Chapter 26: Purely Natural Handmade Shells

A solid iron cannonball flying at supersonic speed could destroy a ship with a single blow, relying solely on its kinetic energy.

By Garen's reckoning, for the other side to accelerate a metal projectile to such a terrifying velocity, they must have used some sort of high-tech electromagnetic railgun invented by one of the mad scientists in the world of pirates.

But in truth...

This cannonball was launched entirely by hand.

Not long before...

A colossal warship, bristling with turrets and masts that filled the sky, sliced slowly through the tranquil waves of the East Sea.

Upon that mountainous vessel's hull, a massive flag fluttered high—a white background emblazoned with a seagull clutching a wrench.

It was a navy warship, the sort only rear admirals and above in the navy headquarters were entitled to command, fitted with a precious Sea Prism Stone base, enabling it to traverse freely between the Grand Line and the four seas.

Yet on the broad deck, a long lounge chair had been placed—a sight oddly out of place amid the ship's imposing presence. Upon it lay a burly old man, hair and beard white as snow, yet his body knotted with muscle, slumbering deeply.

The gentle sea breeze of the East Sea stirred, rousing the old man abruptly from his dreams.

He blinked at the surrounding seascape, then casually reached for a rice cracker from the small tea table beside him, popping it into his mouth.

“There’s wind...”

Munching on the cracker, the devilishly muscular old man spoke with little concern to the naval officer standing by his side:

“Smoker, have we arrived in the East Sea yet?”

A large warship from navy headquarters would not ordinarily be seen in the East Sea, known as the weakest of the four seas. This trip served a dual purpose: to escort the naval hero Garp back to his hometown for a vacation, and to transfer Headquarters Captain Smoker and his subordinates to Roguetown Naval Base, the gateway between the East Sea and the Grand Line, for a change of garrison.

“Yes, Vice Admiral Garp!”

Smoker wore a heavy coat, the word “Justice” emblazoned on the back, but unlike the standard navy capes, his had the wild flair of a biker gang’s jacket. Coupled with his exposed, muscular chest and abs, his unruly gray buzz cut, and the thick cigar clamped between his teeth, Smoker looked more like a mob boss than a righteous navy officer.

His personality matched his appearance; if something displeased him, he’d even curse his superior to his face.

Many in navy headquarters speculated that Smoker’s explosive temper was precisely why such a promising young captain was transferred to the “weakest sea.”

Nevertheless, even someone as unrestrained as Smoker instinctively tempered his attitude in the presence of the formidable Garp, his words tinged with respect:

“We just crossed the Calm Belt and have entered East Sea waters!”

“Good...”

Garp rose abruptly, stretching his body at random. His powerful frame crackled like roasting beans.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a vacation in the East Sea!”

Feeling the humid sea breeze, Garp broke into a carefree, contented smile.

“I wonder how Luffy is doing. He’d better not follow in Ace’s idiotic footsteps...”

“Hm?”

Mid-sentence, Garp’s eyes suddenly narrowed. His sharp gaze pierced the thin sea mist and fixed on a distant point.

“A pirate ship?”

Smoker quickly followed Garp’s gaze, but with all his strength as a captain, he saw only endless ocean.

His respect for the naval hero Garp deepened further.

“Hahaha...”

“To dare sail so close to the Calm Belt’s ocean currents—seems we have some gutsy young men!”

Garp laughed heartily and swung his burly arm.

“Just as I’ve woken up—time to get some exercise!”

“Bring me a few cannonballs!”

The surrounding sailors looked on with anticipation and excitement.

“Is Vice Admiral Garp about to demonstrate his power again?”

“Enough chatter...”

Smoker, chewing on his cigar, barked impatiently at his men, “Hurry up and bring the cannonballs!”

“Yes, sir!”

The sailors hastened to comply, none showing the slightest fear. They knew their fearsome-looking superior was, in truth, a considerate leader.

Soon, a basket of solid iron cannonballs was placed beside Garp.

With a casual motion, Garp picked up a cannonball, weighing it lightly in his hand, his eyes scanning the distant horizon only he could see.

Finally, Garp stretched his body and bent his arm slightly.

“Fist Bone Meteor!”

The iron ball shot from his hand, accelerating to a terrifying speed in an instant.

The projectile burned bright red as it tore through the air, vanishing into the blue sky in mere seconds.

“Vice Admiral Garp!”

The accompanying sailors were awestruck by such power, calling out the name of their idol in excitement.

“Hahaha...”

Garp just laughed and bent down to pick up a second cannonball.

He was merely warming up.

As a revered and mighty vice admiral, Garp’s usual adversaries were infamous terrors of the sea. Small-time pirates encountered during routine voyages hardly warranted his attention.

But using such encounters as a chance to stretch was Garp’s personal amusement.

A meeting was fate;

A few “Fist Bone Meteors” tossed their way was only his navy duty.

At such distance, only the keen-eyed Garp and a handful of lookouts armed with spyglasses could see the unlucky pirate ship he’d chosen as a target.

Just two hand-thrown cannonballs turned the pirate vessel, flying a ludicrous red-nosed skull flag, into little more than a heap of ruined timber.

Garp, meanwhile, carelessly tossed a third cannonball.

“Alright!”

With a lighthearted laugh, Garp said to the nearby navy major, “Let’s move on.”

Once he’d loosened up, Garp wouldn’t bother to hunt the unfortunate pirates to extinction; their fate now depended on their own resourcefulness.

“Hm?”

Garp’s gaze lingered, his attention fixed on the battered pirate ship in the distance.

“My Fist Bone Meteor... was cut down?”

“What?”

A nearby female naval officer’s face showed shock and disbelief.

She wore her black hair in a neat bob, with plain square glasses. Eschewing the navy uniform for a plaid shirt and slacks, she looked more like the gentle girl next door than a figure of authority, her sweet smile making her seem approachable and kind.

Her only hint of a naval officer’s aura was the finely crafted sword Shigure at her waist.

This was Navy Headquarters Warrant Officer Tashigi, Smoker’s subordinate.

She was a swordswoman for whom blades were as dear as life itself.

Thus, hearing that Vice Admiral Garp’s high-velocity cannonball had been sliced from the sky by an unknown pirate swordsman, Tashigi’s spirits surged with shock and curiosity.

Even to her, Garp’s “Fist Bone Meteor” appeared as nothing but a blur. She knew she’d struggle even to dodge such an attack, let alone cleave it apart.

In that moment, the young officer’s view of the “weakest sea” changed, and she felt a strange admiration for the mysterious swordsman who had cut down the projectile.

To sever a “Fist Bone Meteor” thrown by Vice Admiral Garp—such a feat might well mark the power of a true swordmaster.

And to challenge a swordmaster is the secret desire of every swordsman’s heart.

But as only a warrant officer, Tashigi could contain her excitement and anticipation; the real decision lay with the naval hero Garp.

Garp, too, found his interest piqued by the young swordsman who had intercepted his cannonball.

Unlike Tashigi, Garp’s eagle eyes could clearly make out the situation around Garen.

“Take us over there!” Garp ordered his men, plucking another cannonball from the basket. “Well... let’s give it one more try...”

The previous shot had merely been hurled at the ship, coincidentally striking Garen. This time, Garp aimed precisely at the young “swordmaster” who had cut down his projectile...

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Beside the foundering pirate ship...

Cabaji, Mohji, and Richie had used their familiarity with the vessel to board its only lifeboat.

Buggy’s body parts, save for his feet, had also flown aboard the small boat.

A lifeboat, no matter how small, still counted as a ship: with food, water, and sails, they could escape a fair distance with a favorable wind.

In contrast, Garen and his two companions were in dire straits, huddled together on a piece of splintered timber so cramped that they could barely find footing, liable to be tossed into the sea by the next wave.

This was a classic case of the people’s pressing needs clashing with unbalanced resource distribution, and with his greatsword in hand, Garen was determined to make Buggy, already aboard, understand the principle of the rich leading the poor forward.

“Stay where you are!”

“Let us on the boat too, or my greatsword will show no mercy!”

Garen hoisted Buggy’s detached feet and shouted to those on the lifeboat:

“Buggy! Even if you sail away, can you take your feet with you?”

Buggy’s feet were his weak point; Garen hadn’t dared throw them away even when fending off cannonballs.

Buggy’s brief relief vanished, his expression darkening once more.

“Buggy, don’t even think about escaping!”

Garen’s voice rang out over the sea again: “I don’t believe you’ll get lucky and have another cannonball save you this time!”

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PS: A new week—please send recommendations~