Buggy D Clown

After hearing Redfield's taunt, Buggy couldn't help but scoff from the shadows, a twisted grin on his face. For all his grim theatrics, the old man had mastered the art of arrogance.

Even Garp, battle-hardened and unshaken by years of war, felt his temper flare. The veins on his temple twitched. His fist clenched.

"Redfield," Garp growled, his voice like rolling thunder, "quit acting so high and mighty. If you're going to talk that big, do it after you beat me!"

The ground shook as a surge of Armament Haki burst from Garp's body, followed by a flood of raw, blazing Conqueror's Haki. The atmosphere twisted violently, cracks forming in the air itself as his presence shot skyward toward the crimson figure floating above.

Boom.

Redfield responded in kind. His own Conqueror's Haki surged forth, rich with age and honed hatred. The sky flashed black and purple as their wills collided mid-air, splitting the clouds and shaking the battlefield to its roots.

Their bodies met an instant later. Fist against blade.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Clang. Clang.

Each strike sent shockwaves through the ruined plains surrounding the ancient city of Depan. Rubble danced in the air. The once-pristine plaza had been reduced to a broken wasteland, its tiles shattered, monuments crumbling under the fallout of gods at war.

Screech—Splat.

A blinding streak tore through the air. Garp let out a breathless grunt as Redfield's sword carved across his chest. Then came the follow-up: a rapid storm of slashes from above.

"Dracul Fang Barrage!"

Dozens of spectral blades rained down, crashing into the crater where Garp landed seconds ago. Explosions lit the battlefield in rhythmic succession.

From the edge of the destruction, the watching forces tensed.

"Is that… the end of him?"

But the assault hadn't stopped. From above, Redfield hovered motionless, a dark mist rising from his skin like smoke from a dying star. And then something changed.

A pulse.

Black mist surged from his spine, coalescing into bat-like wings. His ears lengthened, sharp and pointed. His white hair turned a deep, violent crimson. The upper half of his face became shadowed beneath a jagged, purple mask of energy.

The air screamed as darkness spread across the sky.

"What… is that?" murmured someone from the Marine ranks.

The shadow stretched for over a kilometer. A void blotted out the sun.

"Fufufufu... Ahahahahaha!"

Redfield's laughter rang through the air, his Haki swelling again, stronger than before. Darker.

Sengoku's eyes widened. "It's awakened…"

Voices across the battlefield trembled.

"His Haki grew even stronger? But how?"

"Is this the true potential of a Devil Fruit? What kind of monster fruit is this?!"

Even the faraway Imu frowned, her expression cracking with the slightest twitch. She had ruled from the shadows for centuries, and even she recognized this form.

Mythical Zoan-type Bat-Bat Fruit, Model: Vampire

Immortality. But more than that, awakening. Something not seen for centuries.

Imu narrowed her gaze. "No one has ever unlocked that form before… and now, of all times?" She exhaled softly. "It doesn't matter."

Still high above, Redfield smiled through fangs that hadn't been there moments ago.

"This is what power looks like, Garp."

Down below, the man in question rose from the wreckage. His body bore fresh wounds. His cloak hung in tatters. Blood ran down his side. But his posture remained unshaken.

Sengoku landed beside him. "You alright?"

Garp wiped his lip. "Not bad for an old man."

He stared up at Redfield, eyes glinting.

"You were already at the top with just Haki and swordsmanship," Garp said, voice low. "Now you've got a fruit like that behind you… I'll admit it, fighting you one-on-one's a fool's game."

Sengoku's eyes flicked toward him.

"Garp…"

"Can't help it," Garp muttered. "He has surpassed his peak."

Everyone expected Redfield to mock him.

But instead, the vampire smirked and said calmly, "You know, Garp, if you'd eaten a Devil Fruit… your strength might've rivaled mine." He paused. "Or maybe you never wanted that power."

Garp and Sengoku stiffened.

Redfield's voice grew quiet, almost thoughtful.

"You're telling me a man like you never came across a fruit worth eating? Sengoku, you never thought of awakening your fruit? Or did you both decide long ago to suppress your growth?"

For a moment, the battlefield fell silent.

Redfield narrowed his eyes, voice like a dagger.

"You didn't want more power. You wanted control. Discipline. As if to say Haki alone would be enough." His fangs gleamed. "That was your mistake."

And both old Marines, for a fleeting second, said nothing. Because they knew deep down that Redfield was not wrong.

Considering how many monsters Garp had fought over the years, it was not as if he were unaware. Once a warrior reached the peak of what strength and willpower alone could accomplish, consuming a Devil Fruit suited to their body and spirit was often the only path left to ascend further.

And had Garp taken that step with the right fruit, there was no doubt. At his prime, he could've stood on equal footing with Whitebeard in his peak, maybe even surpassed him.

So why didn't he?

Why, when he had access to strength few could dream of, did he refuse to cross that line?

The question hovered in the minds of many, but in Sengoku's heart, it rang louder than the clash of blades in the sky. He glanced sideways, his face unreadable, and looked toward the distant ridge where a lone figure stood, arms folded, eyes locked on the battlefield.

Dragon.

Their gazes met.

And in that instant, Dragon flinched.

Something in Sengoku's eyes, perhaps regret or guilt, pierced him. Words were unnecessary. That single glance revealed more than any conversation ever could.

The truth sank in. That fruit I ate…

It wasn't meant for me.

It was meant for him.

The realization hit like a thunderclap. Dragon staggered, his mind spinning.

No wonder it had fallen into his hands so effortlessly. There had been no fierce battle, no heavy price. A Mythical Zoan fruit, the Wind-Wind Fruit, Model Fujin, had come to him like a quiet inheritance.

It had always been meant for his father.

But Garp never did. He never once hinted at taking it for himself. Even as the opportunity passed, he remained silent. Even as Dragon turned against the Marines, Garp stood behind him.

Never condemning. Never interfering.

Even at the end… he gave it to me.

The guilt pressed down like a mountain. Memories rushed back of his marine days, his father's laughter, the silent pride he tried to hide, the way he looked at him when he thought no one noticed.

He had wanted to raise a true champion of the Marines.

But neither his son nor his grandson followed that path. One had become the leader of a revolution. The other had become a pirate.

How must that have felt?

Even Garp, always loud, always smiling, must have known heartbreak in the silence of the night.

Dragon opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. On the battlefield below, his father faced death, and he stood powerless.

On the opposite side.

Facing his blood.

His teammates clashed blades with his father.

It was too much.

Then, Garp's laughter rose again. Loud. Defiant.

"Hahaha!"

The old man straightened his spine, blood running down his side, but his eyes gleamed with life.

"You've always been a genius, Redfield. It's easy for someone like you to say I wasted my chance. But me? I'm just a fool who worked hard, pushed my body. Sharpened my fists. I trained Haki and my fists to the limit. Devil Fruits? Not my style."

He raised his fists once more, roaring.

"So don't count me out just yet!"

The ground quaked as a second surge of Conqueror's Haki burst from him, fiercer than before.

Crackling. Roaring. Furious.

Redfield's eyes widened slightly.

Around the battlefield, expressions shifted.

"That's… his Haki grew again?"

"Even now… he's evolving mid-battle?"

It was beyond absurd.

Even Buggy, who had been watching silently, felt his eye twitch.

"Is this guy serious? He's nearly indestructible."

He watched Garp leap back into the sky, fists burning with Haki, face determined despite the cuts across his body.

At this rate, even if Redfield had the edge, there was no clean ending. He couldn't kill Garp. 

And if the fight dragged into tomorrow, Garp would still be standing.

Redfield might win, but not without cost. And not without affecting the war.

And there was something else.

Buggy's gaze flicked toward Dragon.

Just now, when Redfield struck Garp with that combo, Dragon's body trembled. When Redfield questioned Garp's refusal of a Devil Fruit, Dragon's hands clenched.

Buggy wasn't the smartest man in the world.

But he wasn't a fool either. He connected the dots quickly.

That Devil Fruit Dragon ate… it must've been Garp's originally.

A father's gift or sacrifice.

Now, watching his father get battered in front of his eyes, Dragon could only stand still, unable to help.

Buggy sighed.

He raised a hand, touching the small Den Den Mushi clipped to his coat.

"Redfield," he spoke quietly into the receiver, "wrap it up. Send Garp away. Or seal him off. Give Dragon some dignity. This isn't about Marines and pirates. We came here to take down the Celestial Dragons. We're not here to shatter what's left of a man's ideals."

Redfield's voice came back without hesitation.

"Alright. You people really are sentimental."

There was a pause. "But forget the sealing space. That old man would break it in five minutes. And I've got good stuff in there."

He chuckled.

"I'll teleport him. One-way trip. Just Garp."

Buggy nodded, shoulders relaxing slightly.

He whispered, "Thanks."

Although Redfield was mildly surprised that Buggy could use sound transmission through Observation Haki, the feeling passed quickly. After all, Buggy had changed. This was no longer the blundering clown who once stumbled behind legends. He had become something else entirely.

"Fine," Redfield replied flatly.

Buggy gave a faint smile.

As he communicated, Redfield surged through the air, his body streaked with black tail flame, cutting through the clouds like a living meteor. He raised his voice as he charged.

"Garp, I told you, you are not my equal!"

"Hmph! Let's talk after you beat me!" Garp bellowed back.

Without hesitation, the Marine Hero launched forward. His fist gleamed with a blend of Conqueror's and the deepest shade of Armament Haki, a swirling storm of godlike will compressed into a single strike.

Crash!

But this time, Redfield did not meet him head-on. Instead, his bat wings spread wide with a snap, and ten shadows erupted from behind him like phantom spears.

Before Garp could process what was happening, the shadows converged. A black spiral vortex bloomed in midair before him, pulsing with unnatural force.

"What the...f*ck?"

Too late.

Momentum carried him forward. Garp plunged into the vortex before he could pull back.

Scoff!

The air hissed as the dark portal sealed shut in a blink, swallowing his form. Garp's presence vanished from the battlefield completely.

The sky was silent for a heartbeat.

Then the gasps began.

From the ranks of Marines and pirates to the living rooms and dens across the world where the live broadcast streamed, millions froze, stunned.

Had Garp… been erased?

"Did that just..."

"Where did he go?"

"Was he… killed?"

Even the commanders of the World Government shifted uneasily. To them, Garp was a mountain that never fell. Now, he had simply vanished.

"Dad!!!"

A cry tore through the air.

In a flash of azure wind, Dragon appeared beside Redfield, his body crackling with the tempestuous aura of the Wind-Wind Fruit, Model: Fujin. The storm coiled around him like a living force, his presence warping the air itself. His face, usually composed and unreadable, now burned with a mixture of fury and rising dread.

The sky crackled as his pressure collided with Redfield's.

For a moment, the heavens froze.

Every warrior present felt the weight of their clash. It wasn't just two powers colliding. It was personal.

Everyone stared in disbelief.

Buggy Pirates… fighting each other?

No, something was wrong.

Wait. What had Dragon just shouted?

Dad?

A shiver ran through the battlefield. Dragon… called Garp dad?

No way.

The most wanted man in the world, the leader of the Revolutionary Army, just revealed that he was the son of the Marine Hero?

The information hit like a tidal wave. The spectators watching across the globe reeled. Soldiers on both sides exchanged bewildered glances.

And then came the final blow.

If Dragon was Garp's son… and Luffy was Dragon's son…

Then…

Monkey D. Luffy, one of the new Four Emperors, was the grandson of the Marine Hero and the son of the Revolutionary Leader.

The truth settled in like an earthquake.

Hero of the Marines. Leader of the Revolution. Emperor of the Sea.

One family.

The strongest grandfather. The most dangerous father. The wildest son.

An entire lineage stands at the top of three different worlds.

Gasps echoed through the air.

No family on this sea… could compare.

Not the Celestial Dragons. Not the Charlotte family. Not even the Rocks remnants.

The strongest family in the world… had been right in front of them all along.

Buggy crossed his arms and let out a long sigh.

"Now you see why I told you not to mess with Garp too hard," he muttered.

Even now, Redfield didn't lower his blade. His expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes.

"You rushed here pretty fast, Dragon. So, how does it feel… seeing your father disappear right in front of you?"

Dragon's eyes flared.

"Where did you send him?" he demanded.

Redfield's answer came in a low tone.

"Somewhere far away. He's not dead, if that's what you're worried about."

The tension in Dragon's shoulders eased slightly, but his fists remained clenched.

"You better hope he isn't."

Buggy stepped forward, raising his hand.

"Enough. This wasn't an attack. It was to spare him."

Dragon didn't speak, but he turned his face to the side, gaze heavy with a mix of relief and regret.

Buggy continued, "We're not here to crush old men. We're here to bring down the World Nobles. Keep your eyes on the real enemy."

The wind howled across the blood-soaked battlefield.

And the world held its breath.

---

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