat cake by the shockwave.

His chubby body rolled twice across the iron deck before crashing into the railing at the edge. Clutching his stomach, he did not even have the strength to retch, only able to suck in cold air in huge gasps.

More than a dozen subordinate captains were sprawled flat on the ground. Some bit their lips to shreds, blood mingling with cold sweat as it streamed down.

Rektol did not dodge.

His boots screeched against the deck. He raised his head and watched the iron fist descend like a black meteor.

The wind pressure plastered his short pink hair tightly to his scalp, tugging at it until it hurt.

Deep inside the left side of his chest, the first heart suddenly contracted.

"Thump!"

The sound was dull, yet it drowned out the wind.

A violent two-hundred-million-volt current exploded in an instant. Blue-white lightning raced over his shoulder and coiled around his chubby right arm.

The air immediately filled with the sharp stench of ozone.

Inside the right side of his chest, the second heart began to beat immediately afterward.

"Thump!"

A high-intensity gravitational field was forcibly compressed. The gravitational pull that had been spreading outward was tightly clenched within his right palm.

The air around his fingertips warped, blurring the light.

His three-year-old body endured the extreme strain of two Devil Fruits.

Two thin streams of blood seeped from Rektol's nostrils. It flowed to his lips, fishy and metallic with the taste of rust.

He did not even furrow his brow.

His waist suddenly twisted with force. His right arm shot straight upward to meet the falling iron fist.

"Bang!"

One large hand and one small hand collided without any flourish.

Garp's sandbag-sized black iron fist and Rektol's tiny hand, too small to even wrap around one of Garp's fingers, locked firmly against each other in midair.

A dead silence for one-tenth of a second.

No sound emerged.

Then, a violent shockwave exploded outward from the two of them.

The Wapometal deck beneath Rektol's feet let out a shrill wail.

The half-meter-thick special steel plating caved directly downward, forming a massive shallow crater ten meters across.

The surrounding sheets of iron twisted and tore like pretzels. Thick brass rivets shot everywhere like bullets. Several rivets punched through the bridge's cabin door, leaving black holes that let light through.

Rektol did not retreat even half a step.

His legs seemed nailed into the steel plate. The soles of his black military boots melted under the high-temperature lightning.

The soles of his feet pressed directly against the scorching iron deck. Burnt flesh sizzled in the air.

The gravitational field forcibly bled away most of the kinetic energy in Garp's iron fist. The remaining destructive force was held back by the violent lightning.

Garp remained in his downward-striking posture, his whole body suspended in midair.

His eyes were wide, bloodshot veins crawling over his eyeballs.

His mouth hung open, his jaw nearly dropping to his collar.

The indestructible layer of Armament Haki over his fist had actually been torn open by the blue-white lightning.

The heat traveled straight along his finger bones and into his muscles.

Garp felt as if his entire right arm had been thrust into an ironmaking furnace. Numbness, soreness, and searing pain all surged through his nerves toward his brain.

This was a fucking three-year-old?!

Garp gritted his teeth. The veins on the back of his hand bulged high like coiled green snakes.

He wanted to press down with more force, only to discover that the pink-haired little monster beneath his fist was still pouring out strength without end.

That repulsive force grew stronger and stronger, forcibly pushing his fist upward by half an inch.

"Marine Hero."

Rektol spat out the bloody froth in his mouth. Blood streaked his teeth.

"Is that all you've got?"

His right arm's muscles spasmed violently beneath his skin from overexertion. Waves of cramping pain stabbed into his core.

Yet his expression remained cold enough to freeze. He did not look strained in the slightest.

Garp sucked in a breath.

The old man could not help but curse.

"Where the hell did that bastard Rocks dig up this freak?!"

Garp pressed his left hand against his dog-headed Marine cap, which had nearly flown off.

He had just been about to use the rebound to pull back, open up some distance, and hit the brat again from another angle.

Before Garp could withdraw his fist.

From the direction of the island's center beyond the horizon.

Three terrifying auras suddenly erupted into the sky.

Dark red, black, and golden Conqueror's Haki shot straight through the thick lead-gray clouds like three pillars of light.

Three enormous rifts tore open across the sky. Sunlight spilled through them, shining over the rolling sea.

The air was no longer merely thick. It solidified, then shattered. Glasslike cracks spread through midair.

Garp's movement abruptly froze.

He whipped his head around toward the center of the island.

Rocks's saw-like maniacal laughter carried over from tens of thousands of meters away.

It was mixed with Roger's wild roar.

And a dazzling golden light flickered in the form of a great Buddha. The Marine strategist Sengoku had clearly already airdropped into the heart of the battlefield.

The three overlords collided head-on without any probing.

"Rumble—"

The ground of God Valley let out a hair-raising muffled roar.

Rektol felt the seabed beneath his feet shaking violently. Vast swathes of white foam bubbled up from the sea as if it were boiling.

Forests across the distant island collapsed in swathes.

The entirety of God Valley, beginning from its central region.

Was forcibly split apart by a bottomless grand canyon.

Tons of earth and ancient giant trees hundreds of meters tall tumbled into the fissure like trash. Seawater poured madly through the crack, throwing up a sky full of mist.

The meat-grinder-like melee had begun.