Chapter 2: The Reality of Strength
The warship's cannon fire, precise and controlled, landed in the sea surrounding the pirate ship. The resulting explosions churned the water into a frenzy, causing the smaller vessel to rock violently back and forth on the turbulent surface.
On the pirate deck, chaos erupted. Sailors stumbled and fell, clutching at rails and ropes. No one could keep a firm footing on the wildly shaking ship, not even the captain himself. This single fact revealed everything about the crew's weakness. They couldn't even maintain their balance. If they ever tried to sail the Grand Line, they wouldn't need to meet a strong enemy—the infamous, treacherous weather would wipe them out on its own.
"Damn it!" the pirate captain snarled, holding onto the mainmast for dear life. "These Marines are hiding behind their cannons! Just wait until we get close to that warship! I'll cut down every last one of them to vent my anger!"
His confidence was as hollow as his skills. He was like an ant shouting at a giant, completely blind to the immense, unbridgeable gap in power between them. This arrogance only sped him along the path to his own destruction.
The warship's barrage continued, each shot deliberately missing the pirate ship's hull under the Marines' expert control. Not a single cannonball struck the vessel itself.
Soon, the two ships drew close enough for boarding, the distance closing for what the pirates foolishly thought would be a ship-to-ship battle.
Every Marine on the warship stood ready, their postures disciplined and their eyes sharp. Their very demeanor screamed that they were elite soldiers.
In stark contrast, the pirates were a miserable sight. They clung to whatever they could to stay upright. The deck was a foul mess, littered with puddles of vomit. The violent rocking from the near-miss cannon fire had seasickened these so-called sailors who roamed the sea.
Seeing the pirates in such a pitiful state, Garp's face showed open disdain. He couldn't understand it. Why would people this weak ever choose to become pirates? Was the treasure of Gold Roger really that tempting?
For a man like Garp, even a mountain of gold was just useless scrap metal. The only purpose it might serve was as a target for his fist training.
"Snap out of it, you useless lot! The Marines are right on top of us!" the pirate captain yelled, having just recovered his own stomach. The moment he saw the imposing formation of Marines, he knew he had bitten off more than he could chew. In all his years as a pirate, he'd run from Marines before, but he'd never seen a group that carried such an aura.
But it was too late for regrets. They couldn't escape. The Marine warship was upon them, and its speed far outstripped their own pathetic vessel.
The captain's shouting did have some effect. The pirates blinked, shaking off their dizziness. They weakly gripped their cutlasses and pistols, swaying on their feet as they tried to face Garp and his men.
"What a bunch of sea trash," Garp muttered.
His eyes scanned their weapons, spotting dried, brownish stains of blood on some of the blades. A wave of hot anger rose in his chest, and with it, a fresh spike of resentment toward Gold Roger. If Roger hadn't spoken those final words and launched this "Great Pirate Era," the seas would have far fewer of these vermin.
"Prepare to engage!" Garp ordered, his tone now completely serious. "Send all this worthless scum to the bottom of the sea!"
One should never mistake Garp's usually cheerful demeanor for weakness. In the Marines, only Admiral Zephyr had ever carried the title "The No-Killer." Countless pirates had met their end by Garp's fist. While he could be kind, when he moved, he did so with devastating finality.
"Yes, Vice Admiral Garp!" the Marines chorused.
Their unified shout carried across the water to the pirate ship. Some of the pirates perked up, the name ringing a faint bell.
"Vice Admiral Garp… where have I heard that?" one pirate mumbled, his face pale.
"I've heard it too… sounds like someone really famous. But he's not a pirate, right?"
"Are you stupid?" another pirate snapped, slapping the first on the back of the head. "What kind of pirate wears a Marine uniform, stands on a warship, and gets called 'Vice Admiral'? Use your brain!"
It seemed a lack of intelligence was a common trait among this crew.
"Garp… Garp… GARP!" a third pirate suddenly shouted, his eyes wide with dawning horror. He had finally remembered. "Vice Admiral Garp is the Marine Hero! He's the one who cornered the Pirate King, Gold Roger!"
The name crashed over the pirate deck like a tidal wave. Now they all remembered. Garp was arguably the most famous man in the world. Their slow reaction was only due to their seasickness and muddled minds.
"Hmph. A little late to figure it out," Garp said, seeing the raw terror now etched on every pirate's face, the captain's included. Knowing who he was stole the last shred of their courage to even lift their weapons.
"Utter garbage."
What followed could barely be called a battle. It was a one-sided suppression.
As the Marines boarded the pirate ship, many pirates immediately threw down their weapons, raising their hands in surrender. A few stubborn ones tried to resist, but only one fate awaited them: death.
One pirate, thinking himself clever, had secretly aimed his flintlock pistol at Garp's head. In his mind, all he had to do was pull the trigger and the great Marine Hero's head would explode.
He never got the chance. A Marine lieutenant spotted the movement and disarmed him with a swift strike before he could even blink. Even if the shot had been fired, a simple bullet would have done nothing to Garp—unless it was imbued with Armament Haki. And the chances of finding a Haki user on a common East Blue pirate crew were precisely zero percent.
"Report, Vice Admiral Garp!" a Marine sergeant called out, saluting. "Seven pirates killed. Thirty-six captured. No injuries on our side."
"Well done," Garp nodded. "I'll see that you all get proper credit for this."
The engagement hadn't required much description. It was over almost before it began. Even the pirate captain had surrendered without a fight. In the face of such absolute, overwhelming strength, any thought of trickery or resistance was utterly pointless.
(End of Chapter)
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