Bullet smacked his lips as he savored the memory of that pure collision of strength against strength.
"Damn, that was satisfying. Every punch landed clean, and you could practically hear the bones rattling!"
His grin widened.
"Now that was a real fight. Way more fun than smashing a hundred warships!"
With his booming voice, animated gestures, and barely restrained excitement, Bullet practically recreated the battle at Marineford right there in the quiet corridor.
Even Dragon, still half-dragged along beneath Bullet's arm, found the tension in his expression easing little by little. Bullet's enthusiasm was so simple and infectious that, for a moment, it pulled Dragon away from the endless worries weighing on his mind.
Bullet gave him another heavy slap on the back.
He had clearly tried to restrain his strength, but Dragon still rocked forward slightly and coughed twice.
"See? So quit wearing that miserable expression!"
Bullet's voice made the corridor vibrate.
"If the sky falls, there are plenty of tall bastards around here to hold it up! His Majesty Ron is here, and so are the rest of us. Rescuing a few brats is nothing!"
He swept one arm through the air as though dismissing every obstacle in existence.
"Right now, your only job is to come drink with me! I'll tell you the whole story properly and show you what a real battle looks like!"
Dragon could only stare at him.
As the leader of the Revolutionary Army, he had spent years calculating every move, weighing every consequence, and carrying responsibilities that rarely allowed him the luxury of lowering his guard.
He was completely unaccustomed to this kind of blunt, almost aggressive concern.
Part of him instinctively wanted to pull away and preserve the composed distance expected of a leader.
But then he looked at Bullet.
There was no calculation in that broad grin.
No hidden agenda.
No false sympathy.
Only straightforward warmth from a man who happened to express friendship by crushing someone beneath one arm and dragging them toward a tavern.
Dragon shook his head helplessly.
For the first time in what felt like a very long while, the corner of his mouth lifted into a faint smile.
Perhaps in a world filled with conspiracies, betrayals, and plans layered upon plans, listening to a battle maniac shamelessly brag about his latest fight was not the worst way to relax.
Maybe this kind of uncomplicated companionship was exactly what he needed.
So Dragon stopped resisting and allowed Bullet to drag him toward the Divine Kingdom's famous Warrior's Rest tavern.
Bullet continued talking the entire way, every movement carrying the energy of someone still mentally fighting through Marineford.
Guards along the corridor stepped aside with knowing smiles.
Everyone in the Divine Kingdom had apparently learned that once Lord Bullet decided to "cheer someone up," the safest course was simply to get out of his way.
For a little while, Dragon's anxiety over Sabo and the weight of the Revolutionary Army's future were drowned out by Bullet's thunderous laughter and rough, brotherly concern.
With that enormous hand still resting heavily across his shoulder, Dragon found himself realizing something he had not fully considered before.
Perhaps here, in this newly formed Eternal Divine Kingdom, he no longer had to carry every burden alone.
The tavern's wooden doors were already in sight.
Noise spilled from within, accompanied by the rich smell of ale.
Dragon took a slow breath and finally began walking under his own power.
For once, he could put down the responsibilities of leadership and simply listen.
If Bullet wanted to give him a detailed lecture on how to demolish Marine Headquarters, then Dragon supposed he could humor him.
Bullet was still talking excitedly, now describing Garp's earth-shattering punch in increasingly vivid detail.
Then Dragon suddenly stopped.
His entire body went rigid.
His eyes widened.
"Wait."
Bullet paused mid-sentence.
Dragon turned sharply toward him.
"Bullet, did you just say…"
His voice carried unmistakable disbelief.
"…Garp?!"
Bullet frowned at being interrupted just as he was getting to the good part.
"Yeah."
He gestured impatiently.
"Garp. That old bastard. Marine Hero Monkey D. Garp."
Bullet flexed one thick arm as though reenacting the punch.
"Who else has fists that damn hard?"
Kaido, who had been following along and enjoying Bullet's retelling, turned toward Dragon as well.
A puzzled look entered his eyes.
Dragon was normally one of the calmest men around. Seeing him react so strongly to a single name immediately caught Kaido's attention.
Was there something between Dragon and Garp that he did not know?
Dragon's expression became extremely complicated.
He stood there in silence for several seconds, trying to process what he had just heard.
For everyone else, it was only a brief pause.
For Dragon, it felt much longer.
The news had landed like a bomb.
His thoughts raced as he considered what Garp's presence at Marineford meant and what consequences might follow from it.
At the same time, he seemed to be wrestling with whether to say something he had kept to himself for a very long time.
Finally, Dragon raised his head.
His gaze settled on Kaido and Bullet, carrying a mixture of resolve and emotions neither of them could immediately read.
...
Dragon stood before the two towering figures without the slightest trace of fear in his eyes. If anything, he looked more resigned than anything else, as though he had finally decided to reveal something he had kept buried for far too long.
"There's something I should probably tell you."
His voice was low and steady.
Dragon took a deep breath, his chest rising noticeably before he finally said it.
"Garp…"
He paused.
"…is actually my father."
"What?!"
Bullet's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
Kaido reacted almost as violently, his enormous frame jerking in surprise.
Bullet even dug a finger into one ear as though he suspected he had misheard.
"Say that again!"
He stared at Dragon in disbelief.
"Marine Hero Monkey D. Garp… is your father?!"
Bullet pointed at him.
"Dragon, are you out of your damn mind?!"
Kaido was equally dumbfounded.
His eyes swept up and down Dragon as though seeing the man for the first time.
No matter how hard he tried, he could not reconcile the revolutionary standing before him—a man who had devoted his life to overthrowing the World Government—with Garp, the legendary Marine who had spent decades defending what he called Justice with his fists.
Kaido scratched his head.
"Wororo…"
His expression remained strange.
"That's harder to believe than hearing King got captured."
Dragon watched the two of them stare at him as though he had just announced that the moon was his grandmother.
He could only give a bitter smile.
"It's true."
The corridor immediately fell silent.
A moment earlier, Bullet had been enthusiastically describing his battle with Garp.
Now both Bullet and Kaido simply stared at Dragon.
The son of the Hero of the Marines had become the leader of the Revolutionary Army and one of the World Government's greatest enemies.
Even by the standards of the Grand Line, that was a family story difficult to swallow.
Bullet's expression shifted from disbelief to curiosity.
Kaido looked much the same.
Whatever history lay behind that relationship was clearly far more complicated than either of them had imagined.
Dragon exhaled slowly.
"It's a long story."
His eyes grew distant.
For once, his usual guarded composure loosened, as though admitting the truth had removed a weight he had carried for years.
Then, under the intensely curious gazes of Kaido and Bullet, Dragon began telling them about the past.
There had once been a time when he, too, had been a Marine.
Back then, Dragon had believed in Justice.
He had believed that joining the Marines meant protecting ordinary people, maintaining peace, and fighting those who preyed upon the weak.
That conviction had not disappeared overnight.
It had been shattered at God Valley.
Dragon's expression darkened as memories long buried beneath years of war and revolution resurfaced.
It was there that he had seen the World Nobles for what they truly were.
The Celestial Dragons treated themselves as beings above humanity and regarded the lives of everyone beneath them as disposable.
Dragon had witnessed them slaughter defenseless civilians and slaves simply for entertainment, turning human lives into pieces in their grotesque hunting games.
People screamed.
Blood soaked the ground.
Men, women, and children who had done nothing wrong were butchered because those calling themselves "gods" found their suffering amusing.
And the forces supposedly representing Justice had allowed it to happen.
Dragon's hands slowly tightened.
Even after all these years, the memories remained vivid.
The pools of blood.
The helpless cries.
The casual expressions on the Celestial Dragons' faces as they decided who lived and who died.
Every scene had burned itself into his mind.
For Dragon, God Valley had changed everything.
Whatever faith he had once placed in the system began to collapse.
He could no longer tell himself that the organization he served represented Justice when its power was ultimately being used to protect people capable of such atrocities.
"…It was there."
Dragon's voice became quieter.
"At God Valley."
His gaze lowered.
"That was when I finally understood."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"The thing I had sworn loyalty to wasn't the Justice I believed in."
His expression hardened.
"It was the greatest evil in the world, hiding behind the name of Justice."
Dragon drew a slow breath.
"For years, I had convinced myself that serving the Marines meant protecting people."
A bitter edge entered his voice.
"But once I saw the truth, I couldn't keep lying to myself."
He raised his eyes again.
"So…"
"I betrayed the Marines."
The words came calmly now.
"The organization I once took pride in."
"The organization I once thought I would give everything to."