A salty sea breeze swept across the harbor of Foosha Village as the dog-headed warship slowly pulled in.
Gern Reginald Sigmar stood on the deck, gazing at the tranquil village before him. Red-and-white windmills turned lazily atop rooftops, while the calls of fishmongers and the laughter of children drifted faintly through the air.
"We're here!"Garp's voice boomed like thunder as he leapt off the ship in a single bound.
His boots slammed heavily onto the wooden pier, making the planks creak beneath the impact."This is my hometown—Foosha Village! Come on, Gern, hurry up!"
"I know, I know, Vice Admiral Garp," Gern replied as he jumped down after him—only to be immediately seized by the arm.
"Come on! I'll show you around!"
"Foosha Village… seeing the world?" Gern muttered. "Are those two words really compatible, Vice Admiral?"
"Hahahaha!" Garp burst out laughing, offering no answer as he dragged Gern toward the village.
At that moment, the great hero of the Marines looked nothing like a legend of the seas—more like an overexcited child eager to show off his favorite toy.
"Hey, you lot!" Garp suddenly waved at a little girl with braided hair by the roadside. "Look who I brought back!"
The girl froze, staring at Gern for a moment before quickly hiding behind her mother.
Gern twitched. "Vice Admiral… you scared her."
"Garp, this is…?"A few villagers who recognized him began to gather around.
"Hahaha!" Garp slapped Gern hard on the back, nearly knocking him over."This is Earth-Shaking Gern! The Marine prodigy who slashed Golden Lion in half!"
"H-Hey—!" Gern barely managed to stay upright.
"The one who cut Golden Lion?" an elderly fisherman gasped, his fishing rod trembling."That pirate with the billion-berry bounty?!"
"A billion? That's ancient history!" Garp barked proudly."He's worth at least three billion now!"
He wrapped an arm around Gern's shoulders, nearly crushing him."And this brat sent him running with a single slash!"
"..."
Villagers gathered closer, eyes filled with awe and curiosity.
A few half-grown kids even tried sneaking a touch of the black blade at Gern's waist—only to freeze when Garp shot them a glare.
"Don't touch it!" Garp barked dramatically. "That sword is… cursed!"
"That's not true!" Gern immediately cut in. "It's just a normal sword wrapped in bandages."He winked at the children.
Garp clicked his tongue but didn't argue.
"Come on! To the tavern!" Garp declared, grabbing Gern again."Let Woop Slap see what treasure I brought back!"
What followed left Gern utterly dumbfounded.
Garp transformed into a walking loudspeaker, strutting from one end of the village to the other.
Every time he saw someone, he shoved Gern forward dramatically:
"Know this kid? 'Earth-Shaking' Gern! My half-disciple! The one all the newspapers were screaming about!"
"Golden Lion was terrifying, you know! A monster of the New World! Even I might lose to him!"
"And this boy—my disciple—cut him down with one slash!"
It got worse.
At one point, Garp even commandeered a bench, standing atop it like a street performer to reenact the battle—despite never having been there himself.
"When that Golden Lion charged in, roaring like a beast—!"Garp flailed his arms wildly, nearly knocking people over."Gern here was covered in blood! But then—he thought of all the people he protected, the bonds he carried in his heart—ROARED—stood up—and SLASHED!"
Crack!
The stick Garp was using as a prop snapped in half.
"Please stop…" Gern buried his face in his hands."This is no different from tying me up and reading my diary aloud."
"Modesty!" Garp boomed, slapping Gern's shoulder again."Young people need to be modest!"
Then he turned to the villagers with a grin."He's just shy, that's all!"
Gern: "..."
By sunset, the "tour" finally came to an end.
Garp, thoroughly satisfied, carried a pie gifted by the villagers as he led Gern toward the small house on the hillside.
"So?" Garp asked suddenly. "Not bad, right? My hometown."
Gern looked toward the windmills spinning lazily in the distance."It's peaceful."
So peaceful it was hard to imagine that this place would one day give birth to someone who would shake the entire world.
"Hahaha! That's what folks with culture say!" Garp laughed loudly, startling birds from the trees."That's why I let that brat Dragon come back here—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Gern noticed it immediately.
For just a moment, the light in Garp's eyes dimmed.
"Vice Admiral?" Gern asked softly.
"Gern…" Garp said quietly, fingers rubbing the wrapper of the pie."What did Dragon say to you?"
The wind grew stronger as they climbed the hill.
Gern recalled Dragon's piercing gaze—and that question:
Can the Marines' justice truly change the world?
"Nothing much," Gern said with a small smile. "We just talked."
Garp studied him for several seconds before scoffing lightly."That idiot… always like that."Yet his eyes drifted toward the distant sea.
Gern said nothing.
They walked on in silence, their shadows stretching long behind them.
Of course Garp knew.
About the strange reports from the East Blue.About Dragon's frequent "inspections."About mysterious aid appearing where it shouldn't.
But he chose to pretend not to see.
Because he believed.Because he hoped.And because he didn't want to crush what little freedom his son still had.
"We're here!" Garp suddenly shouted, pushing open the door of the small hillside house."You'll sleep here tonight! Tomorrow I'll take you to meet Dadan—"
"Nope!" Gern jumped back instantly."I just remembered—I still need to head to the South Blue!"
Garp froze, then burst into laughter."You brat! Dadan's a fine woman!"
"Vice Admiral… I think your definition of 'fine woman' might be slightly flawed.Also, she's about your age—calling her a 'girl' feels illegal."
"…Tch. Caught me."
That night, long after everything grew quiet, Gern lay on the wooden bed, Black Blade Bahuang resting beside his pillow.
Outside, Garp's thunderous snores echoed through the house, occasionally punctuated by sleep-talking.
"Dragon… you damn brat…"
Gern stared at the ceiling.
He remembered the villagers' reverent gazes.Garp's prideful laughter.And the way that legendary Marine—who clearly understood everything—chose to say nothing.
"Justice…" Gern murmured, fingers brushing the hilt of his blade as faint violet-black patterns shimmered beneath the moonlight.
"Vice Admiral Garp… your entire life has been spent walking within the system—yet protecting those who defy it."
A justice that wavered.
Not because of weakness—but because it stood between duty and humanity.
To Dragon: tolerance toward revolution.To Ace: a clenched fist that could never fall, even as he stood beneath the execution platform.To Luffy: silent permission to chase freedom, even while declaring he would capture him one day.
A justice that swayed…but never broke.