I'm at the top of One Piece

“Old man, I have a son now, and you have a grandson. As you know, my current situation isn’t suitable for taking care of him. You should raise him.”

Garp's eyes widened suddenly, his mouth gaped open, and after several seconds of stunned silence, he uttered a trembling sentence:

"Really my grandson? You little bastard, you're not lying to me. You think any woman would like you? What woman would be blind?"

The voice on the other end became somewhat suppressed, as if it was accumulating anger: "Give me a straight answer, whether you want it or not. If you don't want it, I guarantee you'll never see him again in your life."

Garp clicked his tongue and said, "Time and place, just say it. Since he's my grandson, I can't let you fool me anymore."

"You know that little island that takes a day to sail from Water 7 to Enies Lobby, close to the Calm Belt? We met there ten days later, and then I was gone."

Click!

Garp glared at the Den Den Mushi, holding the receiver in his hand, and cursed, "You damn thing."

He cursed, then turned to look at Moses, who was quietly listening.

"Isn't that right? What kind of person is he? He can't even ask for help properly. If he weren't my son, he would be so good at hiding. I would break his legs."

"You'll see him in ten days. We'll talk then. If you want to break his leg, that day will be a good opportunity. Right, old man?"

"what"

As soon as he finished speaking, Mercer covered his head, tears welling up in his eyes from the pain, feeling as if his brain was throbbing.

"You bastard, do you want to kill me?"

Karp sneered, "That woman, Doriel, isn't here. Think carefully before you speak. What are you going to call me?"

Moses: "."

"I was wrong, Grandpa. You're the best. I'm weak and can't take your beating. You should save your strength for your son."

Mercer, being a good boy, doesn't suffer losses easily; he's quick to act on his impulses.

Garp: "?"

He paused for two seconds, then burst into laughter.

"Pfft, Mercer, are you trying to make me laugh to death? You're weak? Do you think I'm stupid? Your aura may be strange, but your physical condition doesn't seem like that of a child."

As Garp said this, a look of surprise flashed in his eyes. As expected of that guy's son, he was even more of a monster than that little Ace.

In terms of physical fitness, he's even stronger than that bastard who just made the phone call. Thinking of this, Garp narrowed his eyes. "Mese, do you want to get stronger? If so, Grandpa will teach you."

Looking into Garp's eyes, Mercer felt a chill run down her spine, sensing that he had ulterior motives.

He quickly shook his head.

"I'm physically weak, and I'm afraid I won't be able to handle exercising now."

"Is this never going to end?" Garp's eye twitched. "If you say you're weak again, do you believe I'll give you a full-body massage right now?"

"Then forget it. My body isn't as weak as I say. Doctor Dori has been using medicinal cuisine to help me get better all these years."

"Well... never mind, let's talk about it in a couple of years. I was just too impatient."

Moses said "Oh," and quickly changed the subject, "Grandpa, the person on the other end of the phone just now said you have a grandson. Are you happy?"

"You bastard, aren't you my grandson? What do you mean by that?" Garp frowned, looking at Moses with hostility. "Listen carefully, you are my grandson, and that's a fact that no one can change. Don't you dare speak to me like that again."

You're very smart. I know you've already figured out we're not related by blood, but remember, you are my grandson.

Moses's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Tch, you two brothers are the same. As soon as Ace could remember, he noticed the problem. He asked me why his name was Portgas D. Ace and my name was Monkey D. Garp. He asked me why our surnames were different, who his biological parents were, and whether they were still alive."

I didn't tell him directly, I just told him we'd talk about it together when you arrived, so that kid was even more excited about your arrival.

"You're even more mature than Ace; if he could spot it, I don't believe you couldn't. Grandpa's also curious, why don't you ever ask?"

Mercer listened quietly to Garp's explanation. As for the reason, well, he knew everything, but he couldn't say it outright.

then.

“I’ve been doing well, both before and now, so it doesn’t matter whether I know or not. Since it’s nothing now, there’s no need to ask anymore. But since you said we’d talk about it when we’re together, there’s no need for me to ask now. I’ll know when the time comes.”

After saying that, Moses patted his cheeks and looked at Garp with a grin: "Master, let's not talk about those things anymore. Let's talk about how you're going to deal with your son."

Judging from what you just said, it seems he's having some difficulties, you two have fallen out, and you're still quite unhappy with him.

"How about I come with you then? You can leave the grandson with me, and then you can go and beat up the son."

Garp nodded repeatedly, but then looked at Messer with a subtle expression.

"You little brat, were you just taking advantage of me? Take this!"

The next moment, Garp's fist landed on Mercer's head.

Messer dodged, even using his Observation Haki, but even after retreating some distance, he was still hit on the head by Garp's suddenly extended arm.

Mercer leaned back on the sofa, looking exhausted and unwilling, while Garp laughed.

He had a big smile on his face.

Eating, sleeping, and beating up your grandson—this isn't a bad life.

It is beneficial to physical and mental health.

"Want some snacks? I'll have the ship's cook make some for you."

"A glass of apple juice, three pounds of roast meat, a plate of French fries, and some dried fruit, please."

Kap chuckled and said:

"You're dreaming! I'd like to eat those things too, but we don't have any. We only have dried sweet potato chips. Can I have those?"

Moses sighed.

"Eat."

Karp took out two bags of sweet potato chips from the bedside table, and also poured two cups of tea and water. They each took a bag and sat on the sofa, eating and drinking.

Garp went out for a while, and then Mercer noticed that the warship had changed course and was speeding off in another direction with the help of the ocean current.

……

As time passed, the warships passed through several islands, stopping at several bustling island ports for resupply.

A week later, on the clear blue sea.

Sunny weather.

deck.

Mercer sat astride the wooden dog head at the bow of the ship, watching with great interest the marines practicing on the deck, all in pairs, fighting each other.

"Ha! A block of iron!"

Finger gun!

"Paper drawing. Damn it, don't hit me in the face."

"Moonwalk".

*Thump, thud.*

Thump thump thump thump. Swoosh swoosh slap slap slap.

The rhythmic impact of the blows, the powerful punches and kicks, the enthusiastic shouts, and the sweat pouring down under the sun.

A crimson light gleamed deep within Moses' eyes as he sensed the workings of their blood, muscles, and bones through their clothing.

For seven consecutive days,

Every day when they begin their training, Moses would appear in various places on the ship to watch them "perform" in his eyes.

Because he's a kid, even if he's not a Marine, no one will bother to drive Moses away.

Of course, Messer knew that this was not only related to the atmosphere on Garp's ship, but also to the fact that he called Garp "Master".

After all, the "Naval Six Styles," a unique and systematic training technique that unlocks human potential, is not something that can be taught casually.

Those who were able to receive instruction were all non-commissioned officers with a certain military rank.

Or perhaps they are the brilliant recruits in the Navy Headquarters' recruit training camp.

Self-taught methods don't count.

In the past few days, apart from shaving, a skill that is not easy to use on the ship, the other five techniques have been completely learned by Moses.

Six Techniques

Only three skills are worth learning: iron blocks, paper drawing, and moon walking. The other three are just derivative products.

Although he learned the cultivation method in just one day, Messer did not immediately stop watching, but continued to observe them carefully.

Learn from their shortcomings.

Understand the key points of cultivation.

In the top deck, Garp and Bogart looked down at the marines below, and of course, noticed Moses on the bow.

Bogart laughed and said, "Lieutenant General Garp, aren't you going to do anything about your grandson? Others may not know, but we do. He's been practicing the Six Styles of Observation Haki for a week now, and he's going to have it all stolen."

Garp said indifferently, "He thinks he can learn the Six Powers? You're dreaming. Learning the Six Powers requires a solid physical foundation. Moses isn't ready yet."

"Then, what about paper drawing?" Bogart said, "Paper drawing doesn't particularly require physical strength to support it. That kid knows Observation Haki, and he might have already mastered it by now."

Karp's expression stiffened, but he quickly curled his lip. "So what if he learned it? We didn't teach him. He's just smart. What? You want to stop someone from being smart?"

Bogart looked at Karp with a speechless and helpless expression, feeling like he was talking to a brick wall, and quite certain that his unreliable boss was pretending to be stupid.

"Tch, if you don't care, I don't care either. He's your grandson, not mine. If anything goes wrong, it won't be my problem. Whatever!"

Watching Bogart storm out of the room in a huff, Garp smiled, then narrowed his eyes as he watched Mercer openly stealing lessons.

"Since you can learn on your own merit, why should I stop you? Learn as much as you can, that's your skill."

And from time to time, Garp would personally step in to correct some of the Marines' shortcomings.

The marines were all deeply moved and cried out in delight.

His enthusiasm for spiritual practice was once very high.

It was approaching evening.

The warships were docked in a remote part of the port on an island.