"Despicable!!!"
Garp's face darkened the moment he saw Luffy. A low, furious growl escaped him. He'd only come out to see his grandson, and now—because of Sengoku's orders—he'd been dragged into this mess. To make matters worse, he then saw his precious grandson in the hands of these thugs. The timing couldn't have been worse.
"You scoundrels! Let my grandson go this instant!" Garp bellowed.
"Garp, let me say it again: we're bandits, not pirates. Call us bandits, got it?" Adrian replied with a smile. "And you think I'll just let your grandson go?"
Garp inhaled twice to calm the combustion in his chest. The sight of Luffy—lifeless in Grimmjow's grip, locked in seastone manacles—only made his blood boil, yet it forced him to think. These bandits hadn't expected Garp; it's possible they planned for this all along. The fact that his grandson had fallen into their hands might not have been an accident.
"So… what do you want with my grandson?" Garp forced out.
Adrian smiled wider. "Oh, the demand's simple. Ten Devil Fruits. How about it?"
Garp leaped as if struck. "You've got to be kidding me! Do you think Devil Fruits grow like cabbages? Even if I sold myself, I couldn't come up with ten of those!"
Adrian snorted. "You, a Navy man, really are poor? That's adorable."
"We don't serve in the Marines to make money!" Garp snapped, furious. His grandson was in their hands, and being insulted on top of it was more than he could swallow.
"Justice, huh," Adrian mocked. "Listening to you preach justice is laughable. Three years of hunting a non-aligned island with a whole naval convoy—if that's justice, then I'm a saint."
Garp bristled. The name "justice" came out of his mouth like a challenge, but Adrian treated it like a joke.
Adrian's smile turned cold. "Ten Devil Fruits. Non-negotiable. I'll give you one month. If you don't produce them by then, well… consider your grandson's life forfeit."
He added slowly, casually: "As for Smoker and his crew—their ransom is three Devil Fruits. Bring them to me, same deadline. If I don't see what I want, prepare a funeral."
Adrian made no attempt to spare Garp any dignity. He was a bandit leader, not a philanthropist—and his system and his law were ruthless.
"Do you intend to go to war with the Marines?" Garp demanded, barely holding back the tremor in his voice.
"Exactly. I'm standing against the Marines. Any objections?" Adrian answered smoothly.
Garp clenched his fists. He wanted to strike—he wanted to crash through Adrian's throat and take Luffy back. But around him stood power of a different sort: men whose strength far exceeded ordinary threats. If he attacked recklessly, he might cost Smoker and the other Marines their lives. The thought chilled him.
"You best not make a move, Garp," Adrian warned. "If you try anything, I won't guarantee your grandson will remain intact."
To make the threat real, Grimmjow dragged his blade across Luffy's throat—just enough to show they meant what they said. It was a cold, efficient confirmation: this was not bluster.
"Cowardly scum!" Garp roared, but it was a roar that could do nothing but vent his fury.
"Thanks for the compliment," Adrian replied lightly. "One month. If nobody shows at Roge Town with the goods, don't blame me for tearing up the ransom."
"Madara, withdraw," Adrian called, and Uchiha Madara broke off his towering Susanoo, returning his chakra armor to his body and stepping down to the deck. The three ships—Going Merry, Shark, and the prize warship—began to put distance between themselves and Garp's Dog-Head.
Garp remained on his ship, watching them sail away with a face like storm clouds. He knew that if he tried to pursue, the bandits would hurt Luffy; that thought restrained him. So he did the only thing he could: order action and call for reinforcements.
"Vice Admiral Garp… what should we do next?" his aide asked, overwhelmed. They hadn't expected such a brazen kidnapping—an entire naval vessel seized, and now the grandson of the legendary Marine was being held as ransom. If word spread, the entire Marine hierarchy would tremble.
"Tell Sengoku everything," Garp said. "Tell him this crew has at least one member whose strength matches a Yonko-level force."
The aide blinked and scrambled to obey.
On the Going Merry, Nami's face had gone ashen.
"G-Garp? You actually kidnapped Garp's grandson? We're doomed. The Marine hero himself is looking at us now… we might as well retire to the Hindrance City and live out our days in peace," she mumbled, shaking.
For Nami's generation, Garp was legend. The stories of him beating pirates into submission were the lullabies of the East Blue. When Roger's age ended and the Great Age began, the World Government had made Garp into its face: when people heard his name, they thought of the man who had once dragged Gol D. Roger into custody. Even the younger folks might not know the full tale of God Valley, but they knew Garp's name.
So when she realized Adrian had used Garp's grandson to extort the Navy, she went numb.
Adrian slapped the top of her head. "Come on, have some faith in your boss. Garp is strong, but I'm no pushover. Did you see Madara and Garp just now? They were evenly matched. And besides—I'm here too. A single Garp won't scare me."
His confidence was not empty. The system had gifted him absurd advantages. Less than a month in this world and he'd already leveled up beyond ordinary men. Nami brightened.
"So you're really strong?" she asked, eyes wide. "Stronger than Madara? Or a little weaker?"
"We're about equal," Adrian said, thinking it through. "If forced into a straight fight, it'd be fifty-fifty. But I've got… advantages. I have things they don't. So I'm stronger in practice."
Nami's eyes gleamed. "Then you must be tired—want me to rub your shoulders? Or bring you some juice? I'll fetch—"
Adrian recoiled a little, clearly unused to such fawning. "Come on, don't overdo it. Keep doing your job—next stop: Shimotsuki Village. We've got a date with Goro Shimotsuki."
Nami immediately snapped back into professional mode, showering him with eager attention. She'd spent eight years at sea accruing coin; she'd mastered both theft and flattery. Her sudden devotion was transactional—useful, but also amusing to Adrian.
Nearby, the maid Dazsuki ground her teeth in dismay. To think Vice Admiral Garp himself had been thwarted—his grandson taken—left the entire situation messier than any of them expected. The Marines would not let it go. If word reached Headquarters, the whole Navy would explode.
But Dazsuki was powerless. Smoker's ship and men were also prisoners—if she tried to act, she could get herself and the rest killed.
Not long after, Garp's report reached Marine Headquarters and landed on Sengoku's desk.
"Sengoku, are you serious? In the East Blue? Someone matching Garp's strength?" Sengoku read, incredulous. East Blue was considered the weakest sea in the world; such claims seemed impossible.
"My grandson's been kidnapped. Do you think I'd joke about this?" Garp hissed over the Den Den Mushi. His anger was barely contained.
Sengoku listened, the weight of the situation settling in.
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