That night, beneath an ink-black sky, Gern stood at the bow.
Black Blade: Eight Desolations hung at an angle from his waist, its grayish-white bandages fluttering in the wind as he gazed out at the dark sea.
Suddenly, steady footsteps sounded behind him. Garp emerged from the cabin and walked up beside Gern, giving the bag of senbei in his left hand a shake.
"Want some?"
Hearing his voice, Gern glanced sideways, reached for a cracker, and took a bite.
"Vice Admiral Garp, go ahead." Gern swallowed the senbei, his tone calm. "You came to pick me up because of what's happening between Kuzan and me, didn't you?"
"Yeah." Garp nodded. For once, he did not burst out laughing, instead leaning against the railing with a rare air of seriousness.
"I was on vacation in the East Blue not long ago and didn't turn on my Den Den Mushi. I only heard about it recently."
With that, he looked at Gern's profile, his brow creasing slightly. "Gern, are you and Kuzan really... going to fight?"
Gern did not answer immediately. He simply chewed his senbei, his gaze still fixed on the distance.
Unaware of the truth, Garp knew only one thing.
His personally trained disciple and his other pupil were about to fight to the death over an Admiral's position!
At the thought, Garp's fist tightened slightly, his knuckles turning white.
He had been through too many battles and seen too many comrades turn against each other over conflicting allegiances.
But this time, it was the two young men he valued most...
"Can't you avoid fighting?" Garp asked quietly, a rare hint of pleading in his voice.
Gern fell silent for a moment. In the end, he decided not to tell Garp the truth and gave a self-mocking smile instead.