At The Peak of One Piece

Victor followed the guard to a modest courtyard—Garp's residence. 

No grand mansion, no opulent decor. Just a simple two-story house with a small lawn and low-maintenance flowers along the fence. 

"The 'Hero of the Marines' lives like this? If no one pointed it out, you'd think this was some retired fisherman's home." 

"Vice Admiral Garp! I brought food! Get your table ready—it's delicious!" Victor bellowed from the yard. 

Garp's laughter boomed from inside. "Hahaha! Knew you wouldn't come empty-handed!" 

Then, to someone unseen: "Sengoku! Move that table out here, or no meat for you!" 

A grumbling voice fired back: "You bastard! Next time you visit my office, no senbei for YOU!" 

'Sengoku's here too?' Victor blinked. In all his time at Marineford, he'd never seen the Fleet Admiral-in-waiting. 

Garp wasted no time, snatching one of the massive Sea King ribs from Victor's haul and tearing into it like a starved wolf. 

Sengoku emerged moments later, hefting a wooden table with visible irritation. When he saw Garp already eating, his eye twitched. He promptly stole the second rib from Victor and began gnawing on it with enough force to suggest the bone was Garp's neck. 

'These two…' Victor sighed internally, setting the roasted boar on the table before fetching chairs. 

For ten minutes, he watched in silent amusement as the legendary Marines engaged in a competitive meat-devouring contest—complete with primal grunts and sauce-smeared faces. 

Finally, the last shreds of flesh vanished. Twin bellows of laughter shook the courtyard. 

Then, four eyes locked onto Victor. 

The pressure was palpable. 

"So," Victor began diplomatically, "how was the food?" 

Garp grinned, flecks of meat still in his teeth. "Good enough to be my personal chef! Join my ship!" 

Sengoku wiped his hands. "That was the best meal I've had in years. You're Victor, right? Zephyr's obsessed with recruiting you. Any idea why this old fool keeps blocking it?" He jabbed a thumb at Garp. 

Victor stayed neutral. "I trust Vice Admiral Garp has his reasons. I train fine on my own—and consult Zephyr when needed." 

Garp's patience evaporated. "Enough dancing! What do you WANT?" 

Victor coughed. "Well… it's awkward with Fleet Admiral Sengoku here—" 

"SPIT IT OUT," Garp roared. "I decide what I can or can't do!" 

Sengoku rolled his eyes but nodded for Victor to continue. 

"I need intel on 'Eternal Black Gold.' For swords." Victor laid out his plan to forge blades surpassing even Supreme Grades. 

Garp's eyes lit up. "Why not just steal a named blade from pirates? I'll help!" 

"No." Victor's voice sharpened. "My path is different. I'll create what doesn't exist yet." 

A beat of silence. 

Then Sengoku waved a hand. "Consider it done. I'll have Intelligence flag any mentions." 

Victor bowed. "My thanks. I'll take my leave—Fleet Admiral, you're welcome at my cabin anytime." 

As he turned to go, Garp called after him: 

"Train hard, brat! I'll be 'checking' on you!" 

The grin in his voice made Victor's spine tingle. 

'Something terrible is coming.' 

--- 

Later, Marineford Streets 

Victor merged into the nightlife—taverns overflowing with rowdy Marines, the eternal stench of booze and sea salt thick in the air. 

His mind raced. 'Sabaody's black market is my next stop. Double the sources, double the chances.' 

Beneath his clothes, Armament Haki thrummed continuously. 

Every second of exertion expanded his limits. 

Every step forward was a step toward the unimaginable heights awaiting him. 

---

If you can, support me on pa treon:

Pa treon. com/ RightTranslations (No spaces)

Up to 50 chapters ahead.

You can also support by leaving a review