"Hmph!" Garp grabbed a fistful of Ace's orange shirt, hauling him to his feet. "You're coming with me! But remember—one wrong move, and I'll personally toss you into the lowest, darkest cell in Impel Down!"
Ace looked up, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. "Old man... if it weren't for who my father was... maybe I really would have chosen to become a Marine."
The words landed like a physical blow to Garp's chest. The old Vice Admiral's stride hitched almost imperceptibly. A storm of complex, painful emotions flashed in his battle-weary eyes.
He turned, truly looking at this grandson who had been nothing but trouble since he could walk. For the first time, he saw past the ever-present, cynical smirk to a rare, raw sincerity beneath.
"Brat..." Garp's voice was rough with a feeling he couldn't name. His large, calloused hand came down heavily on Ace's shoulder. "No one gets to choose where they come from. But the path you walk from here... that's yours to decide."
The fluorescent lights of the corridor stretched their shadows long and distorted on the floor.
Garp was silent for a long moment, a internal war visible on his face. Finally, he let out a deep, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of decades. "Fine. Let's go. I'll take you to get some air. But you stay in the designated areas. Understood?"
Ace grinned, the Seastone cuffs clanking as he moved. "Loud and clear!"
Stepping out of the oppressive detention block, the afternoon sun washed over his face. Ace squinted, taking a deep, cleansing breath. The air at Marineford was sharp with the tang of sea salt and ambition. In the distance, he could hear the synchronized shouts of new recruits drilling on the parade ground.
Garp walked ahead, hands clasped behind his back, throwing suspicious glances over his shoulder every few steps, half-expecting the kid to pull a vanishing act. But Ace was surprisingly docile, his eyes merely roaming over his surroundings with open curiosity.
*'Big Brother's plan is actually working...'* Ace thought, keeping his face a careful mask of nonchalance.
His gaze swept across the massive Marine emblem emblazoned on the central plaza, and a system chime echoed in his mind.
*[Ding! New Sign-in Location Detected: Marineford Plaza]*
*[Sign-in Reward: Rokushiki - Beginner Proficiency!]*
Ace's eyes sparkled. It wasn't the Haki he was hoping for, but the Marine Six Powers were nothing to scoff at!
It was a massive upgrade from the prison sign-in rewards, which had been useless junk like "Standard-Issue Marine Handcuffs" and "Key Mold Diagrams"—and they weren't even made of Seastone! Utterly worthless.
While this was better, it was still a far cry from the Conqueror's Haki he truly coveted.
"Hey! Are you listening to me?" Garp's voice boomed, yanking him back to the present. "The mess hall is straight ahead. What do you want to eat?"
Ace rubbed his growling stomach, temporarily shelving his sign-in ambitions. "Meat! As much as you've got!"
...
The Marineford mess hall was cavernous and bright, filled with the clatter of cutlery and the murmur of conversation.
Long buffet tables were neatly arranged, laden with all manner of dishes. Fresh-faced recruits moved down the line in an orderly fashion. The entire hall hummed with disciplined energy.
The moment Garp led Ace through the doors, the ambient noise dipped noticeably.
Dozens of eyes, some curious, some wary, tracked the "special guest" with the tell-tale Seastone cuffs. Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Ace's eyes scanned the veritable feast, but the heavy shackles on his wrists made him shrug in resignation.
He turned to Garp, his tone disarmingly earnest. "Old man, I'm being genuine about turning over a new leaf. If I become a Warlord, I'd practically be on your side, wouldn't I?"
He shook his wrists, the chains rattling. "Keeping me locked up like this is so inconvenient. Especially for eating."
Garp stopped and raised a bushy eyebrow. He glanced at his stoic right-hand man, Bogard, who gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. *'He can't escape from here.'*
"Hmph!" Garp grunted and waved a hand at the guards. "Take them off."
With a definitive *click*, the Seastone cuffs fell away. Ace flexed his wrists, a long sigh escaping him at the return of unencumbered movement.
Garp's hand clamped down on Ace's shoulder with bone-jarring force, making the younger man wince. "Remember what you said. Don't you dare make trouble for me."
His eyes were hard, yet a flicker of deeply buried concern shone through. "This isn't Windmill Village, boy. If you start something here, there's no one to bail you out."
Those three words—*Windmill Village*—acted like a key, unlocking a floodgate of memories.
Vivid images flashed through Ace's mind: running through grassy hills with Luffy and Sabo, Dadan's roaring scoldings, Makino's gentle smile...
His defiant gaze softened. He nodded, the gesture uncharacteristically solemn. "I know."
This time, he truly meant it. Causing a scene was the last thing on his mind. Sign-in opportunities were a far more valuable currency.
As Ace stood before the overflowing buffet, another crisp chime sounded in his mind.
*[Ding! New Sign-in Location Detected: Marineford Mess Hall]*
*[Sign-in Reward: Life Return - Stamina Recovery!]*
*[Effect: Rapidly digest food to restore stamina at an accelerated rate!]*
His eyes lit up like supernovas, a grin spreading across his face before he could stop it. This ability was perfect! Maximum stamina was critical, whether for fighting or... well, anything else.
"Brat, what's that look for?" Garp demanded, arriving with a plate piled comically high with food, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Nothing," Ace said, quickly schooling his features into neutrality. He grabbed a plate and began piling food onto it with frantic energy. "Just... the food here is really good."
Garp hummed, not entirely convinced, but his attention was quickly stolen by Ace's horrifying, vacuum-like consumption of the meal.
Ace devoured three heaping plates of food in the time it took a normal person to finish one, his speed leaving the surrounding Marine officers gaping.
Even more astonishing was the visible effect. As the food vanished, the pallor left by the Seastone faded from Ace's face, replaced by a healthy flush. The raw marks on his wrists from the cuffs seemed to soften and fade.
"Old man! Another hundred servings of steak!" Ace wiped his mouth, his eyes already scanning for more.
Garp's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly vanished into his hairline. "Since when did you turn into a bottomless pit, you idiot?!"
Ace just flashed a brilliant, unrepentant grin. "Gotta start this 'new leaf' thing right. A well-fed man is a reformed man."
A short while later,
The Marineford mess hall was utterly, profoundly silent.
The stack of empty plates in front of Ace formed a small, precarious tower. A conservative estimate put his consumption at well over a hundred pounds of meat.
Yet, his stomach remained perfectly, bafflingly flat. The officers around them had forgotten their own meals, their utensils frozen mid-air as they stared at the human black hole in their midst.
"BUURP—"
Ace let out a roar of a belch that echoed in the silent hall, then casually wiped the grease from his chin. Only then did he notice that the entire cafeteria's population was staring at him, motionless. Even the server behind the counter stood frozen, a ladle dangling from his hand.
A visible vein throbbed on Garp's temple. He shot to his feet, his chair screeching violently against the polished floor. "If you're done turning my mess hall into a spectacle, let's go! NOW!"
....
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