While his little toy still clung to empty hopes of reclaiming her former life as a queen — only to fall into yet another disappointment — Jason rose from the bed, pulled a blanket over Baccarat, and cast a glance toward the entrance of the casino. Garp had just walked in, accompanied by his ever-present right hand, Bogard.
Jason already knew the visit was meant for him. And though he wasn't particularly surprised, he did wonder what Garp wanted to talk about.
The memories he held of the old hero weren't exactly pleasant. As someone who deeply valued family, Jason couldn't comprehend the idea of abandoning a son — or a woman — for the sake of an empty symbol called justice. To him, Garp was exactly that: the face of a false justice, dressed in glory and rot. Even so, he wanted to talk to him. He had questions.
Knock.
Before the messenger's hand could strike the door a second time, Jason was already outside — like a phantom — and began walking calmly.
"Let's go."
The woman who had come to announce the visit instinctively took a step back, startled by his sudden appearance.
"J-Jason-sama… Vice Admiral Garp is here to see you…"
She stammered, keeping her head low as she guided him. Jason offered a slight smile at the reaction — it was always amusing to see the effect he had. His charm was enough to draw women in with ease, but if a girl was too afraid to even meet his eyes, then it wasn't worth the effort. Shy women could be fun to tease… but if they weren't beautiful, not even that was worth the trouble.
The walk to the meeting was silent. Not a word exchanged — only the soft steps of the woman leading Jason through the opulent corridors of the casino. When they stopped before a lavish door, she stepped aside and lowered her head.
Standing at the entrance was an imposing man, wearing the traditional white Marine coat draped over his shoulders. His gray suit matched the wide-brimmed hat tilted slightly over his eyes: Bogard, Garp's right hand.
Jason barely gave him a glance.
The door opened on its own, as if the very room recognized his presence, and he entered without ceremony. He soon spotted the old Garp — sitting comfortably, noisily chewing on a rice cracker as if it were just another afternoon, not a meeting with one of the most dangerous men alive.
Jason didn't greet him. He walked with slow, confident steps to a shelf of fine liquor, where aged bottles sat labeled with absurd prices. Without hurry, he picked the most expensive-looking one, poured himself a drink in a tall glass, and made his way to a luxurious armchair, settling into it like a king on his throne.
Swirling the golden liquid with subtle movements, he brought the glass to his lips and savored the first sip with the same calm that had followed him since he entered. Only then, after appreciating the taste of undeniably human-quality alcohol, did Jason raise his eyes and meet Garp's gaze for the first time.
==
From the moment Jason walked in, Garp felt it.
Even as he pretended indifference, munching on his rice cracker, his senses were sharp. Decades of battle had taught him to recognize danger — not through noise… but through silence.
Jason made no noise at all.
Measured steps. Upright posture. A gaze that asked for no permission.
It was like watching a predator wrapped in a prince's skin.
Garp couldn't help but observe — and admit it.
Jason's elegance was real, refined, almost noble. From the choice of his suit, the way he held the glass, to the subtle motion of swirling the liquid — as if he were tasting more than a drink… as if he were savoring the world.
But to Garp, that wasn't vanity.
No. It was control.
That calm, that charm… it was all a mask for something far more lethal.
Jason was the kind of man who would smile before slitting your throat — and do it cleanly, without dirtying his hands.
Garp had faced loud, sadistic pirates before…
But Jason was different.
He didn't shout.
He made you go quiet.
The conversation to come would be, at the very least, interesting.
==
Jason rested the glass on the arm of the chair and crossed his legs with elegance, keeping his eyes locked on the old man before him.
"Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp…" he said in a calm, almost friendly tone — though there was something sharp beneath his voice. "Hero of the Marines, father of the world's most wanted revolutionary… and grandfather to a soon-to-be executed man."
Garp kept chewing his rice cracker, his expression unchanged. He swallowed and wiped the crumbs from his glove with the palm of his hand.
"Heh. You talk like someone who's already written the ending, kid."
"I only watch what's right in front of me," Jason replied, pouring himself another drink. "And what I see… is a man sitting atop an empire of contradictions."
Garp let out a low chuckle. A rough sound, empty of joy.
"I've been called worse. But you don't strike me as the type who invited me here just to throw insults."
Jason swirled the liquid in his glass again and glanced briefly at the amber reflection of the light in it. Then he looked back at Garp — and now, there was seriousness in his eyes.
"I didn't call you. You came to me."
"Fair enough." Garp adjusted himself in the chair, the smile fading from his face. "And I came because I wanted to understand what you're after. Executing Celestial Dragons, exposing the rot within the Marines… shaking the world like this comes at a cost."
Jason tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing a flawed piece of art.
"You had the power to change all of it, Garp. You brushed shoulders with monsters, danced among titans… but you never cut the head off a single one. In the end, you always kneeled to a justice that couldn't even protect your own family."
Garp's eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, the room seemed to grow heavier.
"Watch your step, boy. You have no idea what it means to carry the world on your back."
Jason smiled, but there was no humor on his face.
"I didn't come to carry the world.
I came to rebuild it… after I break the old man's bones."
Silence fell between them like a blade. Outside the door, Bogard remained motionless — but his hand was already resting on the hilt of his sword.
Garp, meanwhile, folded his arms.
"So that's it. A kid with too much power, too sharp a tongue, and not enough respect."
"A man," Jason corrected coldly. "And you're not here to measure my words, Garp. You're here because deep down… you want to know if I'm truly the monster they say I am — or the liberator you never had the courage to become."
Silence descended on the room once again, broken only by Jason's dry, quiet laugh.
"Tell me, Garp… do you still sleep well at night, knowing the whole world now knows about your friendship with Roger? That you raised his son? That you lied to everyone for years?"
Garp closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at Jason with steady resolve.
"I sleep just fine. Because I know what I did, and why I did it. And I know Ace didn't deserve to carry the weight of his father's blood."
"Hmmm… answer me something, then.
If Ace had listened to you… if he had joined the Marines like you wanted…
What would you have done when they found out he was Roger's son?"
Garp stopped chewing.
The silence between them grew heavy — like the air before a storm.
"The Marines wouldn't have accepted it. The World Government? Even less.
Sooner or later, the secret would've leaked. Gol D. Roger's blood flowing through the veins of a so-called soldier of justice…
So what was the plan, Garp?"
Garp closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them, they were shadowed — filled with memory, with guilt, with pride.
"I would've done what I always do… what I can do.
I'd have held the world back with my fists if I had to.
Like I did for Ace. For Luffy. For Dragon, when he chose to become the Government's number one enemy.
But… I'm no god, Jason.
I'm just an old man who never figured out how to protect his family the right way."
"And yet you chose the Marines.
You chose obedience over protection."
Garp responded firmly.
"No.
I chose what I thought was best for them… even if they hated me for it.
I thought that inside the Marines, Ace might have a chance.
That they'd be safer on the 'right side.'
The truth is…
There is no right side.
Only choices.
And every choice comes with a price."
Jason leaned back again, his eyes still fixed on Garp like sharpened blades trying to dissect not just the man before him, but everything he represented.
Deep down, he didn't see just a Marine hero — he saw the symbol of a gear turning within a rotting system, a stone pillar holding up a structure that should've crumbled centuries ago.
To Jason, the birth of pirates wasn't an aberration... it was a consequence.
And, ironically, a consequence of men like Garp.
Men who chose to follow orders instead of breaking them.
Men who, even knowing the rot at the top, chose to remain silent.
Men who could have changed the world — but settled for holding it up.
The true origin of the Pirate Era wasn't Roger, nor the One Piece. It was the cowardice of those who knew too much... and did too little.
Garp let out a long sigh, heavy. Not from exhaustion, but from memory.
His eyes, so used to seeing monsters, now saw something worse: a man with enough conviction and power to carry out every threat he made.
He slowly uncrossed his arms and spoke — not raising his voice, but with a steel-bending firmness:
"You blame me. Like all the others."
Jason didn't respond. He just observed. And that irritated Garp more than any scream could.
"Tell me something, Jason…" Garp leaned slightly forward. "Have you ever held a child in your arms and known, in that very instant, that the world would try to destroy him from his first cry?"
Silence lingered. Garp continued.
"I saw it with Dragon. Then with Ace. And even so... I tried. I gave them what I could. A roof. A family. But never the world."
He clenched his fist.
"You talk like it's all so simple. Kill the rotten ones, tear down the system, rebuild from scratch. But the world isn't a row of dominoes waiting for your hand. It fights back. It resists. And in the process... people die. Children die."
Jason finally spoke, his voice still low, but razor-sharp:
"And if nothing is done... they keep dying. Just silently. Like it happened in Ohara. Like it's happening now, in every corner of the world where the nobles laugh while the people bleed."
"I wanted Ace to be a free man. For Luffy to find his own path. And if that's my failure... then let me be judged for it."
Jason gave a half-smile.
"You're being judged right now. Just not by me."
"Then by who?" Garp growled.
"By the world itself." Jason rose from the armchair.
Garp stood as well. The floor seemed to groan beneath their weight.
For a second, the Marine hero and Jason stared at each other like two eras on the verge of collision.
Silence hung between them like a suspended blade. Jason, standing before the chair, raised his glass one last time and emptied it calmly. Then, he set it down on a small glass table and finally spoke—directly, without half-measures:
"I will destroy the World Government."
The sentence fell like muffled thunder. Garp didn't move—but the air grew heavier.
Jason continued, his voice solid as granite:
"I'll rip them from power. Every Celestial Dragon, every rotten elder sitting on a golden throne... will be reduced to dust.
The system they built on blood and silence will fall. And what I build in its place will be a thousand times better.
Fairer. Stronger."
He stepped forward.
"I won't do this alone. The Revolutionary Army is already in motion, and I will cooperate with them… as far as it suits us."
Jason's eyes gleamed with intensity.
"And you, Garp… you have a choice. You can stand up and do what's truly right for the first time… or keep protecting the ruins of a world doomed to fall. If you want to join us, you'll be welcome. History can still remember you as someone who did the right thing — in the end."
Jason stopped a few steps from the Marine hero. Then, like a sentence delivered with finality, he added:
"But if you choose to stay in the way… we'll be enemies.
And I will kill you on the battlefield."
Tension cracked through the air like a spark.
Bogard, outside, instinctively clenched his fist on the sword's hilt.
Garp didn't move.
For long seconds, only the sound of wind against the windows filled the space.
Until slowly, Garp rose from the chair. Broad shoulders, imposing presence. He didn't look like an old man in that moment. He looked like a legend made flesh and bone.
His eyes met Jason's. And for the first time… there was respect.
"You speak like a boy who saw the worst of the world too soon.
But you also speak like a man who might… maybe… change it."
He took a deep breath. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips — not sarcasm, but something rarer in Garp: melancholy.
"I will think about it, Jason. Not out of fear.
But because if I'm going to stand against the Marines… against my own friends… then I need to be sure you are more than just sharp words."
Jason shrugged.
"You don't have much time."
Garp nodded slightly. And before leaving, he threw one last phrase over his shoulder:
"Just don't forget one thing…
Heroes fall. But monsters do too."
With that, Garp turned and left, leaving the room in silence — a silence heavy with the weight of the future.