The Marine ship cut through the calm waters of the East Blue, the Dog-Head Warship's figurehead casting an imposing shadow in the sunlight.
Allen stood by the railing, quietly observing how things worked aboard. Garp seemed to have adopted a hands-off attitude toward this "unexpected guest," neither restricting his movements nor giving him special attention. That attitude actually came as a relief to Allen-he needed time and space to observe and think.
"Kid, get over here!" Garp's booming voice came from the other end of the deck.
Allen hurried over and found the Marine Vice Admiral pointing at a pile of ropes. "If you're aboard my ship, you work. Get these sorted out."
"Yes, Vice Admiral." Allen made no complaint and immediately began sorting through the heavy, tangled ropes. It was no easy job for a ten-year-old, but he worked meticulously.
Garp stood to one side with his arms folded, watching, a barely perceptible flicker of approval in his eyes. After several days together, he had found that this boy, who claimed to be a descendant of the Portgas family, possessed composure and tenacity beyond his years. Not only did he take his work seriously, but he also learned remarkably quickly, picking up some of the basic shipboard tasks after a single lesson.
What concerned Garp even more was the boy's astonishing physical condition. Yet the strange power he had sensed when the boy took three punches from him that day had not surfaced again over the past few days, as though it had been an illusion.
"Kid, you said you're Rouge's nephew. What proof do you have?" Garp asked suddenly, lowering his voice a little.
Allen took the badge and letter from inside his clothes. "My father left these behind. Before my aunt married that man, she wrote to my father, telling him she had fallen in love with a pirate named Gol D. Roger."
Garp's pupils contracted slightly. Very few people knew that detail; it was almost enough to confirm that the letter was genuine.
"Do you know what that name means?" Garp's voice grew heavy.
"It means my cousin will live his entire life under that shadow," Allen answered calmly, without stopping his work. "It means the World Government will stop at nothing to wipe out that bloodline."
Garp fell silent for a moment, then suddenly slapped his broad hand hard against Allen's back, nearly sending him stumbling to the ground. "Then that's all the more reason to get strong! Strong enough to protect the people you want to protect!"
Allen steadied himself and looked up at the Marine Vice Admiral. "That's exactly what I want."
The voyage continued. Allen soon discovered how Garp trained the Marines under his command-it could only be called brutal. He saw Garp casually throw a cannonball at a dozing Marine. The soldier woke with a start and hastily caught it, only to be driven backward step after step by the tremendous impact.
"Too weak!" Garp roared. "In the New World, you wouldn't even count as small fry at this level!"
Something stirred in Allen's mind. He knew this was a rare opportunity, so he began quietly following behind the Marines during their training, imitating their movements and even attempting their weighted exercises.
At first, the Marines found it funny that a child actually wanted to copy the adults' training. But they soon stopped laughing-not only did Allen keep up with the basic training load, he even began increasing the difficulty on his own.
"Kid, come here." One day, after training ended, Garp beckoned to the sweat-soaked Allen.
Allen walked over to him. Garp produced a pair of specially made weighted wristbands from somewhere. "Put these on. Starting tomorrow, double your training."
The wristbands looked ordinary, but they were exceptionally heavy once he put them on. Allen estimated that each weighed around ten kilograms. That might not have been much for an adult, but it was a considerable burden for a child.
"Thank you, Vice Admiral," Allen said earnestly.
Garp snorted. "Don't celebrate too soon. If you can't keep up with the training, you'll die!"
In the days that followed, Allen began a hellish training regimen. He rose before dawn every day for physical conditioning with the weights on, followed by lessons in basic fighting techniques. Garp occasionally offered a word or two of personal instruction, usually cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Allen also gradually discovered the hidden enhancements granted by the Torch Dragon Fruit. His recovery far exceeded that of ordinary people; most of the muscle soreness from the previous day's training would be gone by the following morning. His sight, hearing, and other senses also grew increasingly sharp, often allowing him to anticipate his opponents' movements during combat training.
Late one night, Allen was doing extra training alone on deck. Moonlight spilled across the calm sea, and the only sound around him was the waves lapping against the hull. He closed his eyes and tried to sense his surroundings-this was his own attempt at training Observation Haki.
Suddenly, a strange sensation welled up within him. It was as though the entire world appeared in his mind in another form: the steady breathing of the Marines on watch, the heartbeats of the soldiers sleeping below deck, even the paths of schools of fish swimming beneath the distant sea...
Just then, a sense of danger suddenly struck. Allen leaped backward almost instinctively. The next second, a cannonball whistled through the spot where he had been standing and crashed into the sea, sending up a huge splash.
"Not bad reflexes, kid!" Garp had appeared on deck at some point and was still hefting another cannonball in his hand.
Allen's heart pounded. In that instant, he had truly "seen" the attack coming.
"Again!" Garp laughed and hurled another cannonball.
This time, Allen saw it more clearly-the instant the cannonball left Garp's hand, his Observation Haki had already caught its trajectory. He dodged sideways, and the cannonball missed again.
"Oh?" Garp raised an eyebrow. This time, he threw two cannonballs at once, sending them flying from different angles.
Allen's pupils contracted slightly, golden vertical slits flashing briefly in the moonlight. The world seemed to slow before his eyes, the cannonballs' paths clearly visible. He nimbly twisted aside and ducked, and the two cannonballs barely grazed past him.
Garp stopped throwing and regarded him thoughtfully. "Observation Haki... awakening it at such a young age. As expected of..."
He did not finish, but Allen understood what he meant. The bloodline of the D. Clan, combined with the power of a Mythical Zoan Fruit, made it easier for him than for ordinary people to reach the threshold of Haki.
"Keep progressing at this pace." Garp left him with one remark before turning away. "Once we reach the Goa Kingdom, there'll be even stricter training waiting for you."
Several weeks later, the coastline of the Goa Kingdom finally came into view. Allen stood at the bow, gazing at that familiar land in the distance-in his memories, it was Luffy's hometown, and the place where Ace and Sabo had spent their childhoods.
"Prepare to dock!" came a Marine's shout.
Garp walked up beside Allen and spoke in a rare, serious tone. "Remember what you promised, kid. You mustn't breathe a word to outsiders about anything you see here."
"I understand." Allen nodded. "I just want to meet my family."
The warship slowly entered the harbor. The Goa Kingdom was renowned for its cleanliness and order, a stark contrast to the rough character of the South Blue island in Allen's memories. Elegant buildings, tidy streets, well-dressed citizens... everything seemed so orderly.
But Allen knew that beneath this glittering facade lay the kingdom's darkest filth-the world of difference between High Town and Edge Town, the enormous gulf between royalty and the poor, and the coming fire that would burn down Gray Terminal.
"What are you spacing out for, kid?" Garp slapped his broad hand against Allen's back. "Keep up! I'm taking you to meet that troublesome little brother of yours!"
Allen took a deep breath and followed Garp. They passed through the tidy streets and headed out of the city. The farther out they went, the more dilapidated their surroundings became, in stark contrast to the splendor within the city.
At last, they reached a mountain bandits' hut. Without ceremony, Garp kicked the door open. "Dadan! Get out here!"
A fierce-looking female bandit stormed out, cursing. "Damn old man! What do you want this time?!" Her gaze landed on Allen, and she paused. "Who's this brat?"
"Another troublesome kid." Garp grinned. "He'll be staying with you for a while."
"You've got to be kidding!" Dadan practically jumped. "I'm already raising two little monsters for you!"
Just then, Allen looked past Dadan and saw two figures behind her.
One was a black-haired boy of around seven, his face bearing a defiance beyond his years as he eyed the stranger warily. There were several scrapes on his face, as though he had just been in a fight.
The other was a younger boy wearing a straw hat, who was trying hard to poke his head out from behind the black-haired boy and study the newcomer curiously.
Allen's heart gave a sudden thump.
Ace. Luffy.
He had finally met them.