One Piece: Dungeon Shop. Scamming Garp, Reward: Eight-Tails Jinchuriki Chapter 137: Who is Shanks? Doesn’t Matter

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Chapter 137: Who is Shanks? Doesn’t Matter.

anwhile, in a concealed cave on the border of the Land of Lightning.

"Ow, ow, ow! Be gentle! Are you a quack doctor trying to murder ?!"

Garp lay prone on a flat, large rock, biting down on a wooden stick and howling incoherently.

A Cloud dical ninja was sweating profusely as he treated the burns on Garp’s buttocks.

Although the wounds weren’t large, the burning sensation penetrated deep into the bone, making it difficult for even dical ninjutsu to heal them quickly.

A sat by the fire, his face so gloomy water could drip from it.

He held a map in his hand, which was now covered in red crosses.

"That brat nad Doi..."

A’s fist clenched with a cracking sound. "That kind of bizarre ability... if we don’t eliminate him early, he will definitely beco a major threat to the Cloud in the future."

Killer B sat to the side, oiling his seven swords for maintenance.

"Big Brother don’t fret, next ti we t, slice him up, like raw fish fillet! Yeah!"

Garp spat out the wooden stick, flipped over, and sat up cross-legged, completely ignoring the injury on his butt.

He pulled out a bag of flattened senbei from his chest pocket. He had specifically hidden them on his person before entering the dungeon. Although they had been crushed into crumbs, the flavor was still there.

Crunch, crunch.

As Garp chewed on the senbei crumbs, he stared blankly at the fire.

That wretched brat in sunglasses...

That familiar tone...

And that underhanded fighting style of specifically aiming for the lower body...

A glint flashed in Garp’s eyes.

"Bwahahahaha!"

Garp suddenly burst into laughter without warning, shaking the loose rocks from the cave ceiling.

The dical ninja beside him jumped in fright, his hand trembling, nearly stabbing the hemostat into Garp’s thigh.

A frowned at this crazy subordinate.

"Raito, what are you laughing at? You’ve been beaten like this and you can still laugh?"

"Nothing, nothing!"

Garp waved his hand, laughing until tears nearly ca out.

"I just suddenly feel that this war... is getting more and more interesting!"

"Hey, Boss A!"

Garp slapped his thigh, his face full of excitent.

"Next ti we go to hit that Iwagakure village, rember to call this old man!"

"This old man is going to personally spank that sunglasses brat’s butt until it blooms!"

A looked at this teenager full of wild arrogance. After a mont of silence, the corner of his mouth also curled into a savage grin.

"Ah, that goes without saying."

"The sha of the Yotsuki clan must be washed away with blood."

Outside the cave, thunder and rain mixed together.

The winds and clouds of the ninja world were becoming increasingly uncontrollable due to the ddling of these outsiders.

.....

East Blue, ten thousand ters in the air.

The cloud layer looked as if it had been cleaved by a giant blade, rolling back to both sides.

A giant, azure-blue dragon with six wings was shuttling through the sea of clouds. Its scales refracted a jewel-like luster under the sunlight. Every flap of its wings created visible vortexes of airflow around it.

Dvalin, the Dragon of the East.

Blake sat cross-legged on the dragon’s spine. The fierce wind automatically softened three ters away from him; not even the corner of his clothes was ruffled.

He held a glass of iced rum he had bought in Loguetown, looking down at the azure sea below.

Blake took a sip of the wine and gently patted the dragon scales beneath him.

The giant dragon let out a clear, resonant roar, the sound waves dispersing the cumulonimbus clouds ahead.

Its speed suddenly increased.

The islands below retreated rapidly like pieces on a chessboard.

Foosha Village, arrived.

The current Foosha Village was long past being that remote, quiet little fishing village.

Ever since Blake settled here, and especially after Shiki the Golden Lion bought land and Garp beca a permanent resident, this place had beco the most special location in the East Blue, and perhaps the entire world.

The harbor was full of warships flying the World Governnt flag, and quite a few bold rchant ships were docked on the periphery.

The streets had been widened. Beside the originally simple wooden houses, luxurious villas of various styles had sprung up from the ground.

These were temporary residences built by the wealthy rchants and nobles who had been attracted here, just to be a little closer to that legendary "God."

Just then, the people in the village felt the sky darken.

It wasn’t dark clouds.

It was a massive shadow blocking the sun.

Workers moving cargo at the docks stopped their movents. Marine soldiers on patrol tightened their grip on their rifles. Wealthy rchants drinking afternoon tea in their villa gardens knocked over their teacups.

Everyone looked up in unison.

"That... that is..."

A young Marine Ensign’s pupils constricted violently, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

The massive azure dragon folded its wings, carrying a majesty that oppressed all living beings, and slowly landed on the cliff behind the mountain.

As the dragon landed, the earth trembled lightly.

A gale whistled past, making the masts of the warships in the harbor creak.

Those indifferent dragon pupils scanned the tiny crowd below, then finally closed, as if taking a nap, or perhaps disdainful of paying attention to these ants.

A figure leaped down from the dragon’s back.

He stepped in the air, as if walking down invisible stairs, heading step by step towards the tavern in the center of the village.

Pushing open the not-so-heavy wooden door, the wind chis made a crisp sound.

Blake casually tossed a coat stained with the chill of high altitude onto the back of a chair and walked straight to the bar to sit down.

"Welco back, Mr. Blake."

Makino was wiping a glass. Seeing the visitor, a gentle smile appeared on her face. She turned skillfully and took down a dark bottle without any label from the top shelf of the liquor cabinet.

Inside the tavern, there was only the crisp sound of ice cubes hitting the glass.

Blake downed it in one gulp.

The cold liquor slid down his throat.

Refreshing!

"Have any fools ca looking for trouble these past two days?"

Ever since Blake established the no violence rule in Foosha Village, this originally remote small island had changed.

The small tavern that used to be patronized only by fishern had now beco a "Holy Land" in the eyes of various wealthy rchants, nobles, and even high-ranking Marine officials.

Makino stopped wiping the glass, folded a clean cloth, and placed it under the counter.

Her makeup today was slightly more exquisite than usual, and a naless small white flower was tucked behind her ear.

"No trouble at all."

Makino smiled, turning to take out a plate of freshly cut cheese from the cabinet behind her.

"At first, there were indeed a few foreign rchants who said they wanted to buy this shop for a high price. Their attitude was quite forceful."

Blake raised an eyebrow, his fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop.

"And then?"

"And then they were thrown out by Hatchan."

Makino pointed toward the back door of the tavern.

Through the half-open back door, one could see a mini-sized Gyūki (Eight-Tails) octopus bull sunbathing on the open ground in the backyard.

Although its size had been compressed to that of a normal beast, the pressure of chakra from a Tailed Beast was still a nightmare for ordinary people.

"That day, those rchants brought more than a dozen bodyguards, and they were holding guns."

Makino recalled the scene at the ti, and the corners of her mouth couldn’t help but curl up.

"As a result, before they even entered the door, they were rolled up by Hatchan’s tentacles and thrown directly into the sea like pebbles."

"Since then, whether it’s foreign nobles or jealous competitors, they all have to walk around when passing by here."

Blake chuckled lightly, picking up a piece of cheese and tossing it into his mouth.

"Good job. Looks like I didn’t raise it in vain."

"Of course. Hatchan is very well-behaved; he can even help move beer kegs now."

Makino refilled Blake’s glass, looking at the man in front of her with a soft gaze.

Black hair, black eyes, always wearing a simple set of casual clothes. He looked completely different from those fierce and evil pirates.

But it was this man who, in this chaotic sea, gave her an unprecedented sense of security.

That red-haired man who was always laughing and joking, although also very interesting, couldn’t give this kind of stability.

Shanks was the wind, destined to drift.

But Blake was the mountain. As long as he sat here, the wind and rain couldn’t get in.

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