Garp remained silent, his knuckles clenched white.
"Doctor, Mr. Garp."
The woman on the hospital bed struggled to lift her eyelids, sweat soaking the red hair over her forehead.
Her face was as pale as faded paper, but her eyes were astonishingly bright.
"Let this child... come into the world.
I... will be all right."
The silence lasted several breaths.
Then-
"Waaah... waaah... waaah..."
A baby's cries, clear and strong, cut through the heavy air.
The baby's cries tore through the silence.
The woman lay in a pool of blood, warmth still lingering in her fingertips.
She looked at the wrinkled little face in her arms, her breathing already as faint as a candle about to go out. "The name... I decided long ago."
Every word exhausted her strength. "Ann for a girl, and for a boy... Ace."
She turned toward the tall figure standing in the shadows, blood and release mingling in her final smile.
"Gol D. Ace... is his child.
Mr. Garp, from now on... please look after him."
The sound of her arm falling was soft, as soft as a leaf touching the ground.
It seemed an era quietly closed its pages with that sound.
The burly old man took the swaddled bundle.
The baby was light, yet settled into his arms with a weight that made his shoulders dip slightly.
He gazed at that sleeping face, unaware of anything, and the deep lines on his forehead seemed to grow a little deeper.
The sea breeze passed through the shabby window frame, bringing the distant tang of salt.
"Ace."
He murmured the name once, his voice as rough as scraping sandpaper. "The world ahead... belongs to you."
The Fighting Fish arena's once-towering walls were now nothing but a ring of blackened ruins.
In the ** of