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Chapter 42 - Chapter 42: The Left Behind Spoils of War

The clash between the Navy and the Roger Pirates had erupted without warning—and ended just as abruptly. After the Roger Pirates withdrew, Garp, Aokiji, and the others began tending to the aftermath, ferrying their wounded comrades back aboard the ship one by one.

Yoriichi Tsugikuni joined in as well, helping carry injured crew members back to the warship.

And it was during this cleanup effort that Yoriichi made a surprising discovery—despite the Navy's crushing defeat, not a single soul had perished. The worst injury belonged to Bogard, who had been pummeled brutally by Oden. His entire body was wrapped in bandages, but even he had survived.

The Roger Pirates... had held back.

Not long after they returned to the ship, the sailors who had been knocked unconscious by Roger's overwhelming Conqueror's Haki in the engine room and below decks began to stir, slowly regaining consciousness. When they saw their comrades return covered in wounds, their faces filled with shock.

Before Garp could even issue an order, a few captains had already stepped forward, taking charge of organizing those still able to move and tending to the wounded. Garp stood silently on the deck, watching for a long moment. Then, with a heavy heart, he strolled over to the railing, leaned his back against it, and turned his head to gaze out at the horizon—the direction in which the Roger Pirates had vanished.

His mind was troubled.

"So that bastard Roger... he's gathering the Poneglyphs?"

"That's no small thing... it's monumental."

Garp sighed to himself, his thoughts in turmoil.

He recalled the brief exchange he'd had with Roger during the battle. Something about it had struck a nerve. Roger had seemed on the verge of revealing something important until Oden had suddenly intervened, cutting him off.

Thinking back now, it was obvious. Roger had intended to tell him something.

Ever since the battle at God Valley years ago, Garp's relationship with Roger had become... complicated. Outwardly, he still led the charge in chasing Roger across the seas, same as before—but how much real effort he put into those pursuits, only Garp truly knew.

More often than not, he simply used the pretense of hunting Roger as an excuse to roam the seas and take down other pirates along the way. This particular mission had been aimed squarely at Roger, but only because the Roger Pirates had attempted to make contact with Big Mom, Charlotte Linlin. That had crossed a line for Garp.

But now, after coming face to face with the Roger Pirates again, Garp had a gnawing feeling that things were about to spiral into something far more complicated.

Roger's search for the Poneglyphs...

"The World Government won't ignore that."

"Roger... what kind of storm are you trying to unleash?"

Just as Garp stared blankly across the sea, lost in thought, the sound of voices rang out from the deck, Aokiji and Yoriichi, chatting nearby.

"Oh! Is this one of the Roger Pirates' swords?"

"Looks pretty damn good!"

"This blade feels like it's top quality!"

On deck, Aokiji held a sword in his hands, gazing at its gleaming, icy sheen with faint admiration. He didn't know much about swords, so he hadn't recognized the blade for what it was.

"Hmm, very well-crafted... and strange. It feels like it's drawing out my Haki..."

Beside him stood Yoriichi Tsugikuni, clutching the hilt of another blade, his eyes filled with fascination as he studied the weapon.

Unbeknownst to him, his Armament Haki was being siphoned by the sword. It clung to the blade involuntarily, flowing into it. Yoriichi could feel the slow drain—and couldn't help but marvel at it.

These two blades had once belonged to Kozuki Oden. After he'd been disarmed during the clash, Garp had confiscated them and tossed them aboard the ship. But for reasons unknown, the Roger Pirates hadn't returned to reclaim them.

When Garp heard the voices, he turned and spotted the swords in Yoriichi and Aokiji's hands. His brow furrowed in surprise. But the moment he saw Yoriichi handling that sword, his eyes went wide. He barked out urgently:

"Hey! Yoriichi, put that down now!"

"That sword's cursed! Don't touch it!"

Aokiji might not have recognized the blade, but Garp certainly did.

He was already familiar with the samurai who had wielded it aboard Roger's ship, Kozuki Oden. Both of Oden's swords were part of the 21 Great Grade Blades, legendary weapons of unmatched quality.

But the one in Yoriichi's hand, Enma was no ordinary blade.

It was a cursed sword. Even during Oden's lifetime, Enma had already begun transforming into a black blade, a rare and powerful evolution. Given enough time, its quality would surpass even its current legendary status.

Yet Enma had a fatal flaw: those who lacked sufficient strength would be drained of their Haki and collapse, maybe even die.

It had been said before, Haki was a latent force within all living beings. Those with talent could awaken and wield it. Those without talent might never draw it out—but they still possessed it.

And if that vital energy was forcibly drawn out beyond its limits... it could kill.

With a flash, Garp appeared at Yoriichi's side, a hint of concern in his expression. He reached out, ready to snatch the cursed blade from Yoriichi's grasp.

But Yoriichi instinctively dodged back.

He wasn't alarmed at all. In fact, his curiosity only grew. With sparkling eyes, he muttered to himself in awe:

"A demon sword, huh? Looks pretty powerful."

"Let's try it out."

As he spoke, Yoriichi strode swiftly to the edge of the ship. Gripping Enma tightly, he unleashed a sudden horizontal slash into the open air above the sea. In an instant, a burst of raw Haki exploded forth, forming a razor-sharp flying slash about one or two meters long.

But unlike the air blades Yoriichi had released before, this was something different, a slash composed purely of Haki. Its range was smaller, yes, but its power was on an entirely different level. This was no mere wind slash.

"Whooshhhhh!!"

The slash struck the distant ocean, tearing the sea surface apart. A deep wound stretched across the waves for dozens of meters before the water slowly surged back, swallowing the scar beneath the surface.

Garp, who had now reached Yoriichi's side, had already grabbed hold of his wrist. But upon witnessing the slash's devastating force, he froze.

After a brief pause, he quietly released Yoriichi's arm, leaned forward to peer at the sea, now eerily calm—and muttered in disbelief:

"A flying slash… a real flying slash!"

Regaining his composure, Garp turned sharply toward Yoriichi and exclaimed:

"You brat, did you already master the flow of Haki?!"

His voice was filled with shock and incredulity. He hadn't taught Yoriichi anything about that kind of advanced technique. And during their training sessions, Garp himself had never demonstrated it either.

His plan had been to wait until Yoriichi fully mastered basic Haki control before introducing the advanced applications like Haki flow.

That technique was notoriously difficult to learn. The elusive "feeling" required to control the flow was vague and abstract, nearly impossible to grasp. Many spent over a decade chasing it, only to achieve nothing.

Even in the world of pirates, innate talent was everything.

And yet, against all expectations…

Yoriichi had mastered it. Somehow, inexplicably… mastered it.

"A demon sword, is it…?" Yoriichi glanced down at Enma, then muttered, somewhat puzzled, "Doesn't seem all that special to me."

Hearing Garp's question, he turned his head and replied plainly:

"The flow of Haki? If that's what you mean, then yes I believe I have."

"I saw someone doing it when they were beating up Bogard, so I gave it a try. It worked pretty well—the power of my Haki increased significantly."

"And it even lets me attack from a distance."

As he spoke, Yoriichi casually set Enma down nearby, then drew his own katana from his waist. With practiced ease, he focused his Haki into the blade.

Garp narrowed his eyes slightly, activating Observation Haki to get a read on it. After a moment, he gave a subtle nod.

Then, something seemed to occur to him. He looked at Yoriichi with a puzzled expression and asked:

"You saw it? You mean, you saw the technique?"

"Mm. I saw it."

"Also…" Yoriichi continued, lifting his gaze to meet Garp's,

"I noticed something else, Roger seems to be suffering from a very serious illness. I don't think he has much time left."

As expected, this revelation completely threw Garp off.

His eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he was speechless, his entire body frozen by the weight of that information.

"Impossible… someone like him… how could he..."

He trailed off into silence.

Truth be told, Garp had already sensed something was wrong during their battle earlier. Compared to before, Roger had clearly declined. He was still immensely powerful but Garp had fought Roger more times than he could count.

He knew Roger's strength. No one understood it better than he did.

Garp didn't know how Yoriichi had seen through Roger's illness… but he knew the boy wasn't lying.

"So that's… how it is."

Garp's voice dropped, deep and heavy.

*********

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