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Almost as if he sensed something, the man with the bristly mustache turned and looked straight in Kyle's direction.
Through the rain-blurred lens of the telescope, that man's smiling face appeared, hazy but unmistakable.
Kyle lowered the scope and shifted his gaze.
Behind the pirate ship speeding through the storm, more ships trailed in scattered chaos. The ragged pursuers chased with confusion and fury, yet were left farther and farther behind. Even the air-sailing ships had been forced down to the sea surface by the storm, stuck and unable to fly.
The sudden storm had completely ruined the Sky Pirates' encirclement plan.
Ahead of Kyle and the others, he spotted ships coated with bubble film rising from beneath the waves.
Everything in the storm warped and blurred, but the skull flag of the Sky Pirates still made the group tense up all over again.
One ship after another surfaced. In the blink of an eye, there were ten.
The storm and the earlier battle had shredded the Sky Pirates' formation, scattering their fleet across the whole sea.
Kyle narrowed his eyes, stepping forward as pressure rolled off him. Black and red lightning crackled around his body as an overwhelming aura spread out.
But in the next heartbeat, he froze. His head snapped toward the sea to their right.
A dog-headed Navy warship was cutting through the storm at terrifying speed.
A figure suddenly leaped from the bow.
A low hum pulsed through the air.
For a moment the whole storm stopped. A domineering aura swept out, and a man with short black hair, a square jaw, and a wild grin swung his fist.
Lightning exploded downward, thick as a house beam. The sea caved in under the impact. Ten pirate ships shattered instantly, spraying splinters across the storm-dark sky.
"My beloved disciple, are you alright?"
"Forgive your teacher for being a little late!"
He burst out laughing, a booming roar that tore through the storm and reached Kyle's ears. Kyle's tense expression eased without him realizing it.
As the laughter echoed, the frozen storm began to move again.
The tiny silhouette dropped back onto the dog-headed warship.
"Vice Admiral Garp!"
"It's Vice Admiral Garp! We're saved!"
"We're really saved now!"
Cheers erupted from the officers around Kyle. In this era, Vice Admiral Garp wasn't just the Navy's strongest fighter. His very presence was a banner that calmed hearts and lifted morale.
His fame was built on real battles, not rumors.
Moments later, the two naval ships met. Kyle and the others boarded Garp's warship. Only then did Shimbu, Saul, and the others finally relax, grins spreading across their faces.
Garp strode over with a booming laugh.
"So, Kyle, how did it feel watching those two monsters fight?"
Kyle drew in a breath. "I'm still far behind."
Watching from a distance had already told him enough. The gap between him and those top-tier monsters was like a canyon. Even a fully awakened Conqueror's Haki could only narrow the distance. It didn't mean he was anywhere near their level.
Observation, Armament, raw physique, reflexes, combat instincts—none of those could be ignored.
"You're right. You're still far behind," Garp said, growing uncharacteristically serious. "But one day, you'll be their equal."
He believed it with absolute certainty. To him, Kyle was the one who could inherit his will and stand as a fighter on his level.
Kyle nodded firmly.
"Every true powerhouse is forged through battles between life and death," Garp said. "And you, with the qualities you have, will grow faster and farther than anyone."
He clapped Kyle on the shoulder, then lifted his head toward the storm with a sudden grin.
"I'm planning to chase Roger. Do you have the guts to come with your teacher?"
Kyle's eyes contracted.
Chase Roger?
Just seeing those two clash had stirred a primal fear deep in his gut. Could he really stand against someone like that?
But the hesitation lasted only a moment.
"I'll go."
Garp burst into another loud laugh, turning his back to Kyle as he spoke lightly into the storm.
"You have the potential of a world-class monster. An absurd ability. Outstanding talent."
"But your fundamentals are too thin. You've never received proper systematic training as a Marine."
"Sengoku thinks we should give you time and space to grow, let this promising seed mature before throwing you into rough seas."
"But."
Garp paused, then grinned wider.
"I disagree. You're different from everyone else. Even Kuzan, Sakazuki, and Borsalino can't compare to you."
"You can't die. You've survived bullets, beheading, cannon fire, poison—nothing can kill you. And all of that has forged a will of iron."
"Before you learned any combat skill, you awakened Conqueror's Haki."
"You were born to grow in hardship, unafraid of death, pushing forward step by step."
"A safe greenhouse isn't the place to raise a monster like you."
Listening to him, Kyle froze for a second, then laughed.
"I'd rather learn everything by your side anyway, Teacher Garp."
Garp laughed even louder and patted his shoulder again.
"I'll train you into the strongest Marine in history!"
He turned and walked away, still radiating the overwhelming presence of a man in his prime.
Kyle watched his broad, powerful back through the storm, thousands of thoughts churning in his heart.
Across the entire Navy, Garp's life was one of brilliance and tragedy. He raised a son, a disciple, and two grandsons, trying to make all of them Marines. Every one slipped through his fingers. Three became pirates, one joined the Revolutionary Army.
His entire life was spent fighting for a fragile, imperfect peace. Everything he did was for the justice he believed in.
He and Roger were close friends, yet he chased and captured him over and over because it was the path he chose.
He watched his own grandson executed in front of him, powerless to stop it. When his dear friend restrained him, he roared out those unforgettable words:
"Hold me down, Sengoku! Or I'll kill him!"
Two years after Marineford, he faced another painful moment on Hachinosu, standing against Kuzan, the disciple he'd raised with his own hands.
Kyle's expression grew complicated. The Garp he remembered had white hair, a still-strong but slightly stooped frame, an old man carrying sadness and loneliness behind every smile.
But right now—
This man was overwhelming. Wild. Unrestrained.
At the peak of his life. Living freer, happier, and more passionately than he ever would twenty years later.
These were Garp's brightest, strongest years.
This was the era of the man called the Hero of the Marines: Monkey D. Garp.
"And this era will be mine too."
Kyle lifted his head into the raging storm and whispered to himself.
"..."
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