"Are you kidding me, Garp?!"
Sengoku finally managed to speak.
He wished the Den Den Mushi had malfunctioned instead!
"Sixteen years old. A kid with terrifying strength who has already grasped all three types of Haki? When Roger was that age, he was just a clueless kid worrying about the size of his straw hat!" Sengoku grabbed a teacup from the table.
He intended to take a sip but realized the cup had cracked when he slammed his hand down earlier.
The tea spilled all over his trousers.
Ignoring the mess, he glared at the Den Den Mushi.
Its fish-eyed face mimicked Garp's expression, casually picking its nose.
"If such a monster truly exists, why have we never heard a single whisper about him over the past years? Are you suggesting he just popped out of a rock?"
"Bwahahaha! You cannot just pop out a grandson like that!" The sound of Garp munching on rice crackers scraped against Sengoku's nerves.
"This kid is an orphan who grew up wrestling wild animals in the mountains. Who knew his potential would suddenly awaken today? Sengoku, I guarantee you, this kid was born to serve the Marines!"
Garp's voice suddenly rose, brimming with fervor that threatened to lift the roof off the room.
"With just a little polishing, he will not just become an Admiral—he will become the supreme force of this entire ocean!"
"Supreme force?! What nonsense is that?! Stop making up ridiculous titles!"
Sengoku roared, cutting off his old friend's rambling.
His heaving chest, however, betrayed his barely suppressed excitement.
He turned to gaze at the Navy's top combatants seated around the conference table.
Akainu remained stone-faced, though he failed to notice the burning tip of his cigar searing his gloved finger.
Aokiji pushed up his sleep mask, his usually tired eyes now radiating sharp focus.
Even the notoriously nonchalant Kizaru had abandoned his signature pout, stroking his stubbled chin with a thoughtful air.
'If it's true...'
The Marines might have finally acquired a weapon powerful enough to end the Great Pirate Era.
"Good! Good! Good!" Sengoku exclaimed, waving his hand grandly. "Garp, I will overlook your slacking off in the East Blue this time. Now, deploy your warship and escort that brat back to Marineford immediately!"
Sengoku snatched a spare Den Den Mushi, his voice urgent.
"Put him on the line! I want to speak with him personally. A talent like this deserves the highest priority. I will make an exception—"
"Uh... well... about that..."
The chewing sounds on the other end of the line stopped abruptly.
The previous smugness vanished instantly, replaced by an awkward silence.
Sengoku's heart skipped a beat. An ominous premonition crawled up his spine.
"Garp," Sengoku's voice dropped to a chillingly low tone. "Don't tell me you lost him."
"Lost? Well, not exactly..." Garp chuckled nervously. "He just got excited when I told him about all the strong fighters at Marine Headquarters. Before I could get the warship ready, he took a single-masted sailboat... and took off."
Silence.
"Took off?" The corner of Sengoku's mouth twitched uncontrollably. "You mean a sixteen-year-old kid who has never been on a long voyage before is sailing alone? He is on a rickety sailboat with zero escort, heading who knows where?"
"Hahaha! Don't worry, Sengoku! That kid is as strong as a wild bull! A measly Sea King..."
"THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE SEA KINGS!"
Sengoku crushed the Den Den Mushi in his hand.
His roar nearly shook Marineford's fortress to its foundations.
"The East Blue may be the Weakest Sea, but it is still the open ocean! No navigator! No proper charts! If he runs into a storm or gets lost, even a top-tier fighter will starve to death! You damned fool! You are murdering the Navy's future!"
The admirals in the conference room froze, silent as mice.
Sengoku whirled around and roared toward the door.
"Onigumo! Where are you?! Launch your fleet immediately! Head full speed to the junction between the East Blue and the Grand Line! And Smoker... that prickly bastard is still in Loguetown, correct? Get him on the Den Den Mushi! Tell him: if he does not capture that kid, or if so much as a hair on his head is harmed, I will throw him into Impel Down's Sixth Level for reflection!"
"All East Blue Marine branches, listen up! Whatever the cost, find him now! We cannot let him perish on the way due to some idiotic mishap like getting lost!"
...
East Blue, an Unnamed Stretch of Sea
Under the blazing sun, the sea lay still. Its tranquility broke only when the occasional flying fish leaped from the water.
A slightly dilapidated single-masted sailboat drifted listlessly on the waves.
On deck, a bare-chested young man gripped a blunt wooden sword with both hands.
Sweat cascaded down his chiseled muscles to form a small puddle at his feet.
"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-eight..."
"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine..."
"Ten thousand!"
As the final number squeezed through his teeth, Zaraki's wooden sword slashed down with ferocious force.
This strike drew upon zero Haki and zero flying slashes. It relied purely on raw physical strength and muscle memory.
Whoosh—
The air compressed violently, emitting a deep, explosive rumble.
A visible white shockwave erupted from the blade's edge, carving a trench tens of meters long across the calm sea surface.
Moments later, the displaced water crashed back together.
Zaraki exhaled heavily and casually sheathed the wooden sword at his hip. He paid zero attention to the staggering destructive power he had just unleashed.
For him, this was merely routine.
[Ding! Daily quest "Swing your sword ten thousand times" completed.]
[Kenpachi Zaraki template unlock progress slightly increased... Current unlock progress: 5.4%]
The cold, digital voice in his mind now sounded almost comforting.
Zaraki grabbed a waterskin from the deck and tilted it back, taking a long, greedy swig.
The lukewarm, brackish water slid down his throat. It quenched his parched throat slightly.
He wiped the sweat from his face, savoring the seemingly endless surge of Reiatsu coursing through his veins.
A faint smile curled his lips.
Effort begets reward.
That was the beauty of the System.
Even the monotonous act of swinging his sword allowed him to clearly feel his growth.
This tangible sensation of power surging through his veins proved far more addictive than anything he had experienced in his previous life.
'But...'
Zaraki walked to the ship's rail, shielding his brow with one hand as he gazed out at the boundless sea.
A trace of helplessness flickered across his face.
"I've gained strength, but I seem to have overlooked a rather fatal problem."
He sighed, glancing down at the small boat spinning haphazardly in the gentle breeze.
Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair.
"I have absolutely no idea how to navigate!"
Before his reincarnation, he was the kind of hopeless wanderer who would board the subway in the wrong direction.
Expecting him to navigate by the stars in a world without GPS was impossible.
For the past two days, he had drifted aimlessly based purely on intuition.
At this rate, he might end up becoming a pirate—the kind who starves to death at sea.
"Hitching a ride on a Marine warship with that old man would have been so much better."
Just as Zaraki contemplated whether to dive into the sea and catch a Sea King for sashimi, a peculiar wave suddenly invaded his senses.
'Kenbunshoku Haki.'
Unlike Garp's wide-range radar, Zaraki's Kenbunshoku Haki functioned more like a keen, beast-like instinct for sensing malice and powerful individuals.
In the southeast direction, a ship approached rapidly.
On that ship, Zaraki sensed a chaotic aura—the unmistakable scent of desperate fugitives.
'A pirate ship?'
Zaraki's eyes lit up.
For him, pirate ships meant sparring partners.
More importantly, they typically carried a navigator and abundant supplies.
'Talk about perfect timing. Someone's bringing me a pillow just as I was getting sleepy!'
The smile on Zaraki's lips widened.
A bloodthirsty madness gradually surfaced in his clear eyes.
The next moment, his expression faltered slightly.
Ahead of the chaotic aura, he detected a familiar presence.
Though somewhat immature, the aura radiated a fiery battle intent.
'That feeling...' Zaraki raised an eyebrow, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of the sword at his hip.
His gaze locked onto the source of the aura.
'Who else could it be but that guy who's dreaming of surpassing him?'
Having run into Ace, Zaraki felt compelled to greet him.
'Hopefully, those pirate crew has enough meat and liquor stocked on their ship. Otherwise, I'll have to tie them up and turn them in for bounty money to buy food,' Zaraki muttered to himself.
He picked up a spare wooden plank from the deck.
The tattered sailboat's sail had already been torn in half by the shockwave from his earlier sword swing, rendering wind power useless.
Fortunately, brute strength was the one thing Zaraki had in abundance.
"Move... NOW!"
His arm muscles bulged, veins coiling beneath his skin as he slammed the wooden plank into the water like a giant oar.
BOOM!
A massive wave erupted from the stern of the sailboat.
The entire vessel groaned with a teeth-grinding creak. The bow shot upward, then plunged forward like an arrow leaving a bow.
Seawater splashed over Zaraki's bare torso.
Instead of feeling the chill, he felt only the thrill of the hunt.
As they drew closer, the briny sea breeze mingled with a pungent sulfurous odor—the acrid stench of burning low-grade gunpowder.
"Looks like there's no need to be polite, They've already started fighting!" Zaraki murmured, licking his chapped lips.
Through his Kenbunshoku Haki, he sensed a frenzied malice erupting violently.
The aura he had misidentified earlier was now stretched to its breaking point, on the verge of exhaustion.
'No, something's wrong.'
As the sailboat crested the final wave, the horizon snapped into clear view.
Zaraki narrowed his eyes.
...
Ahead on the sea, a mid-sized pirate ship bearing a black axe-and-skull flag billowed its sails.
Its cannons spewed fiery tongues.
Black cannonballs crashed into the sea, erupting in columns of water.
Beneath that relentless barrage, a pitifully small skiff weaved desperately through the waves.
Even at this distance, Zaraki's sharp eyes clearly discerned the figure being pursued.
It wasn't Ace like he thought.
Though radiating a similar battle spirit, this person's aura felt colder and harder—like a shard of deep-sea iron.
Most striking were his short, emerald-green hair gleaming in the sunlight and the three long swords clanging at his waist with every frantic movement.
"Green-haired guy... three swords..."
Zaraki paused.
His manic grin widened, taking on a playful edge.
"Ha! Looks like my luck's still holding out. He's not Ace, but this lost soul is far more intriguing."
If that guy was navigating the ship, then he's doomed.
He would probably spend his entire life circling the entrance to the Grand Line!
But—
Zaraki's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, feeling the rough texture against his palm.
The crimson glint in his eyes flickered.
Rather than finding a mere driver, this raw unrefined gem seemed far more valuable.
Whether to hone his blade or recruit as a subordinate, he presented a far more intriguing prospect.
...
Meanwhile, on the battlefield ahead.
BOOM!
Another cannonball landed less than three meters to the left of the skiff.
The massive shockwave sent tons of seawater crashing violently over the precarious vessel.
The icy water sloshed ankle-deep across the deck, its chilling bite cutting to the bone.
Roronoa Zoro gasped for breath, his chest heaving heavily.
Sweat mixed with seawater streamed into his eyes, causing a searing sting.
He couldn't spare even a blink.
This was the second day already.
Ever since that foolish tavern brawl yesterday, the Black Axe Pirates had hounded him relentlessly!
An entire day and night of pursuit without food, fresh water, or even a second to rest.
His stamina had reached its absolute breaking point!