13: 13.
The Hero Who Arrived Too Early 13: 13.
The Hero Who Arrived Too Early = 3rd Person’s POV = It finally happened.
The balance of the seas shifted ever so slightly, yet enough to send ripples across the world.
Jinbe had accepted the title of Warlord of the Sea.
And with that single decision—heavy with compromise, burdened with history—came another consequence.
Arlong was free.
Not just free, but walking under the shadow of authority, shielded by a system that called itself justice.
A former prisoner, now sailing under the banner of a man recognized by the World Government.
Some would call it diplomacy.
Others would call it a mistake.
The good thing was, this won’t last too long, because Arlong would soon leave the Sun Pirates, leaving the protection of the World Government.
— Far away, aboard a Marine vessel that cut through the sea with purpose, a certain old man simply grinned.
Monkey D.
Garp had been waiting for this.
Ever since those strange, oddly detailed letters reached him—letters written in a tone that felt both childish and disturbingly insightful—he had kept a close watch on the movements of the Sun Pirates.
Not officially, of course.
No report filed, no orders issued.
He just kept his sight on a single pirate in the center of all those letters.
Arlong.
“BAHAHAHAHA!” Garp laughed loudly, arms crossed as the wind whipped his ridiculous floral shirt.
“Everything really turned out as those letters said!” Behind him, ever composed, Bogard adjusted his glasses slightly.
“Those letters that predicted some future pirate movements,” he said flatly.
“They were still suspicious.
Their sources were questionable and we still couldn’t find the sender.” “Suspicious as they are, everything written there was correct!” Garp shot back, eyes gleaming.
“I said that if they were right, I would move to stop that little shark, so I’ll keep my words.” Bogard did not respond.
He always trusted Garp and followed Garp’s every decision, no matter how dangerous and risky they were.
Even if it also meant going against their superiors’ orders.
The moment Garp learned that Arlong had separated from the Sun Pirates, he began tracking him more actively.
And when the report came that Arlong Pirates were heading toward East Blue, Garp didn’t hesitate.
Orders?
Responsibilities?
Fleet duties?
He ignored them all, as usual.
Sengoku tried to stop him.
Kong tried to stop him.
But they couldn’t.
They never could stop him once he set his goal on something.
…
Well, he would still do his job as a Marine because his target was a pirate anyway, so at least his goal was still in the scope of his job.
“Garp!
You have responsibilities!” Sengoku barked.
“I do!” Garp replied cheerfully.
“And I’m handling one right now!” “YOU’RE LEAVING YOUR POST!” “I’m going on a field trip!
BAHAHAHA!” “You are NOT—” He was already gone.
And just like that, the Hero of the Marines sailed toward East Blue—not as an officer fulfilling orders, but as a man fulfilling a promise he made only to himself.
Because if those letters were true, then he had to stop Arlong or people would die, and he couldn’t just stay silent when he knew it would happen.
— Garp arrived on East Blue, but he went to a Marine Base first.
He stepped onto the island wearing his usual bright floral shirt, completely ignoring the stunned stares of local Marines when he came to park his eyecatching ship there before going to Conomi Islands with a normal ship.
Behind him, Bogard remained the picture of discipline, his formal suit immaculate even after the journey.
He just didn’t wear his Marine uniform to stay out of sigh The local Marine soldiers descended into chaos upon their arrival.
“V-VICE ADMIRAL GARP?!” “THE HERO?!” “WHY IS HE DRESSED LIKE A TOURIST?!” Garp waved casually.
“Relax!
I’m on vacation!” “You’re not,” Bogard said.
“Don’t mind the small details!” He was annoyed by Bogard’s remark, so he picked his nose in annoyance.
They left the rest of the crew behind at the base, choosing to move quietly to Conomi Islands.
— The Conomi Islands were quiet and very peaceful when Garp arrived.
A cluster of small islands, dotted with modest villages.
Their lives revolved around fishing nets, small farms, and routines so predictable that even the wind seemed to follow a schedule.
It was the kind of place most pirates would ignore.
Which made it the perfect place for the wrong kind of pirates.
And that kind of pirate crew would come soon, so Garp waited for them to come.
— Days passed and Arlong didn’t come.
But Garp wasn’t impatient.
Not yet.
“They’ll come,” he muttered, glancing toward the horizon.
“Fishmen don’t take the long route.” Bogard nodded.
“They can cross the Calm Belt without ships.” “Yeah… lucky bastards.” “Would you like to swim across it?” “Absolutely not.
Too troublesome.” They wandered from village to village, observing, waiting.
And then, in Cocoyashi Village, something unexpected happened.
They met her.
Belle-mere froze the moment she saw him.
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up.
“V-VICE-ADMIRAL GARP!” She snapped into a perfect salute, voice firm despite the shock.
Beside her, two small girls stared up in confusion.
Nami blinked.
“Mom… why are you yelling?” Nojiko tilted her head.
“Is he a pirate?” Garp leaned forward slightly, peering at Belle-mere.
“Oh?
You recognized me?” he said, genuinely surprised.
“I thought my disguise was perfect!” Bogard said nothing.
But he thought to himself, if that was a disguise, then someone could hide their identity only using glasses.
Belle-mere’s expression softened into something almost reverent.
“There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize the Marine Hero,” she said.
“You were… my inspiration.” Garp scratched his cheek, laughing.
“BAHAHAHA!
Inspiration?
That’s a dangerous choice!” Despite himself, his eyes flickered toward the children.
“…You’re not in the Marines anymore?” “No,” she replied, gently placing a hand on each girl’s head.
“I resigned… to raise my daughters.” Garp paused.
For a brief moment, the laughter faded.
“…I see,” he said quietly.
Then, just as quickly, the grin returned.
“If I could, I’d quit too and go bother my grandson all day!
BAHAHAHA!” “Mrs.
Tsuru would hit you,” Bogard said.
“She already does!” They followed her to her home.
It was modest.
No—that was being generous.
It was worn, patched, and clearly struggling to keep up with time itself.
Yet the orange trees outside were vibrant.
Garp plucked one, took a bite, and his eyes widened slightly.
“Oh!
This is good!” Nami and Nojiko watched him like he might eat the entire orchard.
Which, to be fair, was a valid concern.
They didn’t have much.
That much was obvious.
So when Garp left money behind—far more than the oranges were worth—Belle-mere hesitated.
“I didn’t—” “It’s for the kids,” Garp interrupted simply.
Later, as they walked away, Garp spoke again.
“They cooked oranges.” “Yes,” Bogard replied.
“…That’s rough.” There was a pause.
“She could’ve stayed in the Marines,” Garp muttered.
“A steady salary.
Better food.” “But she didn’t,” Bogard said.
“…Yeah.” Garp looked back once.
“Stubborn.” Then he smiled.
“And I don’t hate that kind of stubbornness.” The next day, Garp returned.
This time carrying a massive boar over his shoulder.
A boar he hunted just this morning.
Bogard just followed him silently as they went to Cocoyashi Village.
But before they could reach Belle-mere’s house— Chaos.
Screams tore through the air.
Smoke rose above rooftops.
Something had arrived.
Something violent.
Garp didn’t say a word.
He moved.
The ground cracked beneath his steps as he shot forward, Bogard following close behind.
His Observation Haki flared.
And there, in front of Belle-mere’s house, they saw him.
Arlong.
For a brief, absurd moment, they also saw Belle-mere.
Standing in front of the tall Shark Fishman, fighting him.
In a short time, she jammed into Arlong’s mouth.
Garp stopped.
“…Oh?” Bogard adjusted his stance.
“She’s quite skilled,” he noted.
“But not enough,” Garp replied.
CRACK.
The rifle shattered between Arlong’s jaws.
He bit the rifle as if it was a rice cracker.
“SHAHAHAHA!” Arlong laughed, rising with monstrous confidence.
“Humans are inferior!
No matter what you do—” Garp sighed, “…I was hoping he’d gotten less annoying.” The situation unfolded exactly as the letters had described.
Arlong’s demands of money until Belle-mere’s decision.
Garp, who had seen many people selfishly chose their own lives, was smiling on her decision.
She chose her daughters without hesitation.
“…What an idiot,” Garp muttered, but there was no insult in it, only respect.
Arlong raised his pistol, aiming it at Belle-mere.
Her children screamed.
Time seemed slowed, and then— A shadow fell from the sky.
CRASH!
A massive boar slammed down, crushing Arlong into the ground.
Silence followed.
“ARLONG-SAN?!” Arlong’s crew mates shouted.
Garp landed casually.
As if he had merely stepped down from a porch.
“So,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “you’re Arlong.” His grin widened.
“You really don’t learn, do you?” Belle-mere stared, the villagers stared, and the Fishmen hesitated.
Because suddenly, the air felt heavier.
“You got out of prison,” Garp continued, voice light but eyes sharp.
“And the first thing you do… is come right back to this?” He cracked his knuckles.
“Are you that eager to return to Impel Down?” Arlong pushed the boar off him with a snarl, rising to his full height.
His glare burned with fury.
“You… old human…” He didn’t recognize Garp.
Of course he didn’t.
Who in their right mind would expect the Marine Hero to be standing in the middle of a small East Blue village, dressed like a vacationing grandpa?
“You have a death wish.” Arlong snarled.
Garp laughed loudly, “BAHAHAHAHA!” He stepped forward.
Just one step made the ground beneath his foot cracked, and the air shifted.
“Oh, I’ve heard that one before,” Garp said, grinning like a man who had already won.
“Usually right before I punch someone.” Behind him, Bogard rested his hand on his sword’s hilt, ready to assist anytime.
Although he doubted he would get the chance to.
Arlong still didn’t understand that the freedom he had just gained, the future he thought he had secured, was already slipping through his fingers.
And this time, there would be no escape.
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CHAPTER 63.
A Pooping Man’s Rage CHAPTER 64.
Drum — HolyRicekun