Chapter 20 — Garp's Life
Dragon froze for a moment, then was instantly overjoyed.
A favor?
Now that was something he could get excited about.
If Mr. Madara was asking him for help, then there were only a few possibilities. And the biggest one was obvious—
He was definitely preparing to beat up his old man.
As a truly filial son, Dragon displayed remarkable natural talent when it came to screwing over his father. He immediately nodded.
"No problem, Master. Just say the word—what do you need me to do?"
Madara found Dragon's attitude quite pleasing.
To be fair, this kid was genuinely outstanding when it came to filial "piety." He might actually be even more suited than Gion for that crooked version of the Will of Fire.
"Take me to your house. I left something at Garp's place."
"Leave it to me!"
Dragon's face lit up with joy as he shouted, while inwardly thinking:
So that's how it is. Using 'I forgot something' as an excuse to get into my house, then lying in wait to ambush my old man! And during the fight, he'll destroy everything my old man likes, delivering a double blow both mentally and physically! Killing the man and breaking his spirit? As expected of Mr. Madara!!!
At that thought, Dragon decided he couldn't just stand around and watch.
If someone was going to beat up his dad, then of course he had to help out and show his value!
And secondly, if he handled this well, then Mr. Madara might finally accept him as a disciple!
That way, next time he resisted his old man, he'd have someone backing him up!
This feeling…?!
That's right!
This is revolution!!!
Thinking this, Dragon wiped the playful grin off his face and marched proudly toward home wearing the exact same expression Madara always did.
........
Bang!
Dragon kicked open the front door and strode inside with his chest puffed out.
Madara, seeing Dragon in this state, found him difficult to read. He had the distinct feeling that Dragon was radiating the aura of someone basking in borrowed power.
Still, Madara couldn't be bothered to think too deeply about it. He walked in and sat down on the sofa without ceremony.
Seeing this, Dragon hurried over and poured him a cup of hot tea.
"Master, just wait here! Leave those little matters to me!"
Dragon thumped his chest loudly, set down the teapot, then turned and headed upstairs, going straight for Garp's room.
Madara felt more and more that he couldn't see through Dragon.
From beginning to end, he had never stated his intent outright, yet Dragon had somehow guessed his goal directly.
It seemed he really needed to take another look at Garp's rogue of a son.
About ten minutes later, Dragon came downstairs carrying a standard-issued backpack.
This made Madara think even more highly of him—he had actually guessed what Madara wanted.
With a mysterious air, Dragon placed the backpack into Uchiha Madara's hands and gave him a look.
"Here, Master. Take it. Everything my old man has is in here. He should be home soon, so it'll be convenient for your next step."
Madara was somewhat surprised.
How does he know what I'm thinking?
Still, he didn't refuse.
This saved him from having to ask later. That old miser Garp was very stingy with his belongings—getting this backpack out of him would have been troublesome.
Waiting was always boring, so Madara began looking around Garp's kitchen.
It felt much bigger than the kitchen in his own house. If he could cook in a place like this, his performance would probably be even better.
Seeing that Madara still hadn't spoken, Dragon wore an understanding expression and pointed toward the kitchen.
"I'll hide in there in a moment. Then, once the cup hits the floor, we'll move together and take down my old man in one blow!"
Madara's mind became a sea of question marks.
He had no idea what Dragon was talking about, but his face remained expressionless as always.
Dragon took that as silent agreement. He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a mop, and hid himself in position.
A while later, loud laughter rang out from outside the house.
"Hahahahahaha! Dragon, are you back? Stop staying indoors and come out to spar with this old man! Today I told a full thirty people about Madara's embarrassing story! I can already picture that sour face of his, hahahahahaha!"
When no one answered from inside, Garp felt a little strange.
Dragon was rebellious, yes, but he usually wouldn't ignore him outright.
Without thinking too much about it, he walked into the house.
The moment he entered, the first thing he saw was Uchiha Madara, face dark as night, still wearing a bloodstained apron, sitting on the sofa and staring at him coldly.
"Cough, cough, cough—Madara?! Why are you here?! No, wait, what I just said was a joke! I wasn't spreading rumors about you!"
Garp's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
Why was Madara in his house?
He hurriedly tried to explain away what he'd just said.
This was his house.
If Madara went mad here, then his home would probably be reduced to ruins.
But the situation went beyond Garp's expectations.
Madara didn't attack immediately. Instead, he silently stood up, picked up the backpack, and prepared to leave.
As he passed by Garp, Garp was so tense that he instinctively assumed a defensive stance.
By accident, Garp's leg knocked into the table—
And just like that, Madara's teacup fell to the floor with the sound of shattering glass.
"Master, your disciple is here to aid you! Die, old man!!!"
A black shadow burst out of the kitchen holding a mop.
Smack!
The mop came down squarely on Garp's head. The handle snapped on impact, while the mop head itself remained stuck on top of Garp's head.
The atmosphere froze instantly.
Uchiha Madara, so surprised he was almost about to show an expression.
Garp, whose face was gradually turning darker and darker.
The two stood there like statues.
Dragon also sensed that something was very, very wrong. Looking up at the two of them, a thought slowly formed in his mind.
I'm dead.
After about a minute, Uchiha Madara was the first to recover.
He gave Garp a small nod, then walked out of Garp's house carrying the backpack.
Dragon, meanwhile, had a face like wilted vegetables as he said to Garp:
"Old man… if I say this was all a misunderstanding, will you listen to my explanation?"
From the room behind him came Garp's furious roar:
"You damned pirate!!! Eat this old man's fist!!!"
Though Uchiha Madara's face remained expressionless, the satisfaction in his heart was almost beyond words.
You old fossil who runs around ruining other people's lives—so you have days like this too?
Carrying the backpack, Madara walked briskly back home.
If not for maintaining his cold and lofty image, he probably would have started humming on the way.
When he got home, he handed the backpack to Gion, then dove straight back into the kitchen once more.
Gion, however, found it strange.
Master still wore the same poker face as usual, but why did it feel like he was somehow smiling?
She casually opened the backpack in her hands—
And froze for a moment.
It was as if she saw golden light pouring out of it.
"Wow! What are all these?! They're so dazzling!!!"
"Pastries from the Imperial Hall? Limited-edition donuts from Ajie Dessert Shop?! Those are super hard to get! And this—this can't be the special premium senbei that was custom-made by the Imperial Kitchen to celebrate Fleet Admiral Sengoku's inauguration a while back, right?!"
As Gion read off item after item, drool practically started flowing.
These were treasures!
Many of them were the kind that money alone couldn't buy!
She bounced straight into the kitchen and rammed herself headfirst into Madara's arms.
"Master, you're the best ever!"
Madara wiped his hands on his apron, inwardly puzzled, but still placed a hand on top of Gion's head.
"What is it?"
Gion looked up at Uchiha Madara, and the admiration overflowing in her big eyes was so intense it was practically spilling out.
Madara found it extremely pleasing.
"The snacks you brought back—they're all the super rare kind! The kind that are hard to buy even if you have money! Did you flatten Vice Admiral Garp's whole house to find this many high-end snacks?"
Madara was momentarily stunned.
Then, as though he had suddenly realized something, he patted Gion's head again and said to her:
"Then hurry and go eat them. Consider it a celebration before school starts. Don't leave a single bit behind. Can you do that?"
Gion puffed out her little chest and declared:
"Absolutely no problem!"
Watching Gion run off, Madara clenched his fist tightly, feeling a rush of delight in his heart.
That's right! Exactly right! I bet someone's going to have a sleepless night tonight. I know who it is—but I'm not saying!
That very night, in the stillness of the dark, a miserable scream rang out—one so tragic it could bring tears to the eyes of anyone who heard it.
"WHERE ARE MY THINGS!!! WHERE'S MY STUFF!!!"
Dragon had just finished getting beaten up and was now sitting there with a bruised and swollen face, reviewing all the flaws in his actions today while consoling himself inwardly:
Revolution, after all, can't possibly go smoothly every step of the way. This is merely a small sacrifice for the sake of the great revolutionary cause!
Just as he was thinking that—
Bang!
With a thunderous crash, Garp burst straight through the door.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he was breathing heavily like an enraged gorilla charging in.
The moment Dragon saw the furious Garp, he seemed to realize something. He had just opened his mouth to explain—
When an enormous fist-shadow filled his pupils...