After leaving Makino’s Tavern, Garp didn’t head toward the harbor.
Nor did he make his usual trip to the training grounds.
Instead, he went straight home.
There was something he’d been thinking about for weeks.
Maybe even months.
The old Marine had put the matter off long enough.
A few minutes later, a Den Den Mushi sat atop his table.
The snail blinked sleepily.
Then its face twisted, transforming into a familiar scowl.
A thunderous roar erupted from its mouth.
“GARP!
What kind of idiot calls this early in the morning?!”
The Vice Admiral burst out laughing.
“Sengoku, that’s exactly why you’re getting old so fast.”
“Get to the point.”
“Fine, fine.”
Garp leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered.
“During my vacation in Windmill Village, I met an interesting kid.”
And so he began.
He spoke about the mysterious traveler who had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
About the countless conversations they’d shared over drinks.
About the calm confidence hidden behind an easy smile.
And most importantly—
About the growth he had witnessed with his own eyes.
By the time he finished, silence filled the line.
Several seconds passed before Sengoku finally spoke.
“So what’s your conclusion?”
Garp’s expression sharpened.
“He’s a genius.”
There wasn’t even a trace of hesitation.
“A real one.”
The Den Den Mushi mirrored Sengoku’s skeptical look.
“Oh?”
“You’re not listening.”
Garp folded his arms.
“I’ve seen talented recruits.
I’ve trained prodigies.
This is something else.”
His voice grew noticeably more serious.
“Six months ago, the kid was an ordinary civilian.
Couldn’t even keep his breathing steady during basic physical training.”
He paused.
“Now he’s using Haki.”
The reaction was immediate.
The Den Den Mushi’s eyes widened.
“Haki?”
“At least Observation and Armament.”
Garp nodded.
“And not the half-baked kind beginners accidentally stumble into.
He’s already comfortable using both.”
Silence returned.
Even through the Den Den Mushi, Garp could practically hear Sengoku thinking.
“This happened in six months?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
A grin spread across Garp’s face.
“The growth rate is absurd.”
His gaze drifted toward the window.
Beyond it lay the sea.
Beyond that, the rest of the world.
“For the first time in years,” Garp said quietly, “I saw someone who reminded me of my younger self.”
The words carried unusual weight.
Because there had only ever been one Monkey D.
Garp.
The Marine who had cornered Gol D.
Roger countless times.
The hero whose name was known throughout the world.
The living legend whom even the strongest pirates treated with caution.
Sengoku understood exactly what that comparison meant.
Which was why he didn’t dismiss it.
“You rarely praise anyone this much.”
“I know.”
“Then you truly believe this young man can become something special?”
Garp barked out a laugh.
“Special?”
He shook his head.
“If he chooses the right path, he’ll change the future of the Marines.”
The Den Den Mushi stared back at him in silence.
Then Sengoku sighed.
“That’s quite a prediction.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Another brief pause followed.
Finally, Sengoku spoke again.
“In that case, recruit him.”
Garp blinked.
“That easy?”
“The Special Training Program begins soon.”
There was a hint of amusement in the Fleet Admiral’s voice.
“If he’s even half as talented as you claim, we’ll know soon enough.”
Click.
The line went dead.
For a moment, Garp simply stared at the silent Den Den Mushi.
Then a grin slowly spread across his face.
“Well then.”
The old Marine rose from his chair.
“Let’s see if that stubborn traveler can be convinced.”
Back at Makino’s Tavern, Ian remained completely unaware that two of the most influential figures in Marine Headquarters had just spent several minutes discussing his future.
Or perhaps he wouldn’t have cared even if he knew.
At the moment, his attention was elsewhere.
A translucent blue panel floated before him.
Invisible to everyone except its owner.
Ian Gale
Abilities:
Armament Haki
Observation Haki
Checked-In Location: Windmill Village
Check-In Progress: 97%
Ship Level: 2
Ninety-seven percent.
Just three percent remained.
Three.
Ian rested his chin against one hand.
“What’s missing?”
The Legendary Navigator System never provided direct answers.
That would have been far too convenient.
Every destination demanded genuine exploration.
Real participation.
Real experiences.
Windmill Village alone had taken six months.
Six months of conversations.
Six months of wandering its streets.
Six months of becoming part of everyday life.
The reward waiting at one hundred percent was enough to make anyone impatient.
Conqueror’s Haki.
The final piece.
Once he obtained it, he would possess all Three Forms of Haki.
An achievement few people in the world could claim.
Observation Haki allowed one to sense the world around them.
Armament Haki strengthened the body and weaponized one’s will.
Conqueror’s Haki…
That was different.
A power born from overwhelming spirit.
A force that could not be taught.
Could not be learned.
Only awakened.
The disposition of a king.
The thought alone was enough to stir his curiosity.
Unfortunately, curiosity wasn’t a good reason to rush.
The sea wasn’t going anywhere.
Neither was the reward.
Probably.
“Maybe the last few percent are tied to seeing Garp before I leave.”
The theory felt reasonable.
The old Marine had become one of the defining parts of his stay in Windmill Village.
The system valued experiences.
Relationships.
Stories.
Not simply places.
Ian closed his eyes and settled into quiet meditation.
Observation Haki spread outward.
The tavern’s sounds became clearer.
The creak of wooden beams.
The soft clink of bottles.
The distant cries of seabirds beyond the harbor.
Time drifted by.
Outside, the sun climbed steadily toward noon.
Then—
Heavy footsteps.
A familiar rhythm.
A familiar presence.
Ian opened one eye.
Right on schedule.
The tavern door swung open.
Garp strode inside like a battleship entering port.
The old man looked unusually excited.
Which was almost never a good sign.
Ian suppressed a smile.
“Makino, one strong drink and one gentle one, please.”
If Garp was planning something, he might as well enjoy the show.
The Vice Admiral dropped heavily onto the stool beside him.
His eyes practically sparkled.
“Ian.”
That tone immediately triggered every alarm bell in Ian’s mind.
He took a cautious sip of his drink.
“Yes?”
“There are some things I need to tell you.”
“Sounds serious.”
“They are.”
Garp straightened his back.
The tavern was nearly empty.
Makino was occupied elsewhere.
The timing was clearly intentional.
“You may not know who I really am.”
Ian stared at him.
Actually, I do.
“You definitely don’t know my true strength.”
I absolutely do.
“But now it’s time.”
Ian nearly laughed.
The old man looked far too pleased with himself.
Then Garp slammed a fist onto the counter.
The tavern rattled.
“I am Monkey D.
Garp!”
He pointed proudly at his own chest.
“Vice Admiral of the Marines!”
Another dramatic pause.
Then, with all the grandeur of a man unveiling the greatest secret in history—
“The Hero of the Marines!
Iron Fist Garp!”
The declaration echoed through the tavern.
Silence followed.
Garp waited.
Surely there would be shock.
Disbelief.
Excitement.
Something.
Anything.
Instead, Ian calmly lifted his glass.
Took a sip.
And nodded.
“Oh.”
Garp blinked.
“…”
Another sip.
“That’s impressive.”
“…”
The old Marine stared at him.
Completely dumbfounded.
Where was the reaction?
Where was the awe?
This was supposed to be a legendary reveal.
People were supposed to gasp.
Maybe fall out of their chairs.
At the very least, they weren’t supposed to react as though they’d just been informed tomorrow’s weather would be sunny.
Garp narrowed his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
And for the first time all morning, the Hero of the Marines found himself utterly unprepared.