Pirates: Seeing My Proficiency, I Became a Legend

After the battle, the deserted island had completely sunk beneath the raging sea. The once solid ground was no more, swallowed by the ocean's fury. Yet, even as the waves calmed and the winds faded into nothingness, a lingering sword intent still haunted the air—a silent testament to the clash that had just unfolded.

A hundred and twenty miles away, on another remote island, Dongze and Garp sat on a jagged reef, staring out at the endless horizon.

For Dongze, fighting this old man had been an ordeal. Does he always start conversations with his fists? If Garp had simply spoken from the beginning instead of charging in with that monstrous "Fist Bone! Broken Star!", they could have avoided sinking an entire island. But no—Garp, in his infinite wisdom, had decided to convince him with reason—except his reason was brute force.

"Hey, old man," Dongze finally spoke, breaking the silence. "Do you have any dreams?"

Garp, caught off guard by the question, paused. "Dream?" He muttered the word, as if it carried an old, familiar weight. His eyes darkened with memory. "Hmph. I remember someone always talking about that."

"Roger?" Dongze asked knowingly.

Garp exhaled sharply, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That's right. That lunatic who threw the whole world into chaos." His voice held no malice, only a begrudging admiration. "But as much as I hated what he stood for, I can't deny it—he was a real hero."

Dongze nodded, letting Garp's words settle before asking again, "And you? What do you dream of?"

The old marine's gaze drifted to the horizon. "The old man?" He chuckled. "Naturally, I want to end this era of chaos. I want to bring peace to the seas…"

Dongze tilted his head slightly. That's not all, is it?

Garp sighed. "Of course, there's more to it. But some things…" His expression hardened. "Some things, I won't say out loud."

A sharp glint appeared in Dongze's eyes. "The Celestial Dragons?"

Garp's hand clenched into a fist. "You brat…" Before Dongze could react, a fist crashed down on his skull.

BOOM!

Dongze nearly blacked out. "YOU CRAZY OLD MAN! Who the hell punches someone with Haki just for talking?!"

"Hmph! That's my Fist of Love!" Garp grinned, flexing his fist, the faint black shimmer of Armament Haki still coating it.

"I swear to the heavens—! That's not love, that's attempted murder!" Dongze groaned, rubbing his head. If this geezer was this ruthless with his own grandson, I shouldn't have expected mercy…

But before he could continue complaining, Garp changed the subject. "Alright, brat, you asked me—now what about you? What's your dream?"

Dongze blinked. "Me?"

Garp nodded.

Dongze closed his eyes for a moment. Then, gripping the hilt of Wangchen, he said, "Old man… do you know what lies at the end of the sword?"

Garp frowned. "Hah! I ain't no swordsman. Why the hell would I know that?"

"Then what about the end of martial arts?" Dongze pressed.

For once, Garp was silent.

He was a master of hand-to-hand combat, a legendary marine hero, and one of the strongest men alive. But… the end of martial arts?

No. He had never reached it.

"I've never thought about it like that," Garp admitted.

Dongze smiled faintly. "For me, training is its own reward. Every step forward, every small breakthrough—it fuels me, drives me. I don't seek power for power's sake. I don't care about titles like 'the world's strongest.'" His gaze sharpened. "I just want to see what's at the very end of this path."

Garp burst out laughing. "Hah! Brat, that's the first time I've heard a swordsman say something like that! You're right—my physical strength is unmatched, but even I haven't reached the end."

Then, a nostalgic look crossed his face. "But your dream… it's even harder than Roger's."

Dongze raised an eyebrow. "Harder than becoming Pirate King?"

Garp nodded. "Yeah! But the world didn't think it was possible either, and in the end… that fool actually conquered the sea." He sighed, shaking his head. "Hah. What a lunatic."

Dongze smirked. He glanced at Garp—his carefree, grinning face. If only he knew what his grandson would do one day.

"Actually," Dongze said, "I've met Monkey D. Dragon before."

Garp's expression immediately changed. His carefree demeanor vanished in an instant. "That man?" His voice was low and serious. "When did you see him?"

"A long time ago." Dongze exhaled. "He's… an incredible man."

Garp grumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. "Hmph! He's just a damn fool who doesn't know his place." But despite his words, there was no true anger in them.

"Listen, brat." Garp's tone shifted, heavier than before. "The World Government is more dangerous than you realize. Don't let that bastard Dragon drag you onto his ship of criminals."

Dongze chuckled. Typical Garp—punch first, lecture later.

But in truth, Garp was already aware of how corrupt the government was. He knew, but his position as a marine… his personal ideals… they left him bound to the system.

He could oppose it, but he could never leave it.

"…By the way," Garp said suddenly, breaking the heavy mood, "your swordsmanship. It's weird. What exactly is it?"

Dongze smiled. He reached for Wangchen, drawing the double-edged blade and handing it to Garp.

The old marine blinked. "What're you—"

"Look closely," Dongze said. "What's different about my weapon?"

Garp studied the sword. His eyes narrowed. Then—

"…I see. Unlike the famous Supreme Grade Blades or Great Grade Swords, yours is double-edged. Every legendary sword I've seen—be it Roger's Ace, Mihawk's Yoru, or even Zoro's Enma—they all have a single-edged design for precision."

"But yours… this is pure offense. No room for defense."

Dongze nodded. "Exactly. This sword embodies pure destruction."

Garp was silent for a long time. Then, he muttered, "I see. And that strange technique you used…?"

Dongze smirked. "That," he said, "is called Sword Intent."

"Sword Intent?"

"It's a manifestation of will," Dongze explained. "Like how your Conqueror's Haki allows you to dominate, Sword Intent is the will of the blade itself."

Garp exhaled. His gaze drifted back to the sword.

"…Heh," he chuckled after a moment. "Heaven really does favor geniuses." He shook his head, a rare glint of respect in his eyes.

"Maybe," he muttered, "maybe you really will reach the end of the blade."

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