East Blue, Foosha Village
Inside the bar, Makino stood behind the counter, gently wiping a wine glass. Her noticeably swollen belly made her movements slower than usual.
Sitting across from her was Vice Admiral Garp, dressed in a loud floral shirt and loose beach shorts.
At this moment, he looked nothing like the legendary Marine hero.
One leg crossed over the other, a flip-flop dangling lazily from his foot, Garp held a small wooden barrel of wine in one hand and grumbled:
"Makino, pour me another drink."
Makino smiled softly and reached for the bottle, but Garp suddenly glanced at her stomach and waved dismissively.
"Forget it, I'll do it myself."
Without waiting for a response, he stood up and casually walked behind the counter, pulling out a bottle of wine from the cabinet as if he owned the place.
Makino did not stop him. Instead, she simply said in a gentle voice:
"Old Man Garp, you should drink a little less."
Garp snorted and waved his hand carelessly.
"What's wrong, Makino? You think I'm old?"
Makino silently looked at the gray streaks in his hair and the rough stubble covering his face.
Her expression practically screamed the answer.
Garp merely chuckled helplessly, unfazed by her reaction. Returning to his seat, he poured himself another drink.
This time, however, he did not drink immediately.
Instead, he stared quietly into the wine barrel in front of him, loneliness slowly creeping into his expression.
It was his vacation period, and like every year, he had returned to his hometown, Foosha Village.
But this visit felt different.
Home no longer felt like home.
His son, Dragon, was dead.
His grandson, Luffy, was still missing.
Even though he rarely saw them before, he always knew they were somewhere out there, alive.
Now, everything had changed.
Thinking about Dragon and Luffy, Garp let out a heavy sigh.
Maybe I shouldn't come back anymore.
Maybe it's better to retire at Marine Headquarters with Sengoku and the others.
Makino noticed the gloom in his eyes and understood the reason almost immediately.
The people of Foosha Village all knew about Garp's losses.
Still, nobody dared bring it up.
Some wounds were better left untouched.
Garp lifted the barrel and emptied the wine in one gulp.
Then he looked at Makino and forced out a bitter laugh.
"Makino, when your child is born, make sure you raise him properly."
He scratched his head and laughed dryly.
"Don't end up like me. My son became a criminal, my grandson too. Hahaha... what a complete failure of a life."
A strange look flashed across Makino's face.
Her hand instinctively moved to her belly.
Only she knew that the father of this child was currently one of the last great pirates still standing in the world.
According to the laws of the World Government, this child had already been labeled a criminal before even being born.
Garp noticed the unusual expression and frowned.
"What's wrong?"
Makino quickly shook her head and forced a smile.
"Nothing. I was just thinking... with how strong the Marines have become these past few years, fewer people will probably want to become pirates anymore."
Garp nodded in agreement.
"That's because he's the Fleet Admiral now."
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"Just wait and see. This so-called Great Pirate Era won't last much longer. From the Pirate King's era to the Yonko, it'll all come crashing down."
He took another sip of wine before continuing.
"I'm just wondering when Lloyd plans to wipe out the Red Hair Pirates."
At the mention of the Red Hair Pirates, Makino's hand trembled violently.
Crash!
The wine glass slipped from her fingers and shattered against the floor.
Garp immediately snapped out of his thoughts and stood up.
"Makino! Are you alright? Did the glass cut you?"
Makino hurriedly turned away, hiding the panic spreading across her face.
"I'm fine."
After a brief pause, she quietly asked:
"Old Man Garp... is the Navy really planning to move against the Red Hair Pirates?"
"Will Saint Lloyd personally lead the operation again?"
Garp answered without hesitation.
"Of course."
"When has he ever sat something like this out?"
He scratched his chin.
"Sakazuki and the others will definitely join too. By then, it'll probably just be me and Sengoku left guarding Marine Headquarters."
Makino's fingers tightened slightly.
"That lineup sounds... overwhelming."
"The Red Hair Pirates wouldn't stand a chance."
"Stand a chance?"
Garp snorted.
"They'd have no chance at all."
"The difference in strength is absurd."
He leaned back and laughed.
"To be honest, I think Lloyd alone could destroy the entire Red Hair Pirates crew."
"With how terrifying he's become, even I probably couldn't last more than a few exchanges against him."
"That brat is an absolute monster."
Garp continued speaking casually, completely unaware of Makino's increasingly pale expression.
She bit her lip and quietly asked:
"So... does that mean Shanks has no path left except death?"
Garp sighed.
"Unless he disbands his crew and lives quietly like Silvers Rayleigh, hiding on some random island, then yeah."
"Otherwise, all that's waiting for him is death."
Makino lowered her eyes.
"But someone like Shanks... he'd never abandon his crew."
The more Garp listened, the stranger this conversation felt.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Makino."
"You have some kind of connection to Shanks, don't you?"
Makino lowered her head.
After a moment of silence, she replied softly:
"You could say that."
"He used to come to my bar."
"He was kind."
"He didn't feel like a bad person."
Garp studied her expression carefully.
Something about this felt suspicious.
Still, seeing the troubled look on her face, he chose not to press further.
"Compared to Whitebeard and the others, Red Hair Shanks is definitely the gentlest of the Yonko."
"But..."
Bang!
Before he could finish, the tavern door slammed open violently.
A villager rushed inside, panting heavily.
"Bad news, Old Man Garp!"
"There's a fight happening at the village entrance!"
Garp's expression sharpened instantly.
"A fight?"
"Where are the Marines stationed here?"
The villager wiped sweat from his forehead, panic visible across his face.
"We don't know who they are!"
"They're monsters!"
"The Marines can't stop them at all!"
Without wasting another second, Garp stood up and strode toward the exit.
"Show me the way."
---
At the entrance of Foosha Village, the Marines led by Bogard stood in tense formation, weapons drawn.
Opposite them stood a group of cloaked figures.
Moments earlier, Bogard and several Marines from Headquarters had encountered this suspicious group attempting to enter the village.
Out of instinct, Bogard stepped forward and demanded identification.
The strangers refused.
Sensing danger, Bogard ordered a forced inspection.
That was when everything exploded.
Several Marines had been knocked down almost instantly.
The battle erupted without warning.
What shocked Bogard most was the overwhelming strength of the intruders.
Forget the local Marine branch, even the elite Headquarters Marines stood no chance.
In just a single clash, they suffered severe losses.
A drop of sweat slid down Bogard's forehead as he tightened his grip on his weapon.
He stared at the cloaked figures and spoke in a cold voice.
"Who exactly are you people?"
The figure leading the group stepped forward.
He was shorter than expected, his posture slightly hunched beneath the cloak.
Then, in a low voice, he said:
"Uncle Lindbergh."
"Handle this."
"Finish it quickly."