The oppressive atmosphere in the Fleet Admiral's Office did not last long...
After emptying Sengoku's stock of senbei, Garp laughed it off and slipped out under Sengoku's murderous glare.
With a pocket full of senbei, he wandered around the headquarters building for a while, only to find himself feeling rather bored.
Aokiji was dozing in his office, Kizaru had slipped off somewhere to slack off again, and Sengoku was still fuming...
Garp scratched his head, turned on his heel, and headed toward headquarters' Elite Training Camp.
At this hour, that old fellow should have been there.
Shouted chants and the dull thuds of bodies colliding filled the Training Ground at Marine Headquarters.
Although certain concerns had prompted Sengoku to start restricting the Training Camp's size and resources, whether deliberately or otherwise, it remained the cradle of the Marines' future hopes.
Zephyr stood at the edge of the field with his arms folded, watching the young Marines sweating through their drills like an iron tower.
His gaze was sharp, and he periodically barked out instructions or corrected their movements.
Though he had stepped down as an Admiral, his passion for training new blood for the Marines had never waned.
"Zephyr!!" Garp's booming voice reached him from far away. Grinning, he walked up beside his old friend and casually offered him a handful of senbei.
"Here, just swiped these from that cheapskate Sengoku. Have some."
"Been picking on Sengoku again?" Zephyr glanced at him and accepted without ceremony, stuffing a few crackers into his mouth. His eyes remained on the Training Ground as he said indistinctly, "From the racket earlier, his office sounded ready to explode."
"Hahaha! Nothing much. That brat Gern just sent him another 'big present.'" Garp laughed carelessly and brushed the crumbs off his hands.
At the mention