"Boom!"
The enormous body crashed back into the sea, sending up waves three stories high, making more than ten times the commotion Garp had when he fell in earlier.
Bitter, salty seawater mixed with dead fish and seaweed poured down over their heads.
Standing on the pier, Garp and Bogard never even thought to dodge. Their minds were blank, unable to send any commands to their limbs.
Seawater ran down Garp's graying temples and dripped into his wide-open mouth, so salty it tasted bitter.
Meanwhile, Bogard's Marine cap hung crookedly from his ear.
"Smack."
A crisp slap rang out across the deathly silent docks.
Garp blinked. Feeling the burning sting in his cheek, he turned a somewhat dazed look toward his adjutant. "What are you doing?"
Bogard stared blankly at his own palm, muttering, "Vice Admiral, does it hurt?"
"Of course! My face is swollen!"
"Good... if it hurts, this isn't a dream..." Bogard's voice trembled, carrying a hint of a breakdown. "Sixteen... the basics of Color of Arms and Color of Observation Haki... plus awakened Conqueror's Haki... Vice Admiral, are you sure this really is your adopted grandson, and not some Ancient Weapon that's come to life?"
Garp wiped the water from his face. This time, he did not laugh, but a fire burned in his eyes.
He whipped his head around toward the boy slowly turning in the mist.
Lin Xuan shook the droplets from his hair, still wearing that infuriatingly nonchalant expression.
He raised a hand and fanned away the fishy smell before his face with some distaste. "This thing's pretty handy as a fan. Just a bit hard on the throat."
A fan?
Using Conqueror's Haki as a fan?!
"You little brat! Do you have any fucking idea what that just-" Garp roared and started to charge forward, only to swallow the rest of his words.
He grabbed the still-stunned Bogard beside him, his eyes bulging like brass bells. "The Den Den Mushi! Quick! Bring me my Den Den Mushi! I need to call Sengoku! If pirates find out about a prospect like this, what place will the Marines have left on these seas?!"
"Didn't bring it... I think water got into it when we fell in..." Bogard was becoming incoherent. Looking at Lin Xuan, he suddenly slung an arm around Garp's shoulders, shuffling through strange dance steps and mumbling, "A genius... no, a monster... I've taught a monster..."
Looking at the two high-ranking Marines who had lost their minds before him, Lin Xuan sighed helplessly.
Looks like that dose was a little too strong.
"Lin Xuan."
A gentle yet trembling voice came from the entrance to the pier.
The imposing air around Lin Xuan instantly dissipated. He turned to see Makino standing there with a neatly folded stack of clothes in her arms.
The sea breeze had tousled the ends of her hair, and her usually smiling eyes were slightly red. Clearly, she had witnessed everything that had just happened.
She did not ask what that terrifying lightning was, nor why the Sea Beast had suddenly fainted.
The clever tavern owner knew some things did not need to be investigated.
She understood only that the boy before her, who had once needed her care, had grown beyond what Foosha Village could contain.
"Are you leaving?" Makino's voice was soft, yet it carried clearly through the sound of the waves.
Lin Xuan was silent for two seconds before nodding. "Yeah. I want to leave now, while those two old fellows are still losing their minds."
If he did not leave now, things would get troublesome once Luffy woke up, or Garp came to his senses and tried to drag him back to Marine Headquarters.
Kenpachi Zaraki's path had been forged through deadly battles. Marine Headquarters did not suit him.
"Everything's ready." Makino stepped forward and handed Lin Xuan the clothes: several hard-wearing, coarse-cloth outfits, with a bag of Beli and a package of freshly roasted jerky tucked inside. "The little boat's tied up behind the rocks. It's not big, but it should get you to Loguetown, the nearest town."
Lin Xuan took the bundle, his fingertips brushing Makino's slightly cold fingers.
"Thank you, Makino."
"Promise me one thing." Makino looked up and straightened his windblown collar. "Don't tell Luffy you left on your own. Just say... Grandpa Garp sent you away for special training. Otherwise, that boy will cry."
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."
Lin Xuan took one last look at Garp, who was still pulling at Bogard's face while Bogard pulled at his, and a mischievous smile curled his lips.
Once that old man realizes I've slipped away, he'll probably blow up half the docks again.
Without further hesitation, he turned and leaped off the pier, landing lightly aboard the single-masted sailboat prepared behind the rocks.
He untied the mooring line and raised the sail.
The sea breeze filled the sail, pushing the little boat swiftly toward the deep-blue distance.
Lin Xuan sat cross-legged at the bow and pulled out the flask of rum he had swiped from the tavern. He uncorked it, tipped his head back, and took a swig.
The fiery liquor slid down his throat, kindling heat in his blood.
Foosha Village grew smaller behind him. Even from so far away, Garp's thunderous roar remained faintly audible. "You little bastard! Who said you could sneak off! Get back here and become an Admiral!"
Lin Xuan did not look back. He merely raised his flask toward the gradually blurring coastline.
"An Admiral? How boring."
He gazed at the unknown sea ahead, fighting spirit burning in his eyes.
"Since I'm here, and since I've got this template, let's set a little goal first."
Lin Xuan touched the ordinary long blade at his waist.
"First, I'll cut down the strongest on these seas, one by one."
Chapter 12: A furious roar: The Marines' honor and the recruits' edge
The News Coo seemed to sense the oppressive atmosphere hanging over Marineford and did not dare linger. It hurriedly dropped its heavy leather pouch through the window of Marine Headquarters' mailroom, then flapped its wings and fled toward the clouds high above.
Marineford, in the highest-level war room of the Marine Headquarters building.
There was no howling sea breeze here, only suffocating, deathly silence.
The scent of premium cigar tobacco mingled with the bitter aroma of strong tea, but rather than offering relaxation, the two smells combined like a fuse waiting to ignite.
"Just yesterday, the Goth Kingdom sent a level-one distress signal."
The adjutant delivering the report spoke loudly and clearly, yet the knuckles gripping his documents had turned white from excessive force.
He did not dare look up at the figures around the round table, people he normally only saw in newspaper headlines. His gaze remained fixed on the report in his hands.
"The attackers have been confirmed as the 'Treasure Hunter,' Baron of Revelry Trejer, and his pirate crew. The Goth Kingdom's Royal Guard collapsed on all fronts in the initial engagement. According to survivors, Trejer used his Chain Devil Fruit powers to crush the entire port city's fortifications and three warships."
The adjutant swallowed, his voice dropping an octave. "By the time reinforcements from our nearest branch arrived, Trejer had already looted the treasury and made his escape. The branch lost his trail."
"Bang!"
With an explosive crack, the long conference table, made of hard Seastone, shuddered violently.
The adjutant trembled all over, nearly losing his grip on the documents.
At the head of the table sat Fleet Admiral Sengoku, his square, imposing face filled with plainly visible fury.
Even the seagull ornament atop his cap looked ready to spread its wings and peck someone in response to his anger.
"Lost his trail? What a fine job of losing his trail!"
Sengoku's roar echoed through the spacious conference hall, rattling the window frames. "The Goth Kingdom is one of the World Government Member States! Right under the Marines' noses, a 'Treasure Hunter' who hasn't even entered the New World plundered it as casually as strolling through his own backyard! And the final result you give me is that you lost his trail?"
"If those self-proclaimed 'Emperors' in the New World hear about this, where will that leave Marine Headquarters' dignity? Are we supposed to let them think we can't even keep watch over the East Blue, the 'weakest' of the Four Blues?!"
The officers present all lowered their eyes, not daring to breathe loudly.
Everyone knew the New World had been unstable lately. The Whitebeard Pirates were making unusual moves, Kaido of the Beasts was expanding his territory again, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku's nerves were already stretched like a string about to snap.
Trouble like this in the East Blue at such a time was like tossing a cigarette butt into a powder keg.
"Fleet Admiral, this is indeed a difficult matter."
A Vice Admiral seated on the left forced himself to speak, attempting a tactical analysis. "Trejer possesses the Chain Chain Fruit. That sort of Paramecia power holds a major advantage in island battles with complex terrain. And while the East Blue is called the 'Weakest Sea,' with a low average bounty, that also means it has an extreme shortage of powerful fighters who have mastered Haki."
"Ordinary branch captains, no matter how many we send, will struggle to effectively apprehend Logia or special Paramecia users without Haki."
The Vice Admiral's words eased the atmosphere in the conference room slightly, but also made it more awkward.
It was indeed a sore point.
The first half of the Grand Line was one thing, but in the New World, Haki was practically standard.
In the East Blue, however, people who knew Haki were rarer than giant pandas.
"So you're saying that to catch a pirate whose bounty hovers around a hundred million, I should send Sakazuki or Borsalino?" Sengoku adjusted his round glasses, a dangerous glint flashing behind the lenses. "Using a sledgehammer to crack a nut will only make the outside world mock Headquarters even more for having no one to deploy!"
Kizaru Borsalino, who had been trimming his nails in a corner, merely pursed his lips lazily at those words, showing no intention of joining the conversation.
Across from him, Akainu Sakazuki lowered his cap, only a wisp of cold-looking blue smoke rising from the cigar clenched between his teeth.
Deploying an Admiral for a petty East Blue pirate was indeed strategically unsound.
"Why get angry over such a small matter?"
As the situation reached an impasse, a calm, gentle voice swept through the heated conference room like a cool breeze.
The Marines' Chief of Staff, Vice Admiral Tsuru.
The kindly faced, silver-haired old woman slowly set down her teacup.
Her eyes, which seemed to have seen through every evil in the world, swept lightly over the nautical chart on the table. Finally, her finger gently tapped a corner of the East Blue.
"If I remember correctly, isn't that old fellow who's always clamoring about retirement in the East Blue right now?"
Sengoku froze, then veins instantly bulged on his forehead like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"Garp!"
Sengoku ground out the name through clenched teeth, as though chewing a lump of hard iron. "That bastard! Every year, he uses 'finding the future pillars of the Marines' as an excuse to request two months of leave and run home to the East Blue! I know he's only going back to eat Senbei, look after his grandson, and sleep!"
"Since he's there, that makes things simple." Tsuru smiled faintly, her composure and grasp of the situation allowing the tense officers around her to breathe quiet sighs of relief. "A pirate like Trejer, who relies on his Devil Fruit and may not have top-tier hand-to-hand skills, fears a pure physical fighter like Garp most. He's his natural counter."
"Adjutant!"
Sengoku whipped his head around and roared at the young officer, who was still wiping away cold sweat. "Now! Immediately! Call that old bastard Garp this instant!"
"Tell him not to think I don't know what he's doing just because he's hiding in Foosha Village! Have him intercept Trejer on the Goth Kingdom route immediately! If he fails to catch him, his entire donut allowance for this year is canceled! And he won't be allowed back to Marineford to slack off anymore!"
"Yes, sir! I'll see to it at once!" As though granted a pardon, the adjutant saluted and started to rush outside.
"Wait."
Tsuru suddenly called him back.
From the bottom of the thick stack of documents before her, she drew an unremarkable kraft-paper file envelope and gently pushed it toward Sengoku.
"Since we've mentioned Garp's so-called 'search for a successor' plan, you should take a look at this as well. Zephyr had someone deliver it just yesterday."
"Zephyr?"
Sengoku's anger subsided somewhat, but his brow furrowed even more deeply.
Former Marine Admiral Zephyr had devoted himself to teaching at the Recruit Training Camp ever since that tragedy.
Anyone whose information he had specially sent over could not be ordinary.
Sengoku took the envelope and pulled out the few sheets inside.
The file was thin, with no photograph, only a simple written description and several astonishing physical test results.
"The pirates in the New World are becoming increasingly brazen, and the government is pushing for the final establishment of the Shichibukai system." Sengoku spoke gravely as he read, deep concern in his tone. "That means the higher-ups are beginning to distrust the Marines' ability to maintain control. We do need fresh blood, monsters who can truly hold their own on the seas."
His gaze quickly scanned several lines in the file. His deeply furrowed brow gradually relaxed, and even his stern eyes flashed with a surprise they had not shown in a long time.
"That fellow Zephyr may usually be stubborn, but his eye for people is beyond reproach."
Sengoku closed the file and tapped his fingers lightly against the table, a habit of his when considering major decisions.
"A greenhouse can't raise fierce beasts, and wooden dummies in a training camp can't produce truly powerful fighters."
Tsuru picked up her teacup again and gently blew on the tea stems floating on the surface, meaningfully taking up the thread. "That's why Zephyr also included a very bold proposal in this report..." "Live combat exercises."
Tsuru spoke those words lightly, her voice quiet, yet even the dust floating in the air seemed to freeze for an instant.
"Zephyr believes the walls of the Marine Headquarters School are too high. No matter how much sweat those children shed on the training grounds, they can't wash away their bookish air. Without seeing blood or smelling gunpowder, they'll remain flowers in a greenhouse."
Tsuru gently stroked the kraft-paper envelope, her fingertips feeling the rough texture of its surface. Her tone was even, yet carried unquestionable force. "So he's requested that the original year of closed training be shortened to six months. For the remaining six months, they would be sent directly to the Four Blues Branches to carry out pirate suppression missions. Marine Headquarters would devote thirty percent of its logistical resources to safeguarding these 'seeds.'"
Sengoku fell silent.
Before you continue