C16 The 153rd Branch Office

The Navy's 153rd Branch

Rodney had just turned in a group from the Cannon Pirate Group to the Navy and claimed his bounty with the heads of Clive Shazo and the Bamboo Man. After securing his reward, he decided to treat himself to a meal at a local restaurant. The food he'd been forced to eat while dealing with the pirates was barely edible; it was enough to keep one alive, but one couldn't be too fussy about the taste.

"Here's your dish, sir. Enjoy your meal," the server said as he placed a large plate of meat in front of Rodney. It smelled delicious, and he was about to dig in when a commotion erupted outside, followed by a large dog barging into the restaurant and charging straight at him.

Rodney wasn't about to let the animal succeed in its attack. With a swift kick, he sent the dog flying, and the restaurant fell eerily quiet.

The dog was sizable and made a pitiful sound as it hit the wall and struggled to its feet. It barked twice at Rodney, then looked at him with fear. The restaurant owner quickly advised, "Buddy, you better run. That dog belongs to Colonel Monka's son. If you've hurt his dog, he won't let you off easy!"

"Colonel Monka?" Rodney murmured, recalling the name.

Navy Captain Monka had been promoted to Colonel after supposedly capturing Kuro. However, Kuro had faked his death, and Monka, having been hypnotized into believing he had caught Kuro, underwent a drastic personality change. Once a passionate Navy man, he had become prideful, arrogant, and cruel, now ruling over Seizer Town and the Navy's 153rd Branch.

As expected, the moment the owner finished speaking, a blonde with a middle-parted hairstyle and a double chin burst into the restaurant, followed by two Navy officers with grim expressions. They would have loved to teach the young man a lesson, but he was Colonel Monka's son, and laying a hand on him would mean the end of their careers.

Rodney eyed the youth, who was clad in garish clothes, clearly no upstanding individual. The youth demanded, "Who is it? Who dared to hit my precious dog?"

The dog Rodney had kicked barked at him, and the young man named Beirut lashed out in anger, "So it's you, punk. I'm now suspecting you're a Pirate. Guards, take him away!"

"Yes!"

Two grim-faced navy officers approached and murmured an apology.

Bang! Bang!

Rodney swiftly knocked them out with a chop of his hand. He grinned, yanked a piece of meat from a plate, and ate it with his bare hands as he approached Beirut. "So, you're the one trying to catch me?" he taunted.

Beirut, terrified, stumbled backward and fell, invoking his father's name in a panic, "I, I, my dad is the strongest man around, Colonel Monca. You wouldn't dare hurt me, would you?"

Rodney finished the meat in his hand and mockingly cooed, "Oh, I'm so scared."

With a swift slap, Beirut's face ballooned. Clutching his swollen cheek, he fled in tears.

The restaurant owner, witnessing the scene, advised, "Sir, you'd better run. Colonel Monca is not someone to mess with. If he finds out you hit his son, he'll come looking for you."

Rodney, slight in stature, was no match for the burly Colonel Monca. It was wiser to make a quick exit.

The patrons felt a surge of satisfaction at Rodney's audacity in striking Beirut. They had long wanted to give the insolent Bad Boy a taste of his own medicine but had held back out of fear of his father.

Rodney's slap had been a breath of fresh air.

"It's okay," Rodney said nonchalantly, returning to his seat to continue his meal. The food tasted better than ever, especially after delivering that well-deserved slap.

The restaurant owner, however, was concerned. He dreaded the possibility of a brawl breaking out and ruining his establishment. In martial arts novels, inns were often the unfortunate venues of such conflicts, leaving the innkeepers to deal with the aftermath and losses. A small business like his couldn't afford such damages.

A fight would be disastrous for him, and expecting Colonel Monca to compensate was nearly unthinkable—unless the impossible happened, like the sun rising in the west.

Despite the owner's warnings, Rodney remained unfazed. The sound of footsteps grew closer. Beirut had quickly returned with backup—none other than his father, Colonel Monca, fresh from the navy and already confronted with his beaten son. How could he let this affront go unchallenged? He arrived, ready for confrontation.

After Kuro crushed his chin, he replaced it with a steel one emblazoned with the navy emblem and swapped his right hand for a sharp axe. Towering and muscular, his gaze was filled with disdain for everyone he looked upon.

True to his title, the Axe King, Meng Ka, had once felled the Navy Hero, Garp, with a single blow. Seeing him now, his reputation was clearly well-earned.

"You're the one who beat up my son?"

Having finished his meal, Rodney picked his teeth with a toothpick from the table and asked, "Yeah, that was me. Got a problem with that?"

"Well, no problem at all. Except that you're going to have to pay a price." As he raised his right hand, the axe poised to strike, his body suddenly seized up.

"Your... your eyes..." He trembled uncontrollably, a sense of forgotten horror washing over him.

But he couldn't recall what it was. In the depths of his crimson eyes, three black Magatama slowly spun, shattering the false memories and revealing the gruesome truth of that bloody night.

The large man swayed and then collapsed.

"Here's the payment for the meal." Rodney tossed a Belle onto the table, bit down on his toothpick, and walked out, leaving the marines in the restaurant too intimidated to stop him.

With his Sharingan, he had dispelled the hypnotist Zanaki's control, allowing Colonel Meng Ka to recall the true events of that night. The extent of the change within him remained to be seen, but at least he wouldn't carry the same arrogant, dismissive attitude as before.

The restaurant fell silent, the patrons holding their breath, fearing for Colonel Meng Ka's condition.

"Dad, Dad, wake up! Dad, please don't scare me!" Beirut pleaded.

After a quick examination, the navy confirmed that Colonel Meng Ka was breathing normally and had no injuries. "Young Master Beirut, there's no need to worry. Colonel Meng Ka has merely fainted; there's nothing serious. You don't have to be overly concerned."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Help me get my dad back!" Beirut demanded.

"Right away."

The navy man muttered a curse under his breath and, with some reluctance, he and a few others carried Colonel Meng Ka away.

...

"Mission: Escort the merchant ship to Koror Village.

Mission Level: D

Mission Reward: 20 Mission Points."

The mission commenced with remarkable orderliness. The escort duty wasn't particularly challenging—in fact, it was quite leisurely. So leisurely that he spent his time on the ship relentlessly training to enhance his physical strength.

In the One Piece Universe, simply honing one's body could lead to reaching the pinnacle of this world. Take Garp, for instance, in his youth, he joined forces with Roger and others to confront the notorious Rocks Pirate Group. The group was formidable, boasting members like Golden Lion, White Beard, Kaidou, and a host of other powerful pirates. Yet, they managed to obliterate this legendary pirate group.

On Roger's ship, no one consumed a Devil Fruit, and Garp had no need for such things. This goes to show that physical conditioning alone can place one among the strongest in this world.

Mastering the Eight Gates was imperative, to elevate his physical condition to new heights. By doing so, he could unlock up to seven gates—the threshold. The eighth gate would only be opened when he was prepared to face mutual destruction with an adversary. Otherwise, it would be foolish. However, he doubted he would ever encounter such a situation in his lifetime, as he was not ready to die.

Training in the Six Moves was also part of his regimen, but it had to be approached methodically. His body certainly required more time to become stronger.

Thankfully, he possessed the Sharingan, which was crucial in capturing the essence of his training.

Garp's animal techniques were already committed to memory. The remaining challenge was his relatively weak constitution, a common shortcoming among ninjas, characterized by high offensive capabilities but low stamina. Not everyone was a Senju or a Uzumaki, nor had they trained in the Thunder Escape Armor.

Thus, continued physical training and proper nutrition were essential. All of this would take time to achieve.

He was balancing his missions with his training regimen. That was the current phase of his journey.