The sea breeze, carrying the scent of salt and dampness, swept across the port of Windmill Village as the Dog Head Warship slowly docked.
Gern stood on the deck, gazing at the tranquil little village. Red and white windmills slowly turned on the rooftops, and the sounds of fishmongers and children playing were faintly audible.
"We're here!" Garp's voice boomed like thunder as he leaped off the warship.
His Marine boots heavily hit the wooden dock, making the planks creak. "This is my hometown, Windmill Village! Gern, hurry up and come down!"
"Got it, Vice Admiral Garp." Gern followed him off the ship. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Garp grabbed his arm.
"Let's go! I'll show you something!"
"Windmill Village? Show me something? Can those two words really be combined, Vice Admiral Garp?"
"Hahaha!" Garp laughed loudly, not answering, but instead, taking advantage of Gern's inability to resist, he dragged him directly towards the village.
The Marine hero, at this moment, was like a child impatient to show off a new toy, his steps so light that he was completely different from his usual self.
"Hey, everyone!" Garp suddenly waved to a little girl with braided pigtails by the roadside. "Look who I brought back!"
The little girl timidly looked up, her gaze lingering on Gern for a moment before she quickly hid behind her mother.
Gern's mouth twitched. "Vice Admiral Garp, you've scared the child."
"Garp, this is..." By this time, many villagers familiar with Garp had gradually gathered.
"Hahaha!" Garp suddenly slapped Gern's back with such force that he stumbled.
"Heavenly Tremor Gern! The Marine rookie who cut Golden Lion in the newspaper!"
"Hehe, hello everyone." Gern managed to steady himself, his ears burning from suddenly being surrounded and stared at.
Especially since Garp's voice was astonishingly loud; half the village could hear him.
"Golden Lion?" An old fisherman carrying a fishing rod trembled. "Garp, is that the great pirate with a bounty of one billion?"
"One billion? That's old news from when you were young!" Garp put his hands on his hips and laughed, spitting saliva. "Now it's at least three billion and up!"
Saying that, he put an arm around Gern's shoulder, with so much force it almost crushed his bones.
"But this kid made him run away like a scared dog with just one slash!"
Gern: "......"
The villagers gradually gathered around, their eyes a mix of awe and curiosity.
Several half-grown children even secretly reached for the black blade eight desolations at Gern's waist, but Garp's glare scared them into pulling their hands back.
"Don't touch it!" Garp feigned seriousness. "This sword is... a cursed sword!!"
"Vice Admiral Garp is lying to you all, this is just an ordinary sword wrapped in bandages." Gern quickly cut him off, winking at the children.
Garp pouted but didn't expose him.
"Let's go! To the tavern!" Garp waved his hand and dragged Gern forward again. "Let Woop (the village chief) see what treasure I've brought back!"
The following scene left Gern dumbfounded, or rather, he saw a completely different side of Garp.
Garp acted like a human megaphone, showing off from one end of the village to the other.
Whenever he met a villager, he would rush forward, taking two steps at a time, and push Gern forward:
"Know him? 'Heavenly Quake' Gern! Half my disciple. The one who was all over the news last time!"
"Oh, Golden Lion is really something, a terrifying presence in the New World! Even I might not be able to win against him!"
"Gern! My disciple! It's Heavenly Tremor Gern, who cut Golden Lion with one slash!"
Even more outrageous, Garp would even temporarily "borrow" a bench by the roadside.
He would step on it and vividly describe the battle at G-3 Base to the children, even though he wasn't even there.
And when he got excited, he would suddenly throw a punch, scaring the onlookers into retreating repeatedly.
"At that time, Golden Lion, he came rushing over, roaring!" Garp spluttered, his fist drawing exaggerated arcs in the air.
"But our Gern, covered in injuries... but!
At that moment, all the civilians and relatives he had protected flashed through his mind, and he finally shouted something about bonds... slowly stood up, and with a backhand slash..."
"Crack!" The branch Garp was using as a prop snapped.
"Please stop! How is this different from tying me up and reading my diary?" Gern covered his face, wishing he could find a hole to crawl into.
"Vice Admiral Garp, we..." Gern tried to interrupt.
"Humility!" Garp suddenly turned, his large, fan-like hand once again heavily patted his shoulder.
"Young people need to understand humility!" Then he turned back to the villagers and winked: "This kid is just too low-key, hahaha!"
Gern: "......"
As the sun set, this "touring exhibition" finally came to an end.
Garp smacked his lips, still not satisfied, and carrying the apple pie given by the villagers, he led Gern towards his home on the hillside.
"How was it?" Garp suddenly asked. "My hometown is not bad, is it?"
Gern looked at the turning windmills in the distance and said softly, "It's very peaceful."
So peaceful that it was hard to imagine that the man who would change the world would emerge from here in the future.
"Cultured people speak differently!" Garp laughed heartily, his laughter startling the birds in the forest.
"However, East Blue is just like this! That's why I agreed to that brat Dragoon being transferred back..." His words abruptly stopped.
Gern keenly noticed that Garp's eyes dimmed for a moment.
The Marine hero, who always laughed boisterously, now showed a rare hint of fatigue.
"Vice Admiral Garp?"
"Gern, Dragoon, he..." Garp fiddled with the apple pie wrapper, his voice suddenly low. "What did he tell you?"
Halfway up the mountain, the two walked one after another, and the sea breeze suddenly grew stronger.
Gern recalled Dragoon's sharp gaze in the office and his question, "Can the Marine's justice change the world?"
"Nothing." Gern smiled. "We just caught up."
Garp stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed and cursed, "That kid is just a disappointment!" His tone was light, but his gaze drifted towards the distant sea.
Gern did not respond.
The two walked silently on the mountain path, their shadows stretched long by the setting sun.
How could Garp not know? The unusual reports from the East Blue branch.
For example, Dragoon's frequent "outings for inspection," or the sudden appearance of "mysterious aid" in certain countries...
The Marine hero simply chose to feign ignorance.
Because he believed, he indulged. Because he hoped, he remained silent.
"We're here!" Garp suddenly quickened his pace, pushing open the wooden door of the small house on the hillside. "You're sleeping here tonight! Tomorrow I'll take you to see Dadan..."
"No thanks!" Gern shuddered. "I suddenly remembered I have to go to the South Sea."
Garp froze, then laughed so hard he bent over backward: "You rascal! Dadan is such a good girl!"
"Do you have some misunderstanding about the definition of 'good girl'?
And Vice Admiral Garp, you're already forty, Dadan, who is around your age, shouldn't be associated with the words 'girl' at all!!"
"Uh... you caught me, kid!"
...
At night, when all was quiet, Gern lay back on the wooden bed, black blade eight desolations resting by his pillow.
Garp's thunderous snores came from outside the window, occasionally mixed with dream talk like "Dragoon, you brat."
He thought of the villagers' awestruck gazes during the day, of Garp's beaming expression as he boasted, and even more, of Garp knowing deep down about his own son...
"Justice, huh..." Gern gently stroked the sword hilt, the purplish-black patterns faintly visible in the Moonlight.
"Vice Admiral Garp, you spent your life navigating within the system, yet you protected all your relatives (Revolutionary Army + pirates) who 'overthrew the system'.
You, who seem so carefree, the justice you've upheld your entire life has been 'wavering'!"
"Wavering justice" does not mean Garp's stance was unstable.
Rather, his belief swung wildly between "systemic responsibility" and "human nature's true heart."
For his son, Monkey D. Dragoon, he indulged the revolutionary fire.
For Ace: He couldn't bring himself to deliver a decisive blow, yet he sat below the execution platform, "guarding" it, fulfilling his Marine duty.
For Luffy: He tacitly approved his dream-seeking path, yet he repeatedly boasted to Sengoku that he would capture Luffy.
