I remained silent for a long time, gathering enough patience to last me the next thousand years.
Calmly, almost mechanically, I cleaned the pipe, emptied the remaining tobacco, packed it again and lit it. I had a feeling I wouldn't get through this conversation without it.
I crossed one leg over the other and leaned comfortably back in the armchair, first glancing around to make sure the children were nowhere nearby. The last thing I needed was for them to overhear this.
Garp's news worried me deeply.
Shiki had always been my enemy.
And he had always preferred to destroy what I loved most before going after me.
The old Marine clearly knew that too.
"So," I said at last, my voice tight with restraint, "you're going to tell me exactly what happened. Then I'll decide what to do."
"He cut off his legs," Garp replied shortly. "They were shackled together. After that, the rest was easy. His ship was already waiting for him. Magellan could only watch."
I stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.
The Vice Admiral looked even more shaken than I felt.
We both knew exactly what kind of monster the Golden Lion was.
Garp was worried.
He had brought Luffy here because he could no longer protect the child alone.
But could I?
The seven-year-old had become the new bearer of the straw hat.
Was that some kind of sign?
"I always thought," I began slowly, scratching my cheek, "that the Navy was just a confused collection of shady bureaucrats."
I took another long drag from the pipe.
"Don't get me wrong. There are a few among you that I respect. I even believed some of you were reliable, despite our past... disagreements."
I inhaled again, buying myself a few more seconds of calm—as if Shiki's escape were somehow Garp's personal failure.
"But today," I continued, my voice rising, "you've proven something else entirely."
I suddenly shot up from the chair and threw the pipe away.
"To hell with your strength! To hell with your organization! To hell with your soldiers! THE GOLDEN LION?!"
I began pacing across the meadow in furious strides.
"How?! How the hell did he cut off his own legs?! Didn't it occur to you idiots that you'd locked up the most dangerous madman in the world?! What kind of grave is your admiral digging for himself?!"
My curses would probably haunt the Navy for four generations.
The truth was I couldn't imagine anyone catching Shiki again.
Roger was gone.
And without Roger…
In my mind there was simply no one left who could stop him.
Back then a storm had destroyed his fleet and forced him onto land, nearly killing him—but that had only happened because he had declared war on us and we had met him at Edd.
What was I supposed to do now?
Shiki was vindictive.
And revenge was written into his very nature.
He would never forget who had defeated him.
And I had no doubt he would come for me.
"He's going to attack my islands, that son of a bitch," I muttered, adding several colorful curses. "I need to talk to Ray… he'll know what to do."
Meanwhile Garp finished the rest of the vodka and sat quietly, thinking.
"You could try to find out where he is now," he said eventually, watching me from his chair.
I snorted.
For some reason that amused him, and he burst out laughing.
That was too much.
I lunged at him with my fists, fully intending to beat the jelly out of the thing he called a brain.
"You're laughing?!" I shouted. "Do you realize what this means? This is a disaster! Do you have any idea," I continued, managing to smack him on the head once, "that Shiki swore he would become king? He probably knows where Raftel is! And the Poneglyphs! You complete idiot!"
I was just preparing to continue when his Den Den Mushi suddenly rang.
"Answer it!"
"Go ahead, Admiral…"
"You unbelievable moron!" I shouted, snatching the receiver. "So what now? If that bastard steals anything from me, I'll kill Magellan for letting him escape—and since the Navy loves its brotherhood so much, I'll send all of you to hell with him!"
"G-Garp?!" came a shocked voice from the other side.
"I'm leaving," I said coldly, handing the receiver back. "And when I return, you'd better have a solution."
Then I walked away to find the children.
I marched through the forest, snapping twigs under my boots and imagining that they were Shiki's neck breaking beneath my foot.
Fourteen years earlier, when the Golden Lion had finally been arrested, he had shouted so loudly that everyone heard him.
"I'll never forget this, you cowards from the East!"
As if it had been our fault that the idiot had sailed straight into a storm.
If he'd had a competent navigator, he'd still have his legs—and a few more years of freedom.
Still.
This entire matter needed to be discussed calmly.
Because when people act in panic, nothing good ever comes of it.
"…I'm telling you! I'll gather the strongest crew, find the greatest treasures, and become the King of the Pirates!"
The voice reached me from the clearing.
At first I almost waved it off, ready to mutter something like Yes, Roger, we've heard that a thousand times—put the bottle down already.
But I stopped mid-step.
Those words hadn't belonged to my brother.
I stepped into the clearing by the stream where the holy trinity was playing.
The tension between Ace and Luffy was obvious.
Only Sabo stood between them, trying to keep the peace—as usual.
The situation looked like this:
Luffy was soaked from head to toe, clutching his straw hat as if it protected him from the entire world.
Ace was trembling with rage, his breathing shallow, fists clenched so tightly that the fight was only seconds away.
"What a load of crap!" Ace shouted at last, ignoring Sabo completely. "An idiot like you will never become a pirate!"
"But you were seven once too! And I'll be ten someday!" Luffy shot back stubbornly.
I gave him a silent point for that one and stayed where I was, listening.
"And when I grow up you'll see! I'll be the strongest of them all!" he continued. "Even if my grandpa says I should be a Marine! I don't want that! I want to be a pirate—like Shanks!"
That was the moment Ace finally lost his patience.
He was about to teach Luffy a very unpleasant lesson about insulting grandfathers—or bragging.
I wasn't entirely sure which.
But I stepped in first.
"So," I said calmly, "you know Shanks, do you, little one?"