Sky Island, God’s Island.
Under the orders of Sven, the Sky Island Committee, led by Gan Fall and Kalpa, began distributing land among the citizens.
The strongest warriors from both the Shandians and the Skypieans had been reorganized into the Thunder Cloud Guards, maintaining order across the island.
This force answered to Sven alone.
Even though Sven possessed enough power to wipe out Sky Island by himself, he still kept military authority firmly under his control.
It was not about domination, it was about preventing unnecessary chaos.
He had not come here to slaughter anyone.
He came for a quiet place to grow stronger, far from the reach of the World Government and the Marines.
While land distribution progressed smoothly, Sven stood alone before a Poneglyph, training.
To awaken Armament Haki through his own effort, he followed the brutal training method of Monkey D.
Garp, striking the Poneglyph repeatedly with his bare fists.
It was said that Garp once shattered eight mountains without using Haki, purely to strengthen his body.
After that, he crushed Don Chinjao’s drill shaped head with a single punch.
Sven intended to reach that level.
Since deciding to save for Iron Balloon, his remaining points were no longer enough to purchase both Armament Haki and Observation Haki.
Unless another wealthy buyer like Warhammer appeared and spent recklessly again.
But that was unlikely.
Even Gol D.
Roger’s sword, Ace, one of the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades, was only valued at ten thousand points by the system.
Yet Sven had sold a Den Den Mushi for the same price.
His entire strategy relied on attracting rich buyers.
In front of the Poneglyph, his fists continued to fall.
Bang, bang, bang.
His knuckles split open, blood staining the ancient stone, yet he did not stop.
Training like this was dull and exhausting.
Worse, his thoughts kept drifting back to the same question.
Why has Warhammer not placed another order?
“9999…”
“10000…”
After twelve hours, Sven completed his routine.
He had run around Sky Island three times, performed ten thousand punches, ten thousand push ups, and ten thousand kicks.
His body was soaked in sweat, salt crystals forming along his skin.
Still, it was worth it.
Strength was the only way to secure freedom in this world.
Only the strong could choose how to live.
The weak had never been given that right.
On the evening of November first, Sven finished washing up and lay on his bed, slightly annoyed.
Warhammer had not placed an order.
The next night passed the same way. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Still nothing.
By the third morning, there was no change.
On the fourth day, just before sunrise, Sven sat alone atop the Thunder God Palace, watching the horizon.
“The next major event…
should be the Buster Call on Ohara in two years.”
Sven held a certain respect for the scholars of Ohara.
They were stubborn, even foolish in a way, yet admirable.
In a world where the government suppressed the truth of the Void Century, they chose to pursue knowledge regardless of the consequences.
At the end, Professor Clover had shouted that the truth of history must be passed down.
They knew the danger.
They chose it anyway.
Not out of recklessness, but because their conscience as historians left them no other path.
Only those who understood the weight of erased history could truly respect it.
“I should go there when the time comes.”
Even if he could not save them, he could at least preserve the books within the Tree of Knowledge.
Anything the World Government opposed, Sven was inclined to support.
As someone who had once sailed with the Roger Pirates to Laugh Tale, he stood naturally against them.
Setting those thoughts aside, Sven returned to his daily training.
Far away, in the East Blue, Foosha Village.
The East Blue was called the weakest sea, and that reputation had much to do with Monkey D.
Garp.
After escorting Roger to Loguetown for execution, Garp had resumed patrolling the East Blue, crushing any pirates that appeared before returning home to rest.
For the first time in decades, he felt an unusual emptiness.
Chasing Roger had defined most of his life.
Now that Roger was gone, something felt missing.
But Garp had not forgotten Roger’s final request, made during their meeting in Impel Down.
To avoid suspicion, he planned to secretly travel to Baterilla in the South Blue to find Roger’s wife, Portgas D.
Rouge.
However, the moment he stepped into his home in Foosha Village, he froze.
Inside, a pregnant woman with long pink hair and freckles lay comfortably, sunbathing as if she owned the place.
“Nani?”
Garp stared in disbelief.
“Are you Dragon’s wife?”
Aside from his son Monkey D.
Dragon, he could not think of anyone else who would bring a pregnant woman into his house.
The woman stood and smiled slightly.
“I could be.”
Garp frowned.
“Could be?”
Then it clicked.
He quickly shut the door and lowered his voice.
“Rouge?”
She nodded.
Garp inhaled sharply.
“That’s not right.
You should be in the South Blue.”
Roger had been very clear about that.
Rouge calmly poured him a cup of tea.
“Three months ago, he arranged for someone to bring me here.”
“Who?” Garp asked immediately.
“Beelzebub Sven.”
Garp scratched his head, trying to recall the name.
Rouge added, “He has white hair.”
Recognition flashed in Garp’s eyes.
“That white haired brat who cooks well.”
Rouge returned to her room and brought out a letter, handing it to him.
“He left this for you.”
Garp opened it and read.
“To the great Marine Hero, Vice Admiral Garp.”
“Entrusted by Mr.
Dragon, I have brought your daughter in law, Portgas D.
Rouge, to your hometown.
Mr.
Dragon has already named your grandson Ace.
For the sake of his future, do not reveal his father’s identity.”
“If you dislike the name Ace, you may change it.
I suggest Luffy.”
“You would not want the World Government to learn that this child’s father is the leader of the Revolutionary Army, would you?”
Garp lowered the letter slowly and looked at Rouge.
“He told you everything?”
She nodded.
“And you agreed?”
She nodded again.
Garp fell silent for a moment, then reread the letter carefully.
This time, he understood the hidden meaning.
Ace was his biological grandson.
And Roger’s name must never be mentioned again.