Chapter 5 Garp's Grandson

Satoru had long lost track of the days. Onboard Garp's warship, survival itself had become a challenge. The towering naval officers found great amusement in teasing the baby. While none of them were adept at taking care of children, they were surprisingly skilled at making his life miserable.

"Finally landed! For the first time, I, Garp, felt it was this hard to deal with a kid!" Garp exclaimed, dramatically stretching his arms as the warship docked.

Hearing this, Satoru couldn't help but internally roll his eyes. *You're the difficult one, old man!* As a reincarnated adult in the body of a child, Satoru rarely cried or threw tantrums. His cries were reserved for genuine needs like hunger or nature's call. Yet, despite his quiet demeanor, the navy crew saw him as nothing more than a source of entertainment.

They would pull faces at him, ruffle his hair, or pinch his cheeks. When he responded with a disgusted expression—a natural reaction for someone mentally far older than they realized—they would find even greater delight. Pinching and prodding would only stop once Satoru's face turned red and tears streamed down his cheeks. For the crew, his discomfort was a twisted badge of success.

"Garp is back!"

The moment Garp stepped off the ship, cheers erupted from the dock. The villagers were excited, their respect for the legendary Vice Admiral evident in their enthusiastic welcome.

Immediately, the atmosphere aboard the ship changed. The same rowdy, playful crew straightened their postures, transforming into a disciplined, professional unit. In public, they embodied the ideals of justice and order. In private, however, their behavior betrayed their less-than-noble nature.

"Line up and disembark!" barked Bogard, Garp's ever-loyal assistant.

The soldiers marched down the gangplank in perfect unison, their synchronized steps creating a rhythmic thud. Garp and his officers followed behind, their commanding presence enough to draw the admiration of onlookers.

"Garp, you rascal! You actually remembered to visit us!"

An older man approached Garp with a grin, his familiarity suggesting he was well-acquainted with the naval hero.

"What can I say? It's a hassle asking for leave from headquarters," Garp replied, laughing. "Honestly, I'm the one who visits the most. You don't see Sengoku coming back home, do you? That guy's been away so long, his family might not even recognize him anymore. Be thankful I'm not like that!"

The man, the village chief of Windmill Village, chuckled at Garp's carefree demeanor. Having watched Garp grow up, the chief knew him better than most. The wild, reckless boy of the past had become a naval hero, a transformation that still amazed him.

"Rest for a while, Garp," the chief said warmly. "You've been working hard."

The chief's kind words struck a chord with Garp. While the world hailed him as a hero who had faced down the likes of Roger, the Pirate King, few understood the burdens that came with such a title. Every action, every decision, carried immense pressure. Though he maintained his boisterous facade, age and responsibility had tempered the once-reckless Vice Admiral.

"By the way, chief, I have someone I want you to meet," Garp said suddenly, motioning for Bogard to step forward.

Bogard handed him a bundle—a wide-eyed Satoru.

"Where'd you get this kid? Don't tell me he's from your son, Dragon!" the chief exclaimed, his shock evident.

"Hah! I wish that brat would give me a grandson!" Garp scoffed. "But I don't even know where Dragon is these days. I'm just grateful he's still alive."

Garp's tone shifted slightly, laced with frustration. His relationship with Dragon had been strained ever since his son had abandoned the navy to form the Revolutionary Army. Garp had tried everything to persuade him otherwise, but Dragon's resolve was unshakable.

Realizing he couldn't force Dragon to stay, Garp had reluctantly let him go, even secretly helping him escape during their final confrontation. Now, contact with his son was rare and fraught with difficulty.

"So, who's the kid?" the chief asked.

"I rescued him from a pirate ship," Garp explained. "Couldn't find his family. They're probably gone... so I've decided to adopt him. From now on, he's my grandson!"

The chief looked at Garp in surprise, then nodded with approval. "Still as kindhearted as ever, Garp."

"Ah, but you know my job, chief. I can't take care of a kid with my schedule."

"What are you getting at, Garp?" The chief's expression darkened, a sense of dread creeping over him.

"Well," Garp began with a grin, "I was hoping you could raise him for a few years. When he's older, I'll take him to the navy headquarters and train him to become a proper marine!"

The chief's jaw dropped. "You want me to raise him?"

"Well, yeah. It's not like I can send him to Dadan—she's already got her hands full with Ace. Another kid might drive her crazy!" Garp reasoned.

The chief groaned, realizing he had little choice. "Fine, Garp. But you owe me for this!"

Satoru, observing the exchange, couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation. He was now at the mercy of a chaotic marine hero and a reluctant village elder. Whatever lay ahead, one thing was certain—life in Windmill Village was bound to be interesting.