One Piece: Surrounded at Marineford? Just kidding!

Chapter 175: Roger and Garp!

Meanwhile, at the other end of the Valley of the Gods.

The fighting here is clearly very light.

Gol D. Roger's famous sword, Ace, only flashed a silver light.

Three henchmen rushed up, each with a string across his throat, and he collapsed.

"Hey, Roger, can't you be serious for once?!" A man wielding two axes swept away three charging thugs, his rough voice filled with displeasure. "These guys may be weak, but don't underestimate them!"

The speaker was none other than Spark Jabba, the right-hand man of the future Pirate King.

He turned and glared at the nonchalant captain, his voice unusually loud.

Just now, a stray bullet flew past Roger's straw hat.

He himself didn't even lift his eyelids.

Because his mind wasn't on that at the moment.

It flew away a long time ago.

From the moment we started, wave after wave of Conqueror's Haki was crashing down from the center of the island.

In particular, those few violent wills merged together and collided head-on with an even more ancient, evil, and inhuman pressure.

That collision.

The entire Valley of the Gods was greatly impacted.

Roger's smile vanished.

His eyes darkened, fixed intently on the torn part of the sky.

Jabba finally realized something was wrong, rushed to Roger's side, and asked in a low voice.

"What's wrong, Roger?!"

Roger did not reply immediately.

His Observation Haki spread out, but he touched something that did not belong to power.

A stirring in the blood.

Within that vast and malevolent aura, there was a sense of destiny, familiar yet exciting.

"That evil and ancient aura that just erupted..." Roger's voice was low, with a tremor he himself didn't even realize. He murmured to himself, as if asking himself, or perhaps questioning the world around him, "...What exactly was that thing?"

He could sense that it was something destined to be an enemy of "D".

Roger then made no further hesitation. With a flick of his wrist, the sharp dagger made a crisp metallic scraping sound as it was cleanly and neatly sheathed.

This action is the command.

He turned around abruptly, his gaze sweeping sharply over his companions.

The surrounding crew members stopped what they were doing and looked at their captain.

Roger grinned, his fighting spirit burning away all the tension, and his smile returned.

This time, however, his smile carried an undisguised mix of excitement and danger.

"Let's go!"

He yelled at everyone.

"Let's go see that incredible behemoth!"

Before he finished speaking, Roger had already dashed off like an arrow, leaving a blurry afterimage on the battlefield. His speed was so great that Jabba and the others didn't even have time to ask a question.

Jabba and the other crew members were left staring at each other, their eyes filled with the same helplessness and the same fervor.

"What a troublesome captain!"

Jabba sighed, but without hesitation, he drew his knife and followed.

The entire Roger Pirates transformed into a torrent, chasing their king and rushing towards the center of the storm.

. . .

Meanwhile, the atmosphere was completely different at the naval positions.

boom!

A muffled thud.

The young Buddha Sengoku was slammed against half of the bunker.

An iron hand grabbed his collar and lifted him up by half.

"The Warring States Period!!"

The roar exploded close to his ears.

Young Monkey D. Garp's eyes were bloodshot, and his face was devoid of any trace of laziness, only twisted rage remained.

He stared at the Warring States period and asked, word by word.

Tell me! Why did the island become like this?

His voice was filled with anger.

It's a fire that can't be contained.

Sengoku's face contorted in pain; he could feel the force in Garp's hand, enough to crush steel.

He raised his hand to push, but the arm didn't budge.

"Garp..."

A hoarse voice squeezed out of the throat of the Warring States period.

"...I don't know either!

I... I was just following orders!

"Acting under orders?!"

These four words were like the final fuse that ignited deep within Garp's heart.

"Following orders, my foot!!"

He roared, pointing with one finger at the churning sky in the distance.

The atmosphere there was evil, chaotic, and violent.

"Our justice!"

"Is it just that those Celestial Dragons, on our own turf, created a scene that even the demons of hell would find disgusting?!"

"Our justice!"

"Are we just going to watch our soldiers get crushed like ants while protecting those scum?!"

Garp's roar sounded pale on the battlefield at this moment.

But it gets straight to the heart of the problem.

His gaze swept over the scorched earth beneath his feet; the once forested, solid rocks were now nothing but dust.

The air was thick with blood, gunpowder smoke, and a nauseatingly sweet smell.

His fists were clenched so tightly they cracked.

His knuckles were deathly pale.

The fire burning in my chest had nowhere to go.

Finally, all the anger and all the questions turned into a heavy breath.

Kap released his grip.

He didn't say another word, silently turned around, bent down and picked up the naval cap from the ground.

Sweep away the dust.

Then, slowly, yet with utmost solemnity, he put it back on his head.

When he looked up again, the rage and confusion in his red eyes were gone.

He didn't look at Sengoku again, only leaving him with a resolute back view. His voice, now heavy as iron, each word resounding and striking Sengoku's heart.

"Sengoku, I hope that after this battle, you can give me a... reasonable explanation for what happened on this island!"

Before he could finish speaking, Garp had already charged out like a cannonball.

He suddenly exerted force with both legs, and the soil and gravel beneath his feet instantly exploded, forming two deep craters.

He transformed into a black lightning bolt, rushing headlong into the battlefield that even he found terrifying.

Although the aura there was terrifying and powerful enough to deter the weak, for Garp, that was his battlefield.

"Garp—!"

When the Warring States period reached out, it only grasped a handful of air.

He wanted to tell Karp that some things were beyond his control; some orders were beyond his ability to disobey.

But in the end, he simply let his arms fall limply to his sides. His face was etched with struggle, pain, and despair.

He watched Kapna's resolute back as he walked away, feeling utterly helpless.

. . .

In the sky, the wind and clouds are constantly changing.

Two streaks of light, one black and one white, were converging at an astonishing speed from different directions on the island toward the core battlefield of God's Valley.

Rushing towards the very center of the storm.

The future Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.

Monkey D. Garp, a future naval hero.

They came from different directions.

With different purposes.

They had different purposes.

The truth about a sworn enemy.

One for their own sense of justice.

Two streaks of light flew swiftly toward the same coordinate.

That battlefield that determined the course of the world.

The battlefield of God Valley welcomes its final two protagonists!