A stern shout came from outside the door, followed by an unbroken series of sharp cracks.
The pink spiral spikes, harder than steel, shattered and burst apart.
A figure strode into the hall.
He was an old man with an unusually broad chest and a tawny sheen to his skin. His white hair and beard were trimmed into a steep "mountain"
shape.
He merely walked through, and the "blood thorns" blocking the doorway, which had once struck terror into countless people at sea,
were punched through and crushed as easily as paper, without any deliberate attack.
"You came here for a meeting, not a fight."
The old man wore a dark gray Fleet Admiral's coat over a sleeveless ** covered in medals, his muscular arms **. A pale yellow scarf hung loosely around his neck.
His gaze swept across the room, bearing down on them like a mountain.
"If you have so much energy, then when the enemy appears, if I catch anyone standing by and watching-"
He paused, his voice sinking lower. "I'll send him off to spend some quality time with Garp."
...Hiss.
He had actually brought up Garp.
This Fleet Admiral really did not play fair.
"Fleet Admiral Kong, what happened just now had nothing to do with me."
A voice rose slowly from the other side of the hall.
It belonged to a man with a ** torso, over five meters tall, his muscles knotted like a golem's and his unruly hair hanging loose.
He continued in an even tone, "Of course, if Garp wants to visit my ship, I'd be more than happy to welcome him."
The man's outfit was excessively crude even by "pirate"
standards: a leather skirt, straw sandals, and a gold headband across his forehead. He looked like a savage who had