Chapter 110 - Encounter at sea
"Shouldn't we stay and see what happens now that they don't have a ruler?" Yoruichi inquired, her eyes scanning the ethereal realm of the clouds as Iron Whiskers began to sail downward, gliding seamlessly through the misty formations as if they held no substance.
"Nope. They'll elect a new ruler or figure out their own system, and take care of business. We don't have responsibility for them; they are grown people," Ryu replied nonchalantly as he felt the cool, misty, clouds envelop him.
"...I suppose that's true," Yoruichi conceded, her gaze lingering on the now-distant cloud island. The two continued their descent, cutting through layers of clouds, revealing glimpses of the world below. The sunlight refracted through the moist vapor, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow around them.
As they descended further, the once-thick clouds began to dissipate, revealing the vast expanse of the Blue Sea below. Iron Whiskers gracefully touched the water's surface, sending ripples outward as it resumed its course upon the familiar waves.
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"Ship ahead!" The lookout Shinobi's voice echoed throughout Iron Whiskers, snapping the crew to attention.
Ryu squinted his eyes as the looming shape on the horizon grew closer, his curiosity piqued by the unusual sight. The battleship, which gradually unveiled itself to Ryu, seemed to be a leviathan of the sea, casting a large, imposing shadow on the water's surface. The hull, a robust combination of greenish-blue planks and reinforced iron frames, seemed like it could withstand the most ferocious of storms and enemy fire.
Ryu's eyes scanned the deck, noting an impressive assortment of cannons of various calibers, their barrels gleaming menacingly in the sunlight.
What struck Ryu the most, though, was the peculiar dog theme that infused the entire vessel. It was an unusual choice, and yet it seemed to create a striking harmony between the ship's deadly purpose and a whimsical, almost playful, aesthetic.
The crow's nests, perched high above the deck like watchful sentinels, were fashioned to resemble dog houses and provided an aerial view of the surrounding waters.
As the ship drew nearer, Ryu noticed the figurehead of the vessel, a masterfully carved Tibetan mastiff dog's head that appeared to be frozen in a rather goofy moment. The mastiff's teeth clenched a bone while its tongue lolled out of its mouth.
Ryu's gaze drifted upwards to the numerous sails that billowed in the wind, a dance of fabric and air. The mastheads, shaped like bones and adorned with dog paws at each end, provided an unusual silhouette against the sky. The sails themselves were a work of art, expertly crafted and emblazoned with marine markings. Ryu noted the prominent HQ-03 on the first sail, which he assumed to be the ship's identifying number.
As the warship neared Ryu's vessel, the distance between the two ships closed to about two hundred meters.
Suddenly, a figure leaped from the deck of the warship, soaring through the air with supernatural agility. Ryu's eyes flashed with amusement as the figure descended, landing with a powerful thud on Iron Whiskers' deck. The impact reverberated throughout the ship, sending shudders through the hull.
The man who now stood before Ryu was an imposing sight. He was clearly advanced in years, but his physique spoke of a lifetime of strength and resilience. His muscles were bulky and well-defined, even through his clothes. He stood tall and confident, with the air of someone who had seen countless battles and lived to tell the tale.
The man wore a long-sleeved, crisp white buttoned shirt with a prominent V-neck that exposed a navy-blue undershirt and a turquoise tie knotted securely at his collar. The tie seemed to contrast with the man's rugged demeanor, yet it added a certain refinement to his overall appearance.
The white shirt, though not tight, clung just enough to hint at the powerful muscles that lay beneath. It was tucked neatly into a pair of white pants that draped over the man's muscular legs.
On his feet, the old man wore a pair of spotless white shoes that seemed impregnable to the dirt and grime of the ship's deck. The shoes were a perfect match for the rest of his ensemble, completing the look with an air of polished professionalism.
The most striking aspect of his outfit, however, was the Marine coat draped over his broad shoulders like a cape. The coat's empty sleeves swayed gently in the wind, their red and black touches at the sleeve's end serving to enhance the man's appearance. Similarly, the coat's red and gold shoulder pads added a touch of color and grandeur to the man's attire, highlighting his rank and status within the Marine forces.
The sunlight seemed to catch and reflect off the man's uniform, casting a radiant aura around him that only served to emphasize his formidable presence.
"Are you another Admiral?" Ryu asked playfully as the man showed a wide grin.
"You wish. You're the brat that knows where Pluton is, right? How about you come with me and we'll have a nice chat about it?" The man with his own jovial tone.
"Tell you what. If you can knock out just one of my crew members I'll go with you, old man. By the way, what's your name?" Ryu asked. He could tell this was about to be fun.
"Bwahaha, the name's Garp. Are you sure that's all I need to do? I heard you beat Kizaru, I don't want to go back without having some fun," Garp laughed as he clenched his fists.
"Oh, you'll have some fun, alright. You there, kick his ass," Ryu said while pointing at random Shinobi. Of course, not without transforming him to contain Garp's skills that he got with Rikai.
'Don't hurt his ego too much,' Ryu signaled to the Shinobi through telepathy magic, receiving an affirmative nod in return.
The Shinobi Ryu called fourth appeared in front of Garp, who smiled wildly as his eyes examined his opponent. Though it was just a gut feeling, Garp knew that the man before him wasn't just another weakling.
The salty sea air filled the nostrils of the two fighters as they stood facing each other. Garp flexed his powerful muscles and cracked his knuckles blackened, the anticipation building within him. The Shinobi showed a rare smirk of excitement as it silently got ready in a combat stance.
With a swift movement, Garp lunged forward, his fist rocketing toward his opponent's face like a cannonball. The Shinobi effortlessly sidestepped the attack, his body shifting like a wisp of smoke, and responded with a rapid flurry of jabs aimed at Garp's midsection. Garp, however, was prepared. He tensed his abdominal muscles and absorbed the blows, his powerful frame undeterred.
The Shinobi, noticing a brief opening in Garp's defenses, launched a palm strike aimed at Garp's chest. Garp, however, skillfully shifted his body to the side, causing the strikes to graze past him. The sheer force of the missed attacks created a gust of wind so powerful that it sent ripples through the water, toppling barrels and crates on the deck.
Garp responded with a powerful roundhouse kick, which sent the Shinobi hurling back, crashing against Iron Whiskers' mast with a resounding boom.
"I'll be damned, the bastard's not bad. Is everyone in your crew like that," Garp asked as he turned to Ryu, whose prideful smile gave a clear answer.
"Yup. You should probably pay attention to the fight, though," Ryu said as the Shinobi charged back at Garp with blinding speed.
The two warriors moved at breakneck speeds, their bodies appearing as blurs to the untrained eye. They exchanged a series of kicks and punches, their respective martial arts styles weaving together in a mesmerizing dance of power and precision. Garp's iron fist connected with the Shinobi's face, sending him staggering backward. But he quickly recovered, returning an abdomen shot of his own.
The Shinobi leaped into the air, executing a spinning heel kick aimed at Garp's temple. Garp ducked, feeling the rush of air as the kick narrowly missed its target. He retaliated with an uppercut that landed squarely on the Shinobi's jaw, lifting him off the ground. The Shinobi, however, twisted his body mid-air and landed gracefully, his feet sliding across the ship's wooden deck.
The Shinobi pushed Garp back with a powerful front kick and quickly followed with a brutal flying knee strike to the ribs. Garp grunted in pain but immediately retaliated by grabbing the Shinobi's attacking leg and pulling him off balance. Garp then swung his free arm in a wide arc, his fist connecting with the Shinobi's torso and launching him across Iron Whiskers' deck. The Shinobi slid on the wet wooden surface, managing to halt his momentum just before crashing into the ship's railing.
The two warriors circled one another, both calculating their next move. The Shinobi, sensing an opportunity, feigned a lunge to Garp's left side. Garp instinctively moved to block the attack, leaving his right side exposed. The Shinobi capitalized on this opening, delivering a blindingly fast elbow strike to Garp's temple. Garp's head snapped to the side, and he stumbled, momentarily dazed. The Shinobi, eager to press his advantage, unleashed a series of swift punches and kicks, each strike connecting with a resounding thud.
The relentless onslaught sent Garp skidding back towards the ship's railing, his back pressed against the unyielding wood. The Shinobi, confident in his impending victory, moved in for the finishing blow, a devastating downward punch aimed directly at Garp's sternum. As the punch descended, Garp managed to sidestep the telegraphed attack with lightning-fast reflexes.
The Shinobi's fist collided with the railing, splintering the wood slightly and sending a shockwave through the ship's hull. The impact was so great that it created a small whirlpool in the water around the ship, a testament to the ferocity of the strike.
Garp, seizing the momentary distraction, moved in with a flurry of his own. He executed a powerful backhand strike that sent the Shinobi staggering back, followed by a swift, brutal punch to the gut. The Shinobi doubled over, gasping for breath, but managed to counter with an elbow strike to Garp's jaw.
The two combatants continued their relentless assault, each blow more powerful and more precise than the last. The Shinobi launched a series of sharp, calculated strikes targeting Garp's joints and pressure points. Garp, unfazed, countered with his own barrage of devastating punches, forcing his opponent to constantly adapt and change his strategy.
As the battle raged on, the ocean swelled and churned ferociously. Rising and falling in violent waves as the force of their punches reverberated through the sea. Garp's ship, caught in the crossfire, suffered under the strain of the crashing waves and the shockwaves emanating from the combatants' powerful strikes. The mast splintered, the sails torn to shreds, and the ship began to list dangerously to one side.
Garp, sensing the damage being done to his ship, knew he had to finish the fight quickly. He charged forward, his fists blazing with more Haki than ever. The Shinobi, recognizing the desperation in Garp's movements, decided to gamble on a high-risk, high-reward strategy.
As Garp's fist rocketed towards him, the opponent leaped into the air, narrowly dodging the attack. He then launched a counterattack, using the momentum from his leap to deliver a devastating dropkick. Garp, caught off guard, was sent reeling towards his own ship, crashing through its weakened hull.
Water gushed into the vessel, and Garp found himself submerged in the cold, unforgiving sea. He struggled to the surface amidst the ship's falling debris, gasping for air. As he surfaced, Garp saw the Shinobi standing triumphantly on the intact ship, a proud grin plastered across his face.
"Bwahaha" Garp laughed heartily in the water as his crew rushed to his aid, hauling him back onto the ship's remains.
"I take it you enjoyed that," Ryu observed, grinning at Garp's exhilarated expression.
"Man! I haven't had that much fun since the days of Roger," Garp replied, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"It's great to hear that. Your ship seems to have taken quite a beating, though. Why don't you join us while your ship undergoes repairs?" Ryu suggested.
Garp glanced at his damaged ship and considered the offer. "Nah, Water 7 is nearby, so I think we'll head there for repairs. Your ship held up surprisingly well in the fight. I'm curious to see how the shipwrights react to the unique wood it's made of. Why don't you join us?" Garp proposed with a devilish chuckle.
"Ha! Alright, we'll take you up on that," said with a mischievous smile.
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Alright, note that I wrote this before Garp's galaxy impact was revealed and I didn't really know how broken he was. I'll edit it later, but it's like midnight and I need some sleep before going to the base tomorrow so I'll do it next week... If I'll remember...