Randall's speed caught Garp by surprise.
He realized that his earlier estimate of Randall's strength had been wildly off.
How was this the kind of strength an Elite Camp trainee should have?
That burst of speed would rank pretty high even among Vice Admirals!
While he was still stunned, Randall's fist slammed into his chest.
A dull thud echoed across the Training Ground.
Under everyone's astonished gazes, that punch drove Garp back!
He stumbled five or six steps before regaining his footing.
A clear fist-shaped indentation now marked the clothes over his chest.
"Bwahahaha! Not bad at all!"
Of course, Garp was completely unharmed. The punch had simply exceeded his expectations, and he had been driven back because he reacted too late.
Sengoku frowned and said,
"That strength doesn't exactly match your description, Zephyr."
To him, that punch had been pitifully weak.
Hadn't Garp only taken a few steps back, even though he had been caught off guard?
Granted, making Garp retreat even a few steps was already an incredible feat.
But it was still nowhere near enough!
Zephyr said with unruffled composure,
"Keep watching. Stay calm. Don't rush."
Seeing that Garp was completely fine, Randall shook his head helplessly.
These powerhouses had monstrous physiques. His punch had probably done little more than make Garp feel something.
But he quickly grew serious, because he felt a presence lock onto him.
Every hair on his body stood on end.
"I gave you a free punch. Now it's my turn!"
Garp's eyes gleamed as he knocked his fists together, then vanished from where he stood.
Randall's pupils contracted, and he moved to defend himself, but a fist beat him to it and struck his chest.
Bang—
The sound was sharper than before.
Garp had expected that punch to send Randall flying.
Yet