“Let go of me!
You guys don’t know shit!
My cabbage has been trampled by a pig!
Ahhh!”
In the corner of the tavern, Shanks’ eyes were bloodshot.
His hands gripped his named sword Gryphon tightly.
The blade had just been drawn an inch.
It was forcibly pressed back into the scabbard by his First Mate, Benn Beckman, who had quick reflexes.
Yasopp, with no regard for his image, hugged Shanks’ thigh, being dragged along as he shouted.
“Captain, calm down!
Uta is watching!
If you draw your sword in front of your daughter, your favorability rating will drop!”
Hearing the words “favorability rating drop,” Shanks went rigid and desperately let go of the hilt.
He clutched his head with both hands and let out a wail of a broken-hearted father.
Ron ignored him completely, pretending not to hear his impotent rage.
He gently steadied Uta, whose face was so red she was almost steaming and about to faint, onto a nearby chair.
Then he turned his head.
Garp had also snapped out of it and was focused on the competition.
He was stuffing donuts into his mouth frantically, chewing until crumbs flew everywhere, not even taking a sip of water.
Ron swallowed the iced juice in his glass and tapped his fingers on the table.
“Old man, at the rate you’re eating, you’re not far from the coffin.”
Garp stopped chewing, his eyes widened, and he shouted unintelligibly with puffed-out cheeks.
“Who are you cursing, you brat!”
Ron pulled a napkin to wipe his hands and spoke unhurriedly.
“Have you heard of the three highs?”
Garp finally swallowed the sweet in his mouth and let out a loud burp.
“What high?
Height?
I am the Marine’s number one physical specimen!”
“High blood pressure, high cholesterol, high blood sugar.” Ron tossed out the three terms.
“When people get old, their metabolism gets worse.
If you keep consuming tons of sugar like this, your blood will become so thick it will practically coagulate, and your blood vessels will burst sooner or later.”
Ron paused for half a second and pointed his finger at the table.
“The deadliest part is diabetes.
Do you know what you have to do in the late stages of diabetes?
Saw off your legs to save your life.”
Garp froze.
“Don’t take it lightly.” Ron pointed at Garp’s right leg.
“When it really comes to that, never mind chasing pirates around the world, even a three-year-old kid at the village entrance could kick you, an old man with broken legs, over with one foot.
Besides sawing off your legs, you’ll also suffer from premature aging and dementia.
You won’t even remember who your own grandson is, and you’ll spend your days picking up trash to eat on the street.”
Garp instinctively shuddered.
He remembered his last few voyages; he had indeed occasionally forgotten the names of new recruits.
He looked down at the half-eaten donut in his hand.
Garp felt that this thing was no longer delicious.
“Is it…
really that serious?”
Ron sighed and shook his head with an expression of pity, “For the sake of you being Luffy’s grandfather, I’ll teach you a life-prolonging technique for self-cultivation.”
Garp, half-believing, followed Ron to the open space outside the tavern, completely forgetting about the competition.
The sun was high, and many villagers watched the excitement from afar.
Ron spread his feet slightly, raised his hands, and struck the Tai Chi starting pose he remembered from his past life.
“Feet apart, shoulder-width.
Come, bend your knees, relax your waist.” Ron drew circles in the air unhurriedly.
“Remember the mantra.
A big watermelon, cut in half in the middle.
You take half, he takes half…”
Garp’s brows knotted as he watched, “Soft and weak, without any strength.
This is called martial arts?
This can save a life?”
“Train your muscles, bones, and skin on the outside, and train your breath on the inside.
Stop talking nonsense, follow the movements, and feel the breathing rhythm of the natural universe.” Ron was spouting nonsense.
The dignified Vice Admiral of the Marine Headquarters was actually fooled by this strange theory.
He put away the Armament Haki on his fists, stood by the dirt road of Foosha Village, and clumsily followed Ron in cutting the watermelon.
Pushing hands, parting the wild horse’s mane.
Their wrists intersected in mid-air.
Garp wanted to exert force to test him, but found that Ron’s strength was slippery and elusive.
Borrowing force to strike, Ron pulled and pushed following his momentum.
Garp tripped over his own feet and stumbled forward a few steps.
“Huh?
There’s something to this!” Garp became very interested, swung his arms, and started pushing hands and turning circles with Ron.
The crisp electronic sound in his mind arrived right on time.
[Ding!
Detected continuous interaction with plot character Garp!
Dropped top-tier reward: Top-tier Armament Haki!]
The vast and complex experience of using Haki and muscle memory poured into his mind without any obstruction.
Ron let out a satisfied breath and retracted his movements.
Garp was still immersed in the moves of “Single Whip” and “Cloud Hands,” muttering to himself about how to divide the watermelon.
Inside the tavern, the Red Hair Pirates took advantage of Garp’s absence to start drinking and shouting again.
Ron found it noisy.
He walked back under the eaves and lifted Luffy, who was still playing dead to avoid trouble, by the back of his collar with one hand.
“Let’s go, into the mountains.”
Luffy flailed his limbs in mid-air.
“Where to?”
“Mt.
Colubo.
Find a quiet place to give you some special training.”
Just as Ron took two steps, a backward pull came from the corner of his clothes.
Turning his head, Uta stood behind him with red eyes.
Her little hand was tightly clutching the hem of his clothes.
“How long will brother Ron be gone?” The little girl’s voice carried a hint of crying.
Ron turned around and looked at the girl’s aggrieved face.
He raised his right hand, gently pinched Uta’s chin with his index finger and thumb, and lifted it slightly.
Uta’s heartbeat skipped a beat, and she looked up blankly.
Ron lowered his head.
A gentle kiss was planted on her forehead.
It was very light, touching and then pulling away.
“Be good and wait for me at home.
If you’re bored, go to the tavern and find sister Makino for some snacks.”
Uta was completely stunned.
Her cheeks were so red they were practically dripping blood, and her brain had completely lost the ability to think.
She couldn’t even speak, only nodding frantically.
At the edge of the bar.
The glass in Shanks’ hand was crushed to powder.
He drew the Gryphon at his waist and was about to rush out, but Benn Beckman was quick-witted, hugging his Captain’s waist tightly and pinning him to the ground.
“Calm down, Captain!
He can even take Garp’s iron fist with his head; you can’t cut him!”
Ignoring the farce behind him, Ron carried Luffy straight into the deep mountains.
Deep in the forest of Mt.
Colubo.
Ron walked leisurely, not even running into a single beast blocking the way.
Halfway up the mountain, a dilapidated and large wooden house appeared before his eyes.
Messy clothes were hanging in the yard, and the door was in shambles.
Ron didn’t knock; he just lifted his leg.
With a bang, the sturdy wooden door shattered, and wood splinters mixed with dust flew into the yard.
The bandits, who were surrounding a large iron pot eating stew, were startled, and their wooden bowls fell all over the ground.
“Which bastard dares to smash my door!
Tired of living?”
Dadan, the leader with a large build and orange curly hair, rushed out in a rage, wielding a thick wooden club.
Behind her followed a dozen bandit minions, each drawing their short blades.
Ron stood in the middle of the scattered wood chips and tossed Luffy onto a haystack nearby.
Facing the foul-mouthed bandits, Ron was too lazy to say a single word.
He blinked.
Conqueror’s Haki Activation Card activated.
No extra movements, no need for any warning.
An invisible and overbearing pressure pushed out horizontally from Ron as the center.
The wind stopped.
The leaves froze in mid-air.
The birds in the sky fell straight down.
Dadan, who was rushing at the front, couldn’t even let out a syllable of mercy; her eyes rolled back, she foamed at the mouth, and her knees went soft, crashing into the mud.
The dozen bandit minions behind her who were holding knives had their bodies go limp and weak, and they all knelt in two rows, falling to the ground one after another.
The entire Dadan family was wiped out within three seconds.
Ron yawned and patted the dust off his cuffs, “The bugs in the mountains are really noisy.”
A strange noise came from the canopy high on the right.
Leaves rustled as they fell.
A thin, small figure holding a rusty iron pipe jumped straight down from the high branch.
His feet landed firmly on the mud, kicking up dust all over the ground.
It was a boy in his early teens with a face full of freckles, wearing a thin vest.
His eyes stared fixedly at Ron, revealing an unreasonable ferocity.
His face was full of vigilance and hostility.
Ace lowered his center of gravity, gripped the pipe tightly with both hands, and struck a defensive posture.
Just now on the branch, he had truly been unable to breathe under that strange aura.
Ron sized up the boy in front of him and grinned.
“Don’t look at me with that look.” Ron took a step forward, his voice lowered, every word clear.
“You are, Pirate King Gol D.
Roger’s…
that useless son?”
Ace’s pupils contracted, and the iron pipe in his hand was squeezed until it creaked.