Chapter Eighty-Eight: A Deceptive Gun Is No Toy

Laughter rang out over the fair-weather sea as Garp burst into a booming guffaw.

Smack!

The sound was Garp’s heavy palm landing on someone’s shoulder.

“Kuzan, you really are something. You got on board without even knowing where we’re headed—wahahaha!”

Smack!

Another punishing blow on the shoulder.

Aokiji endured Garp’s repeated slaps in silence, managing only a wry smile.

When Garp finally stopped, Aokiji rubbed his shoulder and asked, “So what are we going to do in the West Sea?”

“Oh, just paying an old acquaintance a visit,” Garp said carelessly.

“An old acquaintance? I thought we were heading for the East Sea.”

“Hah!”

Garp slapped Aokiji again, then grew serious. “This time is different.”

“Different?”

A flicker of curiosity appeared in Aokiji’s eyes.

Slowly, Garp’s grin faded. “The old acquaintance I’m going to see this time is Trick Gun.”

Aokiji fell silent for a long moment, then said in surprise, “Trick Gun? You mean the Trick Gun from Roger’s crew?”

“Who else would it be?” Garp looked at him strangely, as if the question were unnecessary.

Aokiji was silent again. His gaze swept the area before finally settling on Garp’s aide not far away.

“Bogart, have you seen my bicycle?”

“No.”

Bogart, wearing a hat, shook his head.

Aokiji scratched the back of his head at the answer, rose quietly, then bent down to fold up the deck chair and leave the windborne ship.

Smack!

Yet another heavy blow to his shoulder from Garp.

Aokiji looked up, only to meet Garp’s shamelessly carefree smile.

“Kuzan, the West Sea is a lot of fun.”

“But the Trick Gun you’re going to see sure isn’t,” Aokiji said with a faint sigh.

Garp withdrew his hand, picked at his nose, and said without a care, “I’m not asking you to do anything. Just stay out of the way.”

“That expression… isn’t quite right here, but I guess I’ll just stay out of the way,” Aokiji said, reaching once more for the deck chair.

Smack!

Again, Garp’s shoulder strike.

This time, Garp casually slapped the booger he’d picked out onto Aokiji’s shoulder, then withdrew his hand.

“Since you’re already here, stay for dinner before you go.”

“...”

Aokiji glanced wordlessly at the booger on his shoulder. First he froze it with his power, then flicked it away with a finger.

He knew what sort of enemy Trick Gun was, and he understood perfectly why Garp wanted him to stay.

Well then...

Seeing how old warriors fought in the era before his time would not be a waste.

Aokiji lay back down on the deck chair.

Garp grinned and, with the same hand he’d just used to pick his nose, took a senbei cracker and held it up before Aokiji’s face.

“Have a senbei.”

“...”

Aokiji silently put on his sleep mask and chose, out of sight, out of mind.

Garp didn’t care and popped the cracker into his mouth.

He could handle Trick Gun by himself, so Aokiji’s strength wasn’t needed at all.

Still, since Aokiji had come aboard, he might as well remain for now.

As for the battle itself, even if Garp had to swallow his pride, he couldn’t bring himself to ask a vacationing Aokiji to fight.

But with Aokiji here, at the very least, he could place a protective talisman over his own men.

Having crossed paths with Roger’s crew many times, Garp knew very well how troublesome Trick Gun was.

First, mobility. Second, the means of killing.

In a fight, you couldn’t catch Trick Gun.

You could defend against him, yes, but that didn’t matter if he chose to pick off your allies.

At times it was maddening beyond words, yet there was nothing you could do against him.

In many close engagements, Trick Gun had been the first to strike from afar, relieving the pressure on Roger’s crew at the front.

What was most exasperating was that when many comrades were struck by a single shot, they did not even know where the bullet had come from, much less who had pulled the trigger.

And in battle, most people’s attention naturally went only to the likes of Roger or Whitebeard—enemies who radiated overwhelming presence in direct combat.

So when the fighting grew fiercer, the sniper’s presence became thinner and thinner, invisibly reducing the enemy’s numbers at speed.

Indeed, merely being aware of a sniper’s existence would quietly add to one’s psychological burden.

That was the true horror of Trick Gun.

That man had no interest in fame whatsoever; from beginning to end, he perfectly fulfilled his duty, supporting his companions from the rear in silence.

In the later years of Garp’s career, he never encountered a second Trick Gun.

If forced to name one, the only thing that came close was the shadow of Trick Gun seen among the Red-Haired Pirates, one of the present Four Emperors.

Perhaps because Red-Haired Shanks had come from Roger’s crew, the Red-Haired Pirates’ core ranks included many gunmen worthy of caution.

Garp lifted his gaze to the blue sky and white clouds.

“This time, I won’t let you get away.”

...

West Sea, Marine Branch 158.

The indoor training hall was fully equipped and alive with thunderous activity.

“Ha!”

“Ha!”

“Ha!”

The Marines drilling in formation displayed an enthusiasm unlike usual.

Even though the training had already exceeded the limits, even though sweat soaked every inch of their bodies, they felt no fatigue at all.

What was going on?

During the breaks in training, the Marines would keep stealing glances toward Gion, who was likewise drenched in sweat not far away.

In the air lingered a spirit-lifting fragrance.

And the source of that fragrance was Gion, a woman they considered nothing short of perfect.

Sweat-drenched and radiant...

A phrase used to praise women rose without exception in every Marine’s mind.

It was precisely that jasmine-like scent emanating from Gion that had driven them to complete today’s training without tiring.

No, they had gone beyond completion.

Just to remain one second longer, or rather to see Gion one second more,

they had already begun a second round of training.

Ignoring the admiring gazes from all around, Gion focused on completing every movement in training.

Normally, she would not have come to the training grounds at this hour.

But today she had received word that Garp was already on his way.

On the eve of the expedition to Mad Hatter Town to eliminate Trick Gun, she could no longer contain herself and had come to the training grounds on a whim.

While using her power, she had naturally influenced the other Marines in the training hall as well.

At one corner of the training ground,

Colonel Robby, who had been transferred here from Marine Headquarters, was also present.

The matter of the Platinum Chamber of Commerce had already been dealt with, but he was in no hurry to return to Headquarters.

And the reason, of course, was Gion.

He watched her with a smile, his face overflowing with undisguised infatuation.

Beside Robby, a Marine lieutenant colonel from the branch lowered his voice and said, “The fragrance coming from General Gion...”

“Gion’s popularity is not because of that alone,” Robby cut in, glancing at him.

The lieutenant colonel stammered, “I only...”

Before he could finish, Robby interrupted again.

“Oh, that’s the power of a Devil Fruit.”