Karl walked straight toward the lounge without the slightest hesitation.
There was no way he was sparring with Garp—no matter what.
He could bully others, sure.
But being bullied himself? Absolutely not.
Garp stood there watching Karl leave, completely dumbfounded. He scratched his head in confusion.
What's with this kid?
This isn't how I imagined it going…
Back then, Kuzan had been more than happy to spar with him—even if he never won once.
But Karl? He didn't even hesitate. He simply avoided the fight altogether.
That's new, Garp thought, amused.
"Uh… Vice Admiral Garp," Ain said cautiously,
"if you want, I could spar with you instead?"
Garp glanced at her and shook his head.
"Forget it. If I fought you, that brat would definitely feel sorry for you."
"Hehehe."
A blush immediately spread across Ain's face as she turned her head away in embarrassment.
Garp smiled with the indulgent grin of an old auntie, memories surfacing in his mind—of Tsuru, long ago.
"That's nice… really nice," Garp said warmly.
"Karl and you—yeah, you're a good match. Do your best, little Ain."
He winked at her, stomped his foot, and vanished on the spot, leaving behind a massive footprint on the deck.
"Nelson!" Ain called out.
"Hurry and get someone to fix this!"
"Got it!"
Lounge
Karl held a piece of deerskin in his hand, gently wiping the blood and dust from Shusui's blade.
Then he dipped a bit of cotton gauze into sword oil and evenly applied it along the blade.
Gradually, under Karl's careful polishing, Shusui's black–purple surface became increasingly lustrous—smooth and reflective like a mirror.
This was Karl's newly discovered way of slacking off.
He called it: premium sword maintenance.
He had three swords in total. By the time he finished maintaining all of them, half a day would be gone.
The rest of the day could be spent reading newspapers, drinking tea, or casually developing his abilities.
Just like that—another day successfully wasted.
Thunk.
Karl placed Shusui flat on the table. A strand of hair drifted down onto the blade and was instantly sliced clean in two.
"Not bad," Karl muttered.
"Next up… Raven."
Bang!
The lounge door was rudely shoved open as Smoker burst in, his face full of excitement.
"Karl! I've picked out the most suspicious ones. Want to take a look?"
Karl nodded and accepted the documents.
The very first name made him pause.
Marine Base 16 — Captain Nezumi (Rat Captain).
Karl instantly felt a sense of familiarity.
"This guy…"
A thoroughly corrupt Marine. A shameless scumbag who colluded with Arlong's crew, abused civilians, and committed countless despicable acts under the Marine banner.
Before Karl could finish, Smoker eagerly cut in:
"This bastard is the base commander of the 16th Branch. His annual report was too perfect—so perfect it felt fake!"
"Oh?"
Karl smiled slightly.
Sharp eyes, he thought. Smoker had noticed it too.
"And just look at him," Smoker continued indignantly.
"He looks sleazy as hell. I don't know why, but I just feel he's crooked."
Karl nodded.
"Good instinct. He'll be our first target. Anyone else?"
"Nelson Roy," Smoker said.
"Commander of the 8th Branch. Honestly, his report looks normal… but that guy is way too fat."
"Does a branch commander's salary really allow him to get that fat?"
Karl glanced at Nelson Roy's photo and nodded in agreement.
The man looked like a pig—investigating him definitely wouldn't hurt.
"Anyone else?"
Smoker shook his head.
"Not for now. The others didn't raise any major red flags."
"Well done," Karl said approvingly.
"Alright—our main focus will be Rat Captain and Nelson Roy. Then we'll randomly select five more branch commanders for inspection."
Smoker rubbed his hands together excitedly, clearly itching to get started.
Soon, the lounge was left with Karl alone once more, enjoying his peaceful slacking time.
Bang!
The door was suddenly kicked open.
A tall, burly figure strode in without a hint of restraint.
"You sure know how to enjoy yourself, brat. Tsk tsk tsk."
It was Garp.
He made himself completely at home—glancing around before casually yanking open a nearby cabinet.
Inside were stacks upon stacks of snacks: Happy Chips, senbei, and all kinds of junk food.
"Rip—"
Karl opened his mouth and poured an entire bag of Happy Chips straight in, chewing loudly.
"Mmm—so good! This old man loves this stuff!"
A seasoned offender, clearly.
No wonder Sengoku guarded against Garp like he was a thief.
"Heh, Vice Admiral Garp," Karl said casually,
"if you like them, take as many as you want. I've got plenty."
Garp nodded, swallowed the chips, then looked at Shusui on the table.
"Huh? That sword looks pretty good. A black blade, even. Where'd you get it?"
"This? Shusui. Moria gave it to me."
Garp nodded—then suddenly snapped his head up.
"Moria? That fat guy who became one of the Seven Warlords?"
"Yep. That's him."
Garp scratched his head, baffled but impressed.
"I remember Zephyr saying you don't even use swords. Why do you have three of them?"
Karl replied calmly,
"Because killing pirates with a blade is faster."
Garp scoffed.
"What's the point of fast? Real men fight up close—fists against flesh!"
True enough.
Karl just preferred using that method on women.
"Vice Admiral Garp, don't you have something to—"
Karl stopped mid-sentence.
Garp was already snoring.
A massive snot bubble inflated and deflated with each breath.
Karl was filled with reverence.
This is it.
The unrivaled grandmaster of slacking.
Sleeping anytime, anywhere.
Aokiji still needed an eye mask to sleep.
Look at Garp—he could fall asleep mid-conversation.
Clearly, Karl still had much to learn from his seniors when it came to slacking.
Shaking his head helplessly, Karl thought that if he stabbed Garp right now, the old man probably wouldn't even react—he was that deeply asleep.
No wonder Axe-Hand Morgan became famous later.
Wasn't it precisely because he attacked Garp while he was sleeping?
Thinking of Morgan reminded Karl of something.
That guy was corrupt too, wasn't he?
Abusing authority, oppressing civilians, and even building a statue of himself—
No… wait.
At this point in time, Morgan should still be an ordinary Marine—a hot-blooded rookie full of justice.
With that thought, Karl pulled out a stack of bounty posters from a drawer and flipped through them.
Captain Kuro, Black Cat Pirates — 9,000,000 Berries
Arlong, Arlong Pirates — 20,000,000 Berries
Don Krieg, Krieg Pirates — 15,000,000 Berries
Karl shook his head.
A bunch of small fry.
In the North Blue, these bounties would barely qualify as rookie-level pirates.
Yet in the East Blue, they could dominate entire seas.
And all of this—
Was thanks to the man snoring right in front of him.
If not for Garp constantly sailing around on a max-level account, wiping out newbie zones every day…
The East Blue wouldn't have become the Weakest Sea.
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