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Chapter 32: Bogard's Sword! Water Breathing!
On the deck of the dog-headed warship, the sea breeze was salty and damp.
In contrast to the surrounding Marines who were going through their daily drills, their shouts shaking the heavens, one corner was exceptionally quiet.
Garp's adjutant, Bogard, stood with his eyes closed.
He wore a crisp suit, his figure as straight as a pine, his ever-present longsword in his hand.
The strangest part was his breathing.
It was long and rhythmic, his chest rising and falling at a specific frequency. The very air around him seemed to flow with his breathing. Faintly, one could even see wisps of white steam exit his mouth and nose, only to quickly dissipate in the wind.
The surrounding Marines all subconsciously stayed away from this area, stealing glances at their usually silent officer with a mixture of awe and confusion.
They had no idea what he was doing.
Officer Bogard's swordsmanship had always been known for its precision, speed, and lethality. It was a textbook example for the entire Navy.
But for the past few days, his training methods had become strange.
He no longer pursued ultimate speed and power. Instead, he began to practice this strange breathing rhythm, along with some unseen, fluid sword forms.
Just then.
Bogard's eyes snapped open!
His dark pupils were as calm as a deep pool.
"Total Concentration: Water Breathing..."
He whispered, so softly only he could hear.
"First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
Clang!
The blade left its sheath!
A blue slash, almost too fast for the naked eye to capture, swept out horizontally!
The slash was not overpowering. It made no sound of tearing air, nor did it have the edge to cut steel.
It was gentle, smooth. It was like the calmest lake surface being brushed by a breeze, sending out a perfect ripple.
An elegant arc flashed in the air and was gone.
Nearby, a thick wooden training post was silently, smoothly severed at its middle.
The cut was as smooth as glass!
Bogard slowly sheathed his sword, letting out a long, heavy breath.
He looked at the sword in his hand, a hint of exploration in his eyes.
On Blake's recommendation, he had entered the dungeon called "Demon Slayer: Spider Mountain."
It was a world filled with despair and wailing, inhabited by creatures called 'Oni' (Demons) that possessed near-immortal regenerative abilities and could only move at night.
For Bogard, who had mastered Haki, these 'Oni' were not overwhelmingly strong, and not difficult to deal with. But he found that simply using Haki to wear down their life force was far less efficient or precise than the "Breathing Styles" used by the swordsmen of that world.
And his greatest reward was this sword and breathing style, "Water Breathing."
It perfectly combined breath, muscle, and blood flow to unleash power beyond human limits in an instant.
Just as Bogard was lost in thought.
Boom!
A violent blue bolt of lightning descended from the sky, smashing heavily onto the deck!
The entire dog-headed warship dipped, groaning under the weight!
The Marines were thrown about, looking in terror at the center of the lightning.
The light faded, revealing Garp's burly figure. He even yawned and casually picked his nose.
"Oh?"
His gaze immediately fell on Bogard, and on the cleanly-cut training post.
"Not bad, Bogard."
Garp grinned, showing his white teeth.
"Your swordsmanship, when did it get so flashy, and so strong?"
Bogard turned and bowed slightly to Garp.
"Vice Admiral Garp."
When he spoke, he reverted to his usual silent, stoic adjutant persona.
"I just learned some new techniques from Mr. Blake. I am still in the experimental phase."
"None of that!"
Garp strode over and slapped Bogard's shoulder with his giant hand, the force nearly making him stumble.
"My eyes aren't blind! Your strength has improved by more than just a little! That brat Blake really is a treasure trove! Bwahahaha!"
Garp's laughter was incredibly hearty.
Bogard didn't reply, just stood there silently, but his expression was a shade more serious than usual.
"Vice Admiral Garp."
He spoke.
"There is a matter I must report to you."
"Hm?"
Garp stopped laughing, glancing at him.
"What is it? Did Sengoku call again to yell at me about writing reports?"
"No."
Bogard shook his head, lowering his voice.
"It's about... your grandsons."
The smile vanished from Garp's face instantly.
A sharp light flashed in his seemingly listless eyes.
"Those three little bastards! What trouble have they caused now?!"
Bogard took a stack of crumpled bounty posters from his coat and handed them over.
"They have been very active near Mt. Colubo recently."
"This is an urgent report from the East Blue 77th Branch. They... they have been capturing a large number of pirates active in the area, and turning them in at the branch for their bounties."
Garp froze.
He took the stack of posters, scanning them briefly.
They ranged from small-fry in the hundreds of thousands of Beri to minor, well-known pirates in the two or three million range.
Garp's movements stopped.
He looked up at Bogard, his expression utterly bizarre.
The air around them fell silent.
Several seconds later.
"Pfft..."
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
A world-shaking, wild laugh erupted from Garp's throat!
He laughed so hard he bent over, tears nearly bursting from his eyes. The entire dog-headed warship trembled with his laughter!
"Catching... catching pirates for money?!"
Garp slammed his fist on the deck, directly smashing a crater in the thick wood!
"Well done!!"
He roared, his face filled with undisguised joy and pride!
"That's my grandsons! That's how it should be! That's my blood!"
Garp crushed the bounty posters in his hand, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Bogard!"
He roared.
Bogard immediately stood at attention, his gaze sharp.
"Sir!"
"Change course!"
Garp grinned, his smile enormous.
"Target, Foosha Village!"
"I'm going to see for myself just how strong those little brats have gotten!"