No wonder he was called "Iron Fist Garp."
With nothing but his fists, the old man had roamed the world and struck fear into countless pirates.
Throughout his life, he had chased Roger around the world, fought Whitebeard, captured Golden Lion, and brought down the legendary Rocks Pirates.
Before that, he had fought countless pirates and arrested countless others whose names had already vanished from history.
Now, though he had grown old, his almost transcendent combat skills, like his Haki, had been honed to their utmost limit.
Those ordinary yet extraordinary fists were his greatest weapons.
Kuta might look relaxed now, but after forming the Space Blade, he could no longer fight Garp in person.
After all, his stamina had dropped considerably.
If he went over now, even with the spatial pressure in place, he would have no real way to stop the old man from ignoring Zankū and Shusui and attacking him directly—unless he stood still and let Garp hit him.
Wouldn't that just make him a punching bag?
Better not.
Sipping a little liquor and watching the show like this was pretty good, too.
He had gotten the training he needed. After fighting for a full day and night, that was enough, wasn't it?
"Old man, do you still want to fight?"
At this point, aside from watching the old man demonstrate his almost transcendent combat skills, there was really no reason to keep fighting.
Clang!
Garp crossed his arms to block the blades shooting toward him. His body sank amid a thunderous crash, and he raised his head to look at the youth sitting in midair like a true god.
"Ah..."
He sighed inwardly.
Coming here this time, he had indeed seen what power Kuta had used to kill Carteles.
To him, that thing felt more dangerous