One Piece: Scourge of the Seas

"Haha!"

On a calm, sunny day at sea, Garp's boisterous laughter echoed across the waters.

Smack!

That was the sound of Garp slapping someone hard on the shoulder.

"Kuzan, you've got guts, getting on this ship without even knowing where we're headed! Bwahaha!"

Smack!

Another heavy-handed shoulder slap landed.

Kuzan—otherwise known as Aokiji—took the hits silently, managing only a wry smile as Garp's laughter subsided. Rubbing his sore shoulder, Kuzan asked, "So, what are we heading to the West Blue for?"

"Oh, just to visit an old friend," Garp replied casually.

"An old friend? I thought we'd be heading to the East Blue."

"Haha!" Garp slapped Kuzan's shoulder again, but this time his expression turned serious. "This time is different."

"Different?" A flicker of curiosity crossed Kuzan's face.

Garp's laughter gradually faded, and his tone became solemn. "The person I'm meeting this time is the Phantom Gun."

Kuzan was silent for a moment before he responded in surprise, "The Phantom Gun? You don't mean that Phantom Gun from the Roger Pirates, do you?"

"Who else could it be?" Garp gave Kuzan an odd look, as if to say the question was redundant.

Kuzan glanced around, his gaze landing on Garp's deputy, Bogard, who stood nearby.

"Bogard, have you seen my bicycle?" Kuzan asked.

"No," Bogard replied, shaking his head under the brim of his hat.

Scratching the back of his head, Kuzan got to his feet and bent down to fold up his sun lounger, clearly preparing to leave the ship.

Smack!

Garp's hand landed on his shoulder once more.

Looking up, Kuzan was met with Garp's carefree grin.

"Kuzan, the West Blue is a fun place."

"But the Phantom Gun you're looking for is not fun," Kuzan muttered with a sigh.

Garp withdrew his hand, picking at his nose with no concern for appearances. "Relax. I don't need you to do anything. Just kick back and take it easy."

"That phrase… it doesn't really fit here, but fine. I'll go take it easy," Kuzan replied as he reached for his sun lounger again.

Smack!And again, Garp delivered another shoulder slap.

This time, he flicked the booger he had just picked onto Kuzan's shoulder before pulling his hand back. "Since you're already here, at least stay for dinner before you go."

"…"

Kuzan glanced at the booger on his shoulder, utterly speechless. With a faint sigh, he activated his powers, freezing the booger solid before flicking it off with a finger.

He knew exactly what kind of opponent the Phantom Gun was, and it was clear why Garp wanted him to stay.

Fine…

Getting a glimpse of a battle between old legends might not be so bad.

Kuzan leaned back into his sun lounger. Garp chuckled and, with the same booger-picking hand, grabbed a senbei cracker, holding it out to Kuzan's face.

"Here, have a cracker."

"…"

Without a word, Kuzan pulled his sleep mask over his eyes, choosing to ignore Garp entirely.

Unbothered, Garp tossed the cracker into his own mouth.

He didn't need Kuzan's strength to take on the Phantom Gun—he could handle that himself. Still, since Kuzan had boarded his ship, Garp figured he might as well keep him around. After all, having Kuzan there was like adding an extra layer of protection for his crew.

Garp had faced the Roger Pirates many times and knew just how troublesome the Phantom Gun could be.

The problem lay in two things: mobility and lethality.

During battle, chasing down the Phantom Gun was nearly impossible. Defenses might hold, but the Phantom Gun had a knack for picking off teammates.

It was infuriating—enough to make anyone grind their teeth in frustration—yet there was little anyone could do about it.

Time and again, the Phantom Gun's long-range attacks had alleviated the Roger Pirates' pressure on the frontlines. What was most unnerving was that many who were struck down by the Phantom Gun never even saw where the bullet came from—or who had pulled the trigger.

In the heat of battle, most attention naturally gravitated toward powerhouses like Roger or Whitebeard, whose overwhelming presence dominated the battlefield.

The Phantom Gun's subtlety, however, quietly yet effectively thinned the ranks of their enemies.

Even just the thought of a sniper lurking in the shadows added an invisible layer of psychological pressure.

That was the Phantom Gun's true terror.

He didn't seek fame, nor did he crave recognition. He simply and flawlessly fulfilled his role, silently supporting his comrades from the rear.

Throughout Garp's long career, he had never encountered a second marksman quite like the Phantom Gun.

The closest comparison might be the Red-Haired Pirates of today's Yonko, Shanks. Perhaps it was because Shanks hailed from the Roger Pirates, but his crew also boasted a formidable lineup of sharpshooters, earning them a similar reputation.

Garp looked up at the blue sky and white clouds above.

"This time, I won't let you escape."

West Blue, Marine Base 158.

Inside a well-equipped indoor training hall, the air buzzed with energy.

"Hyah!"

"Hyaah!"

"Hyah!"

The Marines in formation trained with an unusual fervor.

Despite enduring intense, borderline-excessive drills that left their uniforms drenched in sweat, they showed no signs of fatigue.

What was driving them?

Every now and then, the soldiers couldn't help but glance toward a figure not far away—a woman equally drenched in sweat, her presence radiant.

The air was thick with a jasmine-like fragrance that seemed to invigorate everyone present.

The source of the scent? Gion—a woman they deemed nothing short of perfection.

"Fragrant and radiant…"

The phrase echoed in the minds of every Marine, perfectly capturing Gion's allure.

It was her unique scent, carried by her Devil Fruit ability, that spurred them to push beyond their limits and complete today's training. No, not just complete it—they had gone above and beyond.

Some had even started a second round of drills, just for a chance to linger a little longer in her presence.

Gion ignored the admiring gazes from all around her, focusing entirely on her own exercises.

Normally, she wouldn't even be at the training grounds during this time.

But today, she'd received word that Garp was on his way.

With a mission to hunt down the Phantom Gun in Mad Hat Town looming, her restless energy had driven her to the training grounds for a spontaneous workout.

In the process, her Devil Fruit abilities had inadvertently affected the other Marines.

At the edge of the training hall stood Captain Robbie, recently assigned here from Marine Headquarters.

The matter concerning the Platinum Merchant Guild had been resolved, but Robbie showed no urgency to return to Headquarters.

The reason was simple: Gion.

He watched her with a smile, his admiration for her written all over his face.

Beside him, a local Marine commander whispered, "The fragrance coming from Rear Admiral Gion…"

"Gion's popularity has little to do with that," Robbie interjected, cutting him off.

"I just meant…" the commander stammered, but Robbie interrupted him again.

"Oh, that's her Devil Fruit ability," he said nonchalantly.

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