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Chapter 7 - C7: The Fleet Admiral’s Headache – A Legend in the Making

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Inside an office within the towering Marine Headquarters, warm afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, casting long, diagonal shadows across the desk of a robust man. He wore a crisp white coat over his shoulders and a unique Marine cap adorned with a life-sized seagull.

As the Fleet Admiral, Sengoku lived under a mountain of daily responsibilities. From managing complex Marine deployments to tracking the dangerous movements of pirates across the Grand Line, every decision required his meticulous review. This immense pressure kept him perpetually serious, creating an aura of authority so intense that most subordinates feared even breathing too loudly in his presence.

That authority, however, meant absolutely nothing to one man.

BANG!!

The heavy office door was kicked open with enough force to make the frames rattle. Before the intruder even crossed the threshold, a boisterous voice echoed through the room. "Hahahaha! Sengoku, I'm back!"

Monkey D. Garp strolled in with his hands in his pockets as if he owned the place. Ignoring the visible vein throbbing on Sengoku's forehead, Garp walked straight to a cabinet, helped himself to the Fleet Admiral's private tea leaves, and brewed a cup. He sank into the sofa with a contented sigh after taking a loud sip. "Mmm! So refreshing! Your tea is always the most fragrant, Sengoku!"

Sengoku's face darkened with frustration until he finally snapped. He slammed his fist onto his desk, roaring, "Garp! How many times have I told you to knock before entering my office?!"

"Hahahaha! Don't sweat the small stuff, Sengoku! Here, want some senbei?" Garp laughed, pulling a bag of rice crackers from his pocket and offering them to his fuming comrade.

Sengoku gritted his teeth, but he knew he was powerless to change the old hero's ways. They were old comrades-in-arms who had served together for decades; they understood each other too well. Resigned, Sengoku snatched a handful of crackers and chewed them fiercely, as if he were taking a bite out of Garp himself.

"Alright, enough," Sengoku muttered once his anger subsided. "Tell me about the investigation."

Garp's playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of grim sobriety. "The reports were accurate. The soldier's father was permanently disabled after being bullied by local villagers. When the boy went home to visit, he lost control of his temper. He beat two of the men to death." Garp shook his head with regret. "He told me he had no regrets about protecting his father, but he felt he had dishonored the Marines. He wants to resign. It's a waste of a promising talent."

Sengoku nodded solemnly. While the soldier's motives were understandable, murder was a line the Navy couldn't ignore. He suspected Garp had only taken such a minor case because he was bored or craving food from that specific region.

"Oh, right!" Garp's grin suddenly returned. "I almost forgot. You'll never guess what I brought back with me this time!"

"If it's more food, I'm not interested," Sengoku replied, turning back to his paperwork.

"No, no! Better than food! I brought you a talent—a boy who will absolutely change the future of the Marines!"

Sengoku finally looked up, intrigued by the rare high praise. "It's not like you to gush over a recruit. Fine, tell me about him."

Garp took a large gulp of tea and leaned back. "Well, it's a long story..." He recounted his first meeting with Goku—how the boy had stood up to pirates and shown incredible raw power. "With his courage and strength, he's a diamond in the rough!"

"Wait a second," Sengoku interrupted, catching a specific detail. "You said he's only twelve? You want to enlist a twelve-year-old? That's absurd!" Standard recruitment began at eighteen, and even the most gifted geniuses were only allowed in at fourteen. Garp was asking to break every protocol in the book.

"Just listen! His situation is special," Garp urged, even going so far as to refill Sengoku's teacup with a rare, ingratiating smile.

Sengoku eyed him suspiciously. "Alright, let's hear this 'special' story."

"First, the boy seems to have been abandoned. He woke up on a strange island and has no idea where his relatives are," Garp explained. "But the second point is the kicker. Sengoku, this kid has a talent I've never seen. He mastered three of the Six Styles just by watching them once!"

The Fleet Admiral froze, his teacup halfway to his mouth. "He learned them by watching... once?"

"That's right! He saw Bogard use them and picked up Soru, Moonwalk, and Rankyaku in less than ten minutes!"

Sengoku sat in stunned silence. In all his decades of service, he had never heard of a human being capable of such a feat. Mastering even one of the Six Styles was a lifetime goal for elite Marines.

Suddenly, a gasp drifted in from the open window. Garp's Observation Haki flared, and he stepped toward the balcony, peering down at the plaza below. He turned back to Sengoku and waved him over. "Come here, Sengoku. Look for yourself. That's the kid right there."

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