Several days later, after finally finishing the remaining administrative aftermath of the World Military Draft—including Fujitora's formal onboarding procedures, Green Bull's rather blunt "reassignment" paperwork, and the final coordination with Kizaru regarding the scientific forces—Gern Reginald Sigmar at last managed to free up some time.
Without delay, he headed toward the recruit training classrooms to find Garp.
The legendary Marine hero was currently standing before a group of fresh-faced yet spirited new recruits. He wore a somewhat casual floral shirt, looking completely out of place for a Marine officer of his stature.
And as usual, he was enthusiastically lecturing them—spraying spit and nonsense in equal measure.
"So listen up, you brats! Remember this old man's words!" Garp stood with his hands on his hips, his booming voice filling the room. "If you run into an enemy you can't beat, don't be stupid and charge in headfirst!"
"Protect your life first! Preserve the spark of hope! That's what matters most!"
"As for us old geezers with one foot already in the grave… when it's time to step aside, we step aside without hesitation!"
"The future of the seas belongs to you!"
He was doing his best to instill a practical—if somewhat cynical—philosophy into the Marines' newest blood:
Preserve hope. If necessary, the old generation should be the ones sacrificed.
Just then, the classroom door was pushed open.
A hand casually lifted it aside, and Gern's tall figure appeared at the entrance.
He had arrived just in time to hear Garp's final words.
A playful smile curved across his lips as he stepped inside, speaking in a voice that wasn't particularly loud—but somehow carried effortlessly through the room.
"Oh? So the old fossils of the previous era are that pitiful in your eyes, huh? Tossed aside whenever it's convenient?"
Gern sighed theatrically, shaking his head as his gaze swept across the recruits—who were already visibly trembling with excitement.
"Going by that logic, I suppose someone like me—another leftover relic from the 'old era'—will eventually be abandoned by the blazing flames of your so-called new generation too?"
"Admiral Gern!!"
"Lord White Qilin!!"
"He actually came here?!"
Gern's sudden appearance was like pouring cold water into a boiling pot of oil.
The entire classroom exploded.
Every single recruit shot to their feet in excitement, their eyes blazing as they stared at the man standing there in his Justice coat—the living embodiment of the Marines' current peak of power and authority.
Any semblance of classroom discipline instantly vanished.
To them, Gern was a living legend.
The ultimate goal they dreamed of reaching.
Garp, who had spent considerable effort building up the mood of the lecture, watched it crumble completely in the wake of Gern's single sentence.
Worse still, the bastard had barely arrived before immediately undermining his authority.
His mustache bristled as he glared furiously.
"QUIET, ALL OF YOU!!!"
Garp's thunderous roar crashed through the classroom like a bolt of lightning. His overwhelming presence instantly suppressed the restless recruits, leaving them frozen stiff in their seats.
Even so, their eyes kept sneaking glances toward Gern.
Garp shot Gern a dirty look, clearly annoyed. But he couldn't be bothered to argue in front of the recruits.
Instead, he strode forward, grabbed Gern by the arm, and growled gruffly,
"You brat! Causing trouble the moment you show up! Get out here with me!"
Without waiting for any kind of reply, Garp simply dragged him out of the classroom.
Under the countless gazes of recruits filled with envy and admiration, the two walked off briskly.
As he was pulled away, Gern still found time to shout cheerfully over his shoulder:
"Work hard, future stars of the Marines!!"
…
Behind the classroom building lay an empty patch of open ground.
The sea breeze drifted in from the distance, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean.
Garp leaned lazily against a massive boulder without any regard for his image. He dug his thick finger into his nose, glancing sideways at Gern before breaking the silence.
"Alright, spit it out. You troublesome little punk didn't come here just to visit this old man."
He snorted.
"Let me say this first—I'm officially retired now! If you're here to dump some mission on me, forget it!"
He crossed his arms in a stubborn, shameless pose that clearly screamed:
I'm not doing a damn thing.
Gern wasn't annoyed in the slightest.
Instead, he smiled faintly and—like a magician pulling a trick—produced a bag of rice crackers from his pocket.
The packaging boldly read:
"New Flavor — Explosive Volcano Spicy."
He tore open the bag neatly and held it out toward Garp.
"Here, Vice Admiral Garp. Try these. I hear they've got quite a kick."
Garp's eyes instantly lit up.
He grabbed the bag without hesitation, stuffed a cracker into his mouth, and began chewing loudly.
"Mmm… not bad!"
Crumbs flew as he spoke with his mouth full.
"If it's not about a mission, hurry up and talk! Once these snacks are gone, this old man's leaving!"
Gern watched him quietly.
The smile on his face gradually faded.
When he finally spoke again, his tone had become more serious than it had ever been.
"Vice Admiral Garp… I want to know what really happened at God Valley."
"God Valley?!"
Crunch—!
Garp's chewing abruptly stopped.
The rice cracker froze halfway between his fingers and his mouth.
The laziness vanished from his face entirely.
Slowly, he raised his head.
Those eyes—eyes that had weathered countless storms across the seas—studied Gern with intense seriousness.
He opened his mouth as if to say something.
But in the end, it only became a long, heavy sigh.
"You… ah…"
His voice lowered, tinged with complicated emotions.
"What exactly do you want to know?"
Gern's gaze sharpened like a blade.
He went straight to the heart of the matter.
"How did Rocks truly lose?"
"That day at God Valley… was it really just you and Roger who joined forces to defeat that man?"
"Or… did something else happen?"
"Something that shouldn't have been possible?"
Garp fell silent for a moment.
Then he placed the half-eaten cracker back into his mouth and chewed slowly.
His eyes drifted into the distance.
It was as if he had fallen back into a past long sealed away—one he had no desire to revisit.
His voice came out heavy and reluctant.
"Rocks… suffered a miserable defeat."
Garp's brows knitted tightly together.
"When that guy fought us… there wasn't any battle spirit on his face."
"There was madness."
"And…"
Garp paused.
"…he was crying."
"Crying the entire time."
Gern's pupils contracted slightly.
Garp continued.
"When I first received the order to head to God Valley, the official reason was to stop Roger and his crew from stealing the Celestial Dragons' treasure."
"But when I got there…"
His expression darkened.
"That wasn't the situation at all."
"That island… it was a damn island of sin, hidden under the World Government's cover!"
"Civilians were being slaughtered like livestock…"
As he spoke, Garp's fists clenched involuntarily.
Rice cracker crumbs crumbled and fell through the gaps between his fingers.
"Then later…"
Garp's voice lowered, and a faint chill crept into it.
"…that thing arrived."
"It couldn't be killed."
"Me. Roger. Rocks. Linlin. Whitebeard. Kaido."
"Six of us fighting together, going all out—and we couldn't do a damn thing to that monster."
"Its very existence violated common sense."
Gern's heart skipped violently.
He already understood what Garp meant.
Imu had personally intervened.
"What happened after that?" Gern asked quietly.
Garp's voice grew heavier.
"After that…"
"Rocks… was pierced."
Garp gestured with his hand.
"There was no wound."
"None at all."
"I swear—we didn't see any injury on his body."
"But his expression froze instantly."
"I could clearly feel the enormous Haki inside him resisting something."
"Fighting it desperately."
"But that resistance…"
Garp exhaled slowly.
"…disappeared."
"It was like something forcibly erased it."
"Then…"
Garp's tone darkened further.
"Rocks suddenly began to grow larger—completely out of control."
"And he lost all reason."
"The first thing he did was attack Kaido, who happened to be closest."
"One punch sent Linlin flying."
"Then he went completely insane and started fighting Whitebeard in a life-and-death battle!"
"At the time, Roger and I were both stunned."
"We had no idea what the hell had just happened!"
"When we finally realized something was horribly wrong with Rocks…"
Garp's voice dropped low.
"…he had already abandoned Whitebeard and was charging toward the survivors gathered elsewhere on the island."
"If we'd let him reach them…"
"There would have been an irreversible massacre."
"So Roger and I had no choice but to lure him back and fight him with everything we had…"
Garp fell silent for a moment.
When he spoke again, his voice carried deep exhaustion and helplessness.
"And after that…"
"…Roger and I joined forces."
"And defeated him."
He used the word defeated, not killed.
And the entire process had been filled with eerie chaos and uncontrollable madness.
In the end, Rocks had become nothing more than a puppet—his body manipulated by invisible strings, drowning in pain and despair.
Gern listened to this secret history, far darker than he had ever imagined.
The truth of God Valley was nothing like the fairy tale told to the world—
"The Marine hero and the Pirate King joining forces to defeat an evil tyrant."
The reality was far darker.
Far more grotesque.
As for what happened afterward, based on Garp's account, the rest could roughly be pieced together.
The God's Knights returned for another assault.
But Rayleigh and Scopper Gaban completely overwhelmed them, allowing the utterly exhausted Roger and Garp to retreat.
It was during that chaotic gap in the battle…
That Gern—who had also been present on God Valley back then—had been lucky enough to meet Rocks face-to-face.
He had personally buried the dying man.
And in doing so…
Inherited his sword.
The past had come full circle.
A boomerang returning to its origin.
The final piece of the story's opening mystery had finally been filled in.
..
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