At the mountain peak, Garp slumped to the ground.
Sweat soaked his clothes, his face was pale, and his entire body trembled from exhaustion.
He had climbed the mountain twice, only for his father to kick the boulder back down each time.
After enduring two trips down the mountain, even the boulder had reached its limit and shattered into several pieces.
“Can you still move?” Garp shook his head.
He couldn’t budge a muscle.
Then his feet left the ground.
His cruel father had picked him up and was holding him over the cliff.
A familiar place, with a familiar feeling.
“Dad, wait!
Let me rest for a moment.
I’ll jump by myself!” There was no need for his father to trouble himself.
Garp would gladly jump on his own.
Please, Dad.
At least let me choose how I die.
Jiro grinned.
“Letting you jump on your own wouldn’t be as effective as throwing you.” “Dad is doing this for your own good, so don’t blame me.
I don’t want to do this either.
It’s all for your sake.” “You have to understand my good intentions.” Off you go, my dear son.
Go, Pikachu.
Jiro threw him.
Already exhausted, Garp screamed once more.
He had no strength left to struggle and could only accept that his father had abandoned him yet again.
As he fell, he didn’t dare look down.
He spread himself out and braced for impact, hoping to make the landing a little safer.
Bang!
Once again, he landed in a tree.
Garp found himself dangling from a branch by the very end of his pants.
He didn’t dare move.
The branch looked ready to snap, and his pants seemed moments away from tearing.
He didn’t want to fall, but more importantly, he didn’t want to lose his pants.
They were the only intact pair he owned, and he had no money to buy another.
Garp remained perfectly still, hoping to recover enough strength to climb down safely.
Creak.
The branch bent beneath his weight.
He froze, and the cracking stopped.
“Easy… Don’t break.” Riiip.
Now his pants were beginning to tear.
Garp’s heart ached as the fabric stretched to its limit.
“Don’t rip.
I’m begging you.
I don’t want to be left without pants.” His prayers seemed to work.
The fabric held together by its last few threads, but the slightest movement would tear it completely.
Garp barely dared to breathe.
Unless something unexpected happened, he planned to stay there for at least half an hour.
Then he heard something above him.
At first, the sound was faint, but it quickly grew louder.
Garp slowly raised his head and saw a black dot in the sky.
The dot grew larger and larger, and once he realized what it was, his face went pale.
“Don’t, Dad.” “No!” Something unexpected arrived right on time.
Jiro was falling directly toward him.
Garp’s pants could no longer endure the strain.
Riiip!
The fabric tore apart, and Garp felt as though his heart had torn along with it.
Boom!
He crashed face-first into the ground.
Jiro landed steadily beside him, smiling as he looked around with an innocent expression.
He scratched his head.
“My, how did I fall down here?” In reality, he had jumped.
While practicing Moonwalk, Jiro had been testing how well he could move through the air.
Walking through the sky was everyone’s dream, and stepping on air felt almost like dancing.
Then he spotted Garp hanging from the tree and realized that his son needed one final push.
A wonderful idea came to him.
He would fall.
Accidentally, of course.
Garp stared at him in silence.
No one would believe that had been an accident.
How could Jiro have landed in exactly the right spot without missing by even an inch?
He hadn’t appeared earlier or later.
He had waited until Garp was perfectly secure before dropping onto him.
The damn old man had come specifically to break his spirit.
Unforgivable.
“Oh, isn’t that my son Garp?” Jiro asked.
“Why are you lying on the ground?
Hurry and get up.
It’s dirty down there.” Garp weakly reached out a hand.
He couldn’t stand because everything hurt too much.
Jiro ignored the hand.
“Why aren’t you getting up?
What are you doing down there?
Is the ground comfortable?” Garp stared at him in disbelief.
Pull me up!
My hand is right here!
Are you blind?
Jiro smiled down at him without the slightest intention of helping.
Garp was growing up; he needed to learn how to stand on his own.
Neither of them moved.
Garp refused to get up, and Jiro refused to pull him up.
A silent battle of wills began.
The standoff dragged on, but neither side gave in.
Jiro took out a piece of fruit and began eating it with great enjoyment, looking down at Garp as though watching an amusing animal.
If the brat refused to move, Jiro would simply keep watching.
When it came to patience, he had plenty.
Garp’s forehead twitched.
The damn old man really wasn’t going to help him.
With no other choice, Garp slowly crawled to his feet.
Only then did Jiro reach out a hand.
“My, why did you get up?
I was just about to help you.” Garp stared at him.
Should I lie back down, then?
“Since you’re already up, that’s good.
You’re not three years old anymore, so you need to learn how to be independent.” “You must rely on your own hands to support yourself.
There is no one in this world you can depend on forever.
In the end, you can only rely on yourself.” “Depending on others is nothing but a dream.
Do you understand?” Jiro stood on the moral high ground and lectured him without shame.
All he had to do was put on a serious expression and claim that everything was for Garp’s own good.
He was becoming remarkably skilled at tormenting his son while feeling satisfied with himself.
So this was what being a father felt like.
Garp remained silent.
He had no interest in listening.
The two headed home, with Jiro walking in front and Garp following behind.
The forest wasn’t especially dangerous at dusk, but the deeper the night became, the more dangerous it grew.
As they walked, Garp repeatedly raised his fist and aimed punches at the back of Jiro’s head.
His furious little expression was almost adorable.
Jiro noticed but didn’t turn around.
He had no intention of ruining the moment.
Naturally, the task of cooking fell to Garp when they returned home.
He tried to object, but one look from his father silenced him.
Cook or get beaten.
The choice was his.
Garp didn’t dare play any tricks with the food.
After all, he had to eat it too.
Tonight’s requirements were the same as before: three dishes and one soup.
There could be more, but there absolutely couldn’t be less.
After racking his brain, Garp produced three culinary disasters.
Jiro ate the meal he had prepared for himself, while Garp was left with his own cooking.
The difference between their meals filled him with envy.
“If you want some of this, call me Dad.” Garp gritted his teeth.
A man could lose his life, but not his dignity.
“Dad.” The food smelled incredible and tasted even better.
Garp immediately took another bite.
When forced to choose between dignity and a proper meal, he chose to fill his stomach.
After all, a strong body was the foundation of everything, and missing even one meal left him starving.
Jiro was satisfied with his son’s attitude.
There would be no wilderness survival challenge tonight.
It was time to change the program and train his son properly.
An outstanding youth of the new era had to be well-rounded—in character, intelligence, physical fitness, aesthetics, and practical skills.