Chapter 42 — The Spoils Left Behind!
The clash between the Navy and the Roger Pirates had begun suddenly—and ended just as quickly.
After the Roger Pirates' departure, Garp and Aokiji began tending to the aftermath, gathering the wounded Marines and sending them back to the ship one by one.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni joined in as well, helping to carry the injured aboard.
It was then, amid the cleanup, that Yoriichi made a curious discovery: despite the Navy's crushing defeat, not a single sailor had died. The worst off was Bogard, beaten half to death by Oden, his entire body wrapped in bandages—but even he still clung to life.
The Roger Pirates… had actually held back!
Before long, the Marines who'd been knocked unconscious by Roger's overwhelming Conqueror's Haki began to awaken below deck and in the engine room. When they saw their comrades staggering back, battered and bloodied, their eyes widened in shock.
Without waiting for orders, several captains took charge, organizing the uninjured to tend to the wounded.
Garp stood silently on the deck, watching the organized chaos unfold. Once he saw that his men were stable, he turned and walked to the rail, leaning against it as he stared out across the sea in the direction Roger had gone, his expression clouded.
"Roger, that bastard… he's after the Poneglyphs, isn't he?"
"That's… no small matter."
Garp sighed inwardly, thoughts racing.
He recalled their earlier conversation—Roger had clearly wanted to tell him something, but Oden's sudden intervention had cut him off.
Thinking back now, Garp was certain Roger had been about to reveal something important.
Ever since the battle at God Valley years ago, the relationship between Garp and Roger had grown… complicated. On the surface, Garp still pursued him as relentlessly as ever, but how much effort he truly put into those hunts—only Garp himself knew.
Most of the time, he simply used the "Roger pursuit" as a convenient excuse to roam the seas and clear out lesser pirates along the way.
This time, his pursuit had been prompted by reports that Roger was attempting to contact Charlotte Linlin. That alone had been enough to rouse Garp's concern.
But after this encounter, Garp could sense that things were growing even more tangled.
If Roger was truly collecting the Poneglyphs… it would not go unnoticed by the World Government.
"Roger… what kind of storm are you planning to stir up this time?"
As Garp brooded over the waves, voices drifted over from the deck behind him.
"Oh! Is this a sword from the Roger Pirates?"
"Looks pretty nice!"
"The craftsmanship's amazing—wait, it almost feels like it's absorbing my Haki?"
Aokiji stood on deck, holding Ame no Habakiri, watching the cold gleam run along its blade with open admiration. He didn't recognize the weapon in his hand.
Beside him, Yoriichi held another sword, fingers resting on its hilt as a look of curiosity flickered across his face.
"The craftsmanship really is superb," Yoriichi murmured. "But this one's… strange. It's drinking in my Haki."
His own Armament Haki was being drawn out and wrapped around the blade without his intent. He could feel his strength slowly draining away—and couldn't help but be impressed.
The two swords had once been Kozuki Oden's—taken after his disarmament by Garp. For some reason, when the Roger Pirates retreated, they'd left both behind.
Hearing the commotion, Garp turned his head. When his eyes fell on the blades in Aokiji's and Yoriichi's hands, his brow lifted in surprise—then his expression hardened as he recognized one of them.
"Hey! Yoriichi—put that down, now!"
"That's a cursed blade! Don't touch it!"
Aokiji might not have known what he held, but Garp did. He'd learned plenty about the samurai aboard Roger's ship. Both of Oden's swords were among the Great Grade Blades of the 21—true masterpieces.
But the one in Yoriichi's hands, Enma, was no ordinary sword—it was a demon blade. Even in Oden's grasp, it had already begun transforming into a black blade. Given time, its rank would only grow higher still.
For anyone lacking Oden's monstrous strength, wielding Enma was courting disaster. The sword would drain its user's Haki dry, leaving them paralyzed—or worse, dead.
After all, Haki was a power that dwelled within all living beings. Some could draw it out, others could not—but when that inner force was exhausted… life itself could be extinguished.
In a flash, Garp appeared beside Yoriichi, genuine concern flashing across his face as he reached for the sword.
"Give it here, boy! That thing will kill you!"
But Yoriichi instinctively stepped aside, deftly avoiding Garp's hand. He didn't look alarmed—instead, his eyes gleamed with interest.
"A cursed blade, huh?" he said softly, running his thumb along the hilt. "Sounds powerful."
"Maybe I should give it a try."
As he spoke, Yoriichi strode toward the ship's edge, tightening his grip on Enma. In one smooth motion, he swung the blade toward the open sea.
A burst of pure Haki exploded outward from the slash, a gleaming arc of force nearly two meters long slicing through the air before it struck the distant waves.
Unlike the flying slashes he'd released before—those simple blades of compressed air—this was different. This was a true Haki slash, condensed and lethal. The range was smaller, but the power… was on an entirely different level.
Shhhaaa!
The sea split apart where the strike landed, a long, deep gouge stretching across the water's surface for dozens of meters. It took several seconds before the ocean finally rushed back in to fill the wound.
Garp, who had reached Yoriichi's side just in time to witness the strike, froze mid-motion—his hand still clamped on the young man's wrist. For a long moment, he stood there speechless, eyes fixed on the distant sea. Then, slowly, he released his grip, leaning forward to get a better look as he muttered, half in disbelief:
"A flying slash… a true flying slash!"
Snapping back to his senses, he turned sharply toward Yoriichi, his voice rising with astonishment.
"Kid—don't tell me you've already mastered the flow of Haki?!"
His tone carried both shock and disbelief. He had never taught Yoriichi such advanced techniques, nor had he demonstrated them in their training.
Garp had intended to teach Haki flow later—only once Yoriichi had refined his control and range. After all, letting one's Haki flow was a profoundly difficult art. That elusive "feeling" of channeling it through the body was something most people could spend decades chasing without success.
Talent—raw, natural talent—was everything in this world.
And yet, somehow… Yoriichi had already done it.
Effortlessly.
"'Cursed blade,' huh…?" Yoriichi looked down at Enma, tilting his head slightly. "Doesn't seem that special to me."
He turned to Garp and said lightly, "If by 'Haki flow' you mean channeling it through the body and into the weapon, then yes, I suppose I've learned it."
"I saw someone do it earlier—when they were fighting Bogard—and decided to try it myself. Works pretty well. The strength of my Haki increased a lot."
He lifted the sword again, smiling faintly. "And it even lets me strike from a distance."
As he spoke, Yoriichi calmly set Enma aside and drew his own katana, focusing his energy. Dark Haki flared along the blade, flowing seamlessly from his hands.
Garp narrowed his eyes, his Observation Haki brushing against the energy to confirm it. He nodded slightly—then suddenly paused, frowning.
"Wait," he said, a note of confusion creeping into his voice. "You saw it? You mean… literally saw the flow of Haki?"
Yoriichi nodded. "Yes. I saw it."
"And," he added after a brief pause, "I also noticed that Roger seems gravely ill. It doesn't look like he has long to live."
At that, Garp's expression changed. His hand stilled midair, and he turned sharply toward Yoriichi, eyes wide with shock.
"That's impossible… a man like him—how could he possibly—"
He stopped himself.
Because deep down, he already knew.
During their battle earlier, he'd sensed it too. Roger—though still powerful—wasn't the same as before. His strength had waned, his aura dulled just enough for Garp, of all people, to notice.
No one in the world knew Roger's power better than he did.
So when Yoriichi said it, Garp didn't doubt him. Not for a moment.
"I see…" he murmured at last, his voice low and heavy.
"So that's how it is."
(End of Chapter)
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