"It's Garp!"
"Aaaagh! Worst luck ever!"
Buggy went bone-white at the sight of the dog-headed warship and the imposing figure at its prow. Clutching his head, he howled.
"What's wrong, Buggy? Didn't you just say you'd rather face Garp than that Marine?" Shanks needled, amused by his panic.
"Damn it, Shanks! Shut up!" Buggy snapped, pinching his cheeks. "It was a comparison—a hypothetical! Do you understand anything?!"
Shanks chuckled; the others followed, their laughter looser than anything they'd managed on Fish-Man Island.
They had to admit it: Garp was far stronger than Darren, but the pressure that Marine had exerted was worse. That ruthless, unhinged way of fighting had dredged up the same cold fear they'd felt before Golden Lion Shiki at the Edd War.
By comparison, Garp was at least a familiar foe. They knew where he was soft, which made him easier to handle.
"Bwahahaha! Roger! Let's see how far you think you can run this time!"
Garp's booming laugh rolled through the deep.
On deck, sweat-slick Marines fed rows of cannonballs along a conveyor to the hero of the Marine.
"Try my bombardment, old man!" Garp grinned across the dark water, hefted a cannonball, drew a breath, stepped, and hurled.
Under the deep-sea pressure, ordinary guns meant little. But flung by Garp's arm, the iron shot fled like a torpedo, cutting a whistling wake toward the Oro Jackson.
Whoosh!
A sword flash split the projectile mid-flight; it bloomed into a muffled burst in the murk.
"I'm not in the mood for games today, Garp!" Roger roared, brandishing his blade with a big, rolling laugh.
Garp threw in a relentless rhythm, a one-man battery; the Roger Pirates met him in kind, deflecting, slicing, and slipping away. It was a practiced dance, and both sides moved as if they'd rehearsed it a hundred times.
Explosions churned the currents to sludge. The Oro Jackson surged upward, knifing ahead; the dog-headed battleship gave chase, and soon both vanished into the black.
---
Fish-Man Island, Ryugu Palace.
A toppled Sea God statue lay beside a vast, scarred crater. The banquet table sagged under a mountain of fresh dishes.
Chefs, drenched in sweat, scurried in and out to replenish the feast, eyes fixed on the floor, too terrified to look up.
King Neptune and the palace elite hovered with strained smiles as the Marine Vice Admiral ate, barely daring to breathe.
His worst wounds had stopped bleeding. Only the most severe were wrapped in haste; the rest gaped raw to the air. He devoured plate after plate like a beast uncaged. Bowls the size of children stacked into teetering towers, and still his stomach lay flat as stone.
After a half hour that left nearly every cook in the palace spent, Darren finally stopped. He took a clean napkin and wiped his mouth.
"V-vice Admiral Darren, are you… satisfied?" Neptune ventured, courtly airs gone, his smile fixed and brittle.
"Half," Darren said, glancing over without interest.
Since his strength had surged, his appetite had gone with it. After a fight like this—after the energy he'd burned—he could eat for a hundred and barely feel it.
His injuries weren't critical, but that last technique had emptied his reserves. That was why he hadn't chased the Roger Pirates. He'd gotten what he came for; recklessly pressing on would only provoke them and leave him paying for it.
He took out a cigar and bit down.
Before he could reach for a light, Minister Turtle scuttled up, shell slick with cold sweat, and flicked a flame to the tip with shaking hands.
"Allow me, Vice Admiral Darren…" he said, bowing low.
This Marine was unlike the rest—a madman. In a fight he wouldn't care that Fish-Man Island was a World Government member or that Ryugu Palace held royals. He would kill without a blink.
Worse, he had the authority to do it. If he accused the palace of harboring a Great Pirate, the World Government would look the other way. He could drown the palace in blood and call it justice.
Darren's eyes thinned at the trembling official. "Relax," he said, voice cold. "If I wanted to, none of you would survive."
Neptune's face darkened.
Minister Turtle shook harder and bowed deeper. "Y-yes, yes, Your Excellency, you must be exhausted. You've worked so hard."
"You can't imagine how long we've awaited your arrival, having heard of your formidable reputation. If you hadn't intervened and driven off the Roger Pirates—those heinous criminals—we don't know what would have become of us."
"As you know, the Roger Pirates are overwhelming. We at Ryugu Palace faced a desperate dilemma. We wished to fight back, but our hands were tied."
"It wasn't that we lacked the will to resist, but Fish-Man Island holds countless civilians. To protect them, we had to feign compliance, buying even a moment of peace…"
"Therefore, Your Excellency's arrival on Fish-Man Island to aid our Fish-Man Race in repelling the Roger Pirates makes you the greatest benefactor of Ryugu Palace, Fish-Man Island, and indeed the entire Fish-Man Race!"
To be continued...