The counterattack Haymaker

Garp's fist came thundering toward him.

Before the fist arrived, the crack of bursting air struck first. Under that brutal pressure, the deck planks shattered inch by inch, spreading from beneath Garp's feet all the way to Lorne's!

Lorne's body moved faster than his mind.

He neither blocked nor dodged. Instead, he threw his entire body forward to meet it!

"Bam!!!"

The fist slammed squarely into the center of his chest.

In that instant, Lorne felt his internal organs crush together. His breastbone gave a terrifying, muffled crack, and both his feet left the deck.

He went flying.

But in midair, he actually started laughing.

"Ha... hahahahaha!"

His laughter exploded in midair, mixed with bloody foam, yet more brazen than ever.

"Bam!"

His back smashed into the ship's railing, bending the entire rail out of shape before it finally stopped his backward flight.

He clamped one hand desperately around the bent railing, forcibly anchoring himself in place.

Blood poured from his mouth, nose, and ears all at once.

But everyone's attention was drawn to the changes taking place in Lorne's body.

Something was glowing beneath his skin.

Golden light shone through his blood vessels, following their paths to form flickering patterns across his bare upper body.

Garp's punch had been so heavy that it had blown his Grit Gauge straight past its limit! The excess energy had nowhere to go and rampaged through his body, swelling his blood vessels until they glowed.

"Hiss-so fucking hot..."

Lorne looked down at the golden patterns on his chest and grinned.

That power churned violently inside him, almost bursting his body apart, but he held it down with sheer willpower.

He did not use that power to heal.

This time, he would put all of it into his punch!

"Kid."

Garp's voice came from a dozen or so paces away, carrying an anticipation even he had not noticed.

"Can you still get up?"

Lorne did not answer.

He released the railing, pitching forward and nearly cracking his head against the deck.

Then he raised his head and fixed his eyes on Garp.

"Old man."

"Didn't you just say that if you beat me to death, it meant I wasn't worthy of being your grandson?"

Garp raised his eyebrows. "I never take back my words."

"Perfect."

Lorne clenched his right fist.

Golden light surged from his knuckles!

The light carried a scorching heat, almost solidifying into tangible flames.

Driven by that wave of heat, the splinters and debris on the deck scattered in every direction.

"In my entire life-"

Lorne drove both feet down, stamping two deep pits into the deck beneath him.

"I've never bowed to anyone!"

He moved.

He pushed off with both feet, and the planks beneath him exploded into powder!

His figure vanished from the spot, leaving only an afterimage and a belated sonic boom.

For the first time, Garp's expression changed.

Fast!

More than one whole level faster than before!

This kid's explosive power could still rise?!

Lorne became a streak of golden light, charging straight at Garp.

His right fist was clenched, golden flames covering his entire arm.

Every bit of damage he had taken, every scrap of pain he had accumulated, and every overflowing point of Grit went into that one punch!

[Haymaker]!

Garp raised his right fist. Without using Haki, he punched straight at that golden light with nothing but raw physical strength.

"Come on, kid! Let me see your limit! Fist Bone..."

The two fists, one large and one small, collided violently in midair!

"Boom!!!"

Everyone's ears rang, and the world instantly fell silent.

Then savage shock waves spread wildly in every direction from the point where the fists met!

"Hold on tight!!!"

The chief petty officer's roar was swallowed by the wind and waves.

The Marines on deck were blown into a scattered, tumbling mess.

Those holding the railings fared better; only their clothes snapped in the wind, and their caps were blown away.

Those who had failed to grab hold were knocked flat, rolling several times before stopping.

The entire warship rocked violently on the sea, its hull groaning and creaking as though it might fall apart at any moment. Huge waves rose on either side, a full three stories high!

"The ship's going to capsize!" A recruit lay flat on the deck, his face turning green.

"It won't!" A veteran clung desperately to the mast, his teeth chattering. "Vice Admiral Garp's ship is specially built, with a Seastone keel... but isn't this a little too much?!"

At the very center of the collision, the two fists remained pressed together.

Garp's fist did not budge.

Lorne's fist did not retreat either.

Golden light and the force of the punch clashed furiously. Compressed to its limit, the air let out a piercing shriek.

Lorne's feet slid half a step across the deck.

He planted both feet firmly, his ten toes gouging deep furrows in the planks.

"Hrrgh!"

A beastlike growl forced its way out of his throat as he drove the last of his Grit into his right fist.

The golden flames swelled!

Garp felt it.

A force that should not have been there was pushing against his fist.

A teenage boy had taken a punch at thirty percent of his strength head-on, and could actually push him back?

"..."

Garp fell silent.

Then he withdrew his fist.

Lorne's punch hit empty air, dragging him two staggering steps forward and nearly sending him sprawling face-first.

As Garp withdrew his fist, the golden flames quickly vanished. Lorne went limp, the strength in his body seemingly drained in an instant, and dropped to one knee on the cracked deck.

He gasped for breath. Sweat mingled with blood and dripped from his chin, striking little pits into the planks.

The smoke and splinters on deck slowly cleared.

Sunlight shone through again.

Everyone saw a sight that nearly made their eyes pop out.

Lorne knelt on the deck, covered in blood and looking ready to collapse.

Garp stood opposite him, his right fist hanging at his side.

On that fist, a patch of skin the size of a knuckle had turned red.

Garp looked down at his fist.

His hand had been punched red.

A teenage brat had turned his hand-Monkey D. Garp's hand-red with a single punch.

"Hiss-"

Garp sucked in a sharp breath.

He raised his head and stared intently at Lorne, who knelt on the deck.

Although the power in the kid's last punch could not compare to his full strength, the "texture" of that power had made his heart skip.

It was not an ordinary physical impact.

It was a kind of energy he had never seen before.

Heavy, scorching, and... impossible to block completely.

He had met it with thirty percent of his strength. The instant their fists touched, he had felt the golden light "pass through" a small portion of his power, bypassing his defense and acting directly on his skin.

Although the damage was practically zero, that fact alone was enough to shock him.

Damage that ignored defense?

But this kid didn't have the slightest trace of a Devil Fruit about him.

"This kid... just where did he come from?" Garp muttered to himself.

In all his decades of life, what kind of monster had he not seen?

But today, he felt he had learned something new.

"Hey... old man..."

Lorne's voice reached him, faint as a thread.

Garp looked down.

Lorne knelt with his head hanging, his expression hidden.

But his right fist was still clenched.

"Did you... just hold back?"

Garp froze for a moment.

"If you held back..." Lorne slowly raised his head. His face was smeared with blood, but his eyes were frighteningly bright. "Then don't blame me for looking down on you."

On either side of the deck, the Marines who had just climbed to their feet were collectively dumbstruck.

"Is this kid crazy? Talking to Vice Admiral Garp like that?"

"Is he actually crazy, or did he get beaten stupid?"

Garp stared at Lorne for several seconds.

"You little brat."

He walked over and slapped Lorne on the head. It was not hard, but it still sent him stumbling.

"I did hold back."

Lorne's expression darkened.

"But not because you're weak." Garp crouched to meet his eyes. "It's because that punch of yours made the cut."

"The cut for what?"

"For me to seriously consider recommending you to that old fossil Sengoku." Garp picked his nose, looking utterly unconcerned. "With your strength and physique, throw you into the Marine Headquarters Elite Camp, and in six months you'd be at least a lieutenant commander."

"I'm not interested in becoming an officer," Lorne refused outright.

"Then what are you interested in?"

Lorne was silent for a second.

"Getting stronger."

"How strong?"

"Strong enough to send you flying with one punch."

Silence hung in the air for two seconds.

Garp's face twitched.

Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter, making the tattered canvas on the mast flap loudly.

"Hahahahaha! Big words! I like it!"

He stood, picked up the "Justice" coat he had tossed onto the deck, and draped it over his shoulders again.

"All right, I'll remember those words." He turned and headed toward the cabin, waving as he walked.

"We eat first, then keep fighting. Until we reach Mount Colubo, I'll beat you every day until you can take a punch at half my strength."

Lorne knelt on the deck, watching Garp's retreating back.

He looked down at his right fist.

The skin over his knuckles had been scraped away, exposing the red flesh beneath.

But he could see the wounds healing rapidly.

"Half his strength..."

He clenched his fist and grinned, his mouth full of the taste of blood.

"Just you wait, you old bastard."

The ship's doctor finally rushed over, scrambling to examine his injuries.

Lorne pushed him away.

"Thanks, but there's no need."

"What do you mean, no need? Your ribs-"

"I'm fine." Lorne pushed himself up off the deck and rolled his neck, his bones crackling. "Find me something to wear. The wind's damn strong on this lousy ship."

The military doctor stood with his mouth open, unable to close it for a long while.

The veteran beside him patted his shoulder, his face scrunched up like a bitter melon.

"Brother, don't waste your effort."

"This kid isn't human at all."