Monts earlier.
A Marine warship surged up the sea current toward the Reverse Mountain channel, speeding toward its peak.
Vice Admiral Garp, wearing his iconic dog-head cap, stood tall at the ship's prow. The figurehead on the bow was also a dog gnawing on a bone—truly becoming one with its vessel.
He narrowed his eyes as he watched the dark pirate ship ahead.
"Vice Admiral Garp!" soone called urgently from behind. He turned to see two young recruits who had recently joined the Marines—Koby and Helppo Jr.
Both had personal reasons to enlist: Koby had lost his right arm; Helppo Jr. had lost his father. Their shared hatred for Davy Jones had bonded them, and Garp had given them a chance to serve by his side.
"What's wrong?" Garp asked, picking his nose in his signature casual manner. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
Helppo Jr. shrank back after hearing that. Without backing from Cap—no, from Garp—he'd lost much of his swagger.
After a mont's hesitation, Koby swallowed hard and stepped forward.
"Vice Admiral Garp… should we continue the chase? Many Marine soldiers at the base of Reverse Mountain are wounded or stranded at sea with no one to help them. Maybe we should turn back and rescue them?"
He still harbored hatred for Davy Jones—but more fear for the safety of his comrades.
Turn back now?
Garp slowly turned, removed his finger from his nose, and's expression turned serious.
"Koby, as the forces of Justice, we bear burdens and restrictions—yes—but we also risk missing the mont that would make us aningful."
He pointed down to the sea at Reverse Mountain and then to the dark ship ahead.
"We've lost so many. We are this close to intercepting Davy Jones' crew. If we let go now, all their sacrifices lose aning. Koby, think: why did they go into battle at all?"
"But…" Koby's retort choked off mid-sentence, and Helppo Jr. tugged on his collar, pulling him away.
Garp shook his head, murmuring:
Sigh—this new generation doesn't know the savage brutality of our era. Their resolve just isn't tempered. I hope the Grand Line shapes them.
Turning his gaze back to the dark ship, he frowned in concern.
That ship's speed was impossible—their own vessel was among the fastest, yet the gap between them... was widening, not closing.
They couldn't let it reach the Grand Line. Even if it just passed Twin Cape, Admiral Sengoku would chew him out for months.
Decision made, Garp shouted to the deck crew:
"I'm going ahead to join Smoker and Tashigi—you, follow !"
The marines were used to Garp's reckless orders and shouted back in unison: "Yes, Vice Admiral!"
Then Garp sprang forward from the prow—using Moonwalk and Soru. In just ten seconds, he caught up to the dark ship!
What he saw as he neared stunned him: Smoker and Tashigi had been thrown off the deck by Davy Jones's crushing strength.
Smoker and Tashigi couldn't handle him?
Or was sothing else at play?
Too late to ponder. Garp let out a thunderous shout midair:
"Smoker! Tashigi! Get out of there!"
Instantly—Smoker turned into smoke and whisked Tashigi toward the shoreline of the Reverse Mountain channel.
At the sa ti, the dark ship darted past the mountain's peak and plunged downward on the descending current.
Davy Jones looked in Garp's direction—and recognized the white-haired man standing atop his ship's deck. Garp's Observation Haki sent shockwaves through Jones's senses.
To think the East Blue—known as the "weakest sea"—harbored three monstrous powers.
First Mihawk, then Dragon… and now this?
"G-Garp!" Buggy scread from the air, seeing the old Marine. He recognized Garp and turned pale. His scattered body parts reford at his feet, and he grabbed his head in terror, sweat pouring down.
That was the sa Buggy from Roger's apprentice crew.
Garp only shook his head. He ford a stance midair—his body tensed like a taut bowstring—his fist pulled back like a lethal arrow, aid at the Terror Ghost.
"Fist Bone – Impact!"
An exceptional burst of Haki erupted from his punch, forming a tangible shockwave. It enveloped the Terror Ghost and the entire channel above.
BOOM!
Garp's single blow stopped even the storm montarily. The channel exploded like a dam bursting—columns of seawater erupted skyward.
As the sea churned, Reverse Mountain cracked open like a teor's impact crater. Its terrain completely altered.
The dark ship vanished into the chasm—apparently pulverized.
Maybe I overdid it…
Garp blinked, alerted by his Observation Haki. The ship had already passed through the crater—it hadn't been destroyed at all. It glided smoothly through the currents toward the Grand Line!
Now glowing with eerie green light, the ship flickered in and out of existence—because Davy Jones had used his final card: Ghost Ship Mode, rendering the Terror Ghost intangible for a short duration.
It succeeded, escaping Garp's devastating punch.
But the danger wasn't over. With the ship hurtling toward the Grand Line, its green glow faded, and it glided downward like a blade.
Water poured back into the crater Garp had created. Even he, dividing the sea montarily, couldn't hold back the ocean's flow forever.
I can't allow that ship to enter the Grand Line.
Garp's expression turned deadly serious. He readied for another Moonwalk and Soru dash—but a scream behind him pulled him back.
He turned to see his dog-head flagship hovering overhead—rapidly sinking into his created crater. It was about to break apart!
Koby and Helppo Jr. clung together, crying. The other Marines looked pale and defeated.
Garp glanced at the ship—and then pivoted toward his own flagship.
He raised both with bone-shattering strength, stopping the ship just before the crater. Then he flung it onto the Red Line—where the onboard Marines were safe, albeit shaken and injured.
My waist tweaked…
Garp rubbed his side, pressed off a stone ledge with Rokushiki, and again leaped after the dark ship.
But as he watched it pass Twin Cape and sail into the vast ocean, Garp weakly landed on a nearby rock, gasping for breath.
He'd pushed too hard—over-extended himself—and his body, now older, was rebelling. He had endured the punch, saved the ship, and now just couldn't go on.
As he watched the ship disappear through sea and fog—enveloped by mist—gloom spread over him.
Sigh...
He had no more energy to chase on empty ocean. There was no land ahead.
Footsteps in sandals approached.
"Are you alright?" asked another older Marine. "At your age, you still think you can chase pirates across the seas like your old days?"
A feathered cap and casual-style uniform erged from behind a rock.
"Crocus?" Garp nodded in recognition, then slumped down and laughed heartily.
I guess I can't deny I'm old now. I could chase—but I can't catch anymore.
"Good that you know your limits." Crocus knelt beside him. "Relax—I'll check your injuries."
"Ahaha… do your thing, do your thing." Garp offered an arm to Crocus, who had extensive dical knowledge.
And thus ended the naval battle to eliminate the Davy Jones crew—a clear failure.
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