The three of them trudged through the woods, the late afternoon sun spilling gold across the trees as a very unconscious—and very massive—boar bounced along the dirt behind them, tied up with enough rope to hold down a Sea King.
Luffy hummed a cheery little tune, clearly satisfied with how things turned out. Poqin, however, was glaring over his shoulder like the boar had personally insulted his ancestors.
"This thing better not suddenly decide to wake up," Poqin muttered, dragging one end of the rope.
As if summoned by those very words, the boar snorted—loudly. Its eyes blinked open, dazed but rapidly focusing, and then its jaw snapped just inches from Poqin's backside.
Poqin let out a yelp and scrambled forward like someone had just lit a fire under him. "Damnit! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST KILL THE DAMN THING?!"
Gale barely flinched, adjusting the weight of the boar's other rope. "Meat spoils faster if it's dead. We've still got a ways to go, and I'm not hauling a pile of rotten bacon through the woods."
Poqin threw up his hands. "Oh sure, great plan! Why not just let it nibble my ass for a snack the whole way there?!"
"I dunno," Luffy chimed in, arms behind his head as he walked alongside them. "He's got a point. Meat does spoil. And I really don't wanna eat spoiled boar."
"You're not the one almost getting turned into an afternoon snack!"
"I could be!" Luffy offered brightly. "If you want, we can trade places!"
"No, thanks!"
Gale smirked, but didn't say anything. He could've finished the boar off, sure—but honestly? Letting it wake up now and then just to scare Poqin was kind of entertaining.
Eventually, the trees began to thin, and the battered shape of Dadan's hideout came into view—wooden walls, patched roofs, and bandits sprawled out in hammocks or playing cards like they didn't have a care in the world.
At least, until someone looked up and saw the giant silhouette coming through the trees.
"BOAR!" one of the bandits shrieked, flinging his cards into the air.
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"
"DADAN! GAR—GARP!!"
Panic erupted like someone had tossed a firecracker into a chicken coop. Bandits scrambled everywhere—grabbing clubs, spears, slingshots, one guy even wielded a frying pan.
From inside the house came two responses. The first was Dadan yelling, "WHAT IS IT THIS TIME?!"
And the second was the unmistakable thud-thud of heavy footsteps that made the floorboards groan in terror.
Garp emerged from the house like a one-man wrecking ball, cracking his knuckles and grinning with a gleam in his eye. "Where's the boar?! I haven't punched anything in hours!"
But he stopped short when he spotted Gale, Poqin, and Luffy dragging the tied-up boar behind them like a makeshift parade float. Of course, given how far they were, it was impossible for anyone but the vice admiral to spot them.
Gale seemed to notice him looking and waved. "Yo."
Garp blinked.
Then turned to the still-panicking bandits.
And began knocking heads together like he was popping bubble wrap. "Blind, the lot of you! You don't even know the difference between an enemy and dinner?!"
One of the bandits, now with a bump swelling on his head like a cartoon eggplant, muttered under his breath, "Ain't nothin' wrong with our eyes… you're just a freak…"
Garp's glare shifted over, slow and dangerous.
The bandit shrank three sizes and dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. "I said nothing! I love freaks!"
Meanwhile, Gale and the boys finally arrived in the clearing, dropping the rope with a dramatic flop as the boar let out one last groan and went limp again.
"We brought dinner," Gale announced dryly, dusting his hands.
Luffy grinned. "It tried to eat Poqin's butt, but I guess it gave up!"
"I hate both of you," Poqin mumbled.
Garp laughed loud enough to shake the trees. "HA! Good work! You hear that, ya lazy bums? Get the fire going! We're eatin' like kings tonight!"
The bandits shuffled toward the boar, some grumbling, others drooling. One of them poked it with a stick just to make sure it wouldn't suddenly wake up again.
Gale stepped aside and exhaled, watching the chaos unfold with mild amusement. He glanced at Luffy, who was now poking at the boar's snout and making pig noises.
'Yep,' Gale thought. 'Definitely Vice Admiral Garp's grandson.'
...
By the time the sun dipped below the trees, the boar was no longer a boar—it was a feast. Thick slabs of roasted meat sizzled on wooden plates, each cut about the size of a grown man's forearm, still steaming and glistening with grease.
The scent alone could make someone punch their own grandmother just to get a bite.
And with the last piece finally plated and set down, there was silence.
Then, chaos.
"FOOD!!" someone shouted—and like a dam bursting, every bandit in the vicinity lunged forward at once.
They didn't get far.
"BACK OFF, THIS IS MINE!!" Garp roared, swinging a plate in one hand like it was a cannonball and punting two bandits into the treetops with the other.
They vanished into the distance with a faint twinkle.
"Meatmeatmeatmeat—!!" Luffy yelled, stretching both arms out to snag four plates at once, only to karate-chop a man trying to reach for the same one. "GET YOUR OWN!"
"I'M TRYING!!" the bandit wheezed mid-air as Luffy launched him like a volleyball.
Shockingly, Poqin was still there—dodging elbows, leaping over flying bodies, and snatching meat like his life depended on it. He caught a plate mid-spin, tucked another under his arm, and even slide-tackled someone out of the way with the grace of a man who'd trained for this moment.
Meanwhile, Gale stood a short distance away, blinking slowly.
He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but watching three grown men eat like dragons fighting over treasure while throwing people across the clearing like party favors wasn't exactly what came to mind.
'I eat more than most people,' he thought, slowly processing the scene. 'Like… five-times-a-normal-portion "more." I've out-eaten entire inns during a festival back on Karate Island... But this… this is biblical. This is the kind of gluttony they warn you about in ancient scrolls.'
Luffy was now chomping through his fifth slab, face covered in grease and eyes sparkling with carnivorous joy. Garp wasn't far behind, laughing maniacally with a giant bone in each hand. Poqin had managed to squirrel away his share and was currently dual-wielding ribs while ducking a flying ladle.
Gale sighed, then moved in like a thief in the night—snatching a plate while Luffy was distracted punching a guy for "looking too hungry."
He wasn't about to go hungry just because three human-shaped tornadoes decided to inhale dinner. Call it pride. Call it survival. Call it "I don't want to starve to death while standing next to a buffet."
Not far away, Dadan sat in perfect seiza form, sipping sake like she was meditating in a temple. Her expression was serene. Enlightened, even. She looked like a woman who had seen this madness a hundred times and had long since chosen peace over participation.
That illusion lasted exactly twelve seconds.
WHAM.
One of the bandits—launched at Mach 3 by a particularly enthusiastic Luffy elbow—slammed right into her side like a rogue meteor. Dadan spat her sake all over the ground, her eyes twitching, jaw clenched.
"LUFFY!!" she roared, rising like a volcano about to blow, grabbing her massive club with both hands.
She charged with fire in her eyes and vengeance in her step—only for another bandit, courtesy of Garp this time, to crash into her head-on.
BOOM.
She hit the ground in a smoking heap, limbs twitching.
And worst of all? Luffy didn't even notice. He was too busy using someone's unconscious body as a plate-holder while grabbing more meat with his feet.
Gale, chewing calmly in the corner, shook his head.
"...Y'know," he muttered, "I always thought dinner with sailors would be intense. But this feels more like a war crime."
Poqin, face stuffed, gave him a greasy thumbs-up. "Totally worth it."
...
The sun hadn't even fully risen yet—just a hazy smear of gold creeping over the treetops—when Gale stepped out of Dadan's house, rapier in hand, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The air was still cool, the kind that made you second-guess your life choices, especially the ones involving early-morning workouts.
He yawned, rolling his shoulders as he stepped into the clearing.
Then paused.
There, dead center in the yard, was Poqin… already training.
The monk was in a horse stance so low it looked like he'd misplaced his spine, thick ropes tied to both arms with hefty stones swinging at the ends. His face was calm, eyes shut, like he was at one with the universe—or pretending to be so no one would talk to him.
Gale snorted softly and grinned.
'Guy walks around like a lazy ex-bartender with debt collectors on his trail… but here he is, up before dawn, training like his life depends on it.'
He could respect that.
For a second, his mind drifted—an image of Poqin's old master flickering in the back of his thoughts. That stern, wiry monk with a stare so intense it could probably curdle milk. Gale still didn't know the guy's name. The old man barely spoke, mostly barked.
'What kind of monster do you have to be to make someone like Poqin run away from home?'
He shrugged the thought off. Didn't really matter. Everyone's got baggage.
With a slow exhale, Gale stepped off to the side of the clearing and drew a small circle in the dirt with his foot. Time to get serious.
Today's focus: footwork.
Florencio's style wasn't just flashy swordplay—it was a dance. A brutal, elegant blur of movement. Gale had been practicing the movement pattern for weeks now.
It was like soru, the Marine high-speed step technique… but with more style. Florencio called it something dramatic like "Flor de Sangre", because of course he did.
The kicker? Gale could almost do it.
If he used his Devil Fruit powers to increase the muscle density in his legs, he could flicker-step just fine. But he hated relying on it. If he was going to master this, he needed to make it his. Not just a cheat code.
So, he breathed in, felt the earth beneath his feet, and moved.
He vanished—reappearing half a meter away in a skid of dirt. Not perfect, not clean. But progress.
"Still trying to moonwalk through air?" Poqin called out, cracking one eye open.
Gale didn't stop moving. "Still trying to summon enlightenment through leg day?"
"Hey, these thighs are sacred," Poqin said, nodding toward his wobbly legs. "If I ever need to smuggle melons, I'm covered."
They both chuckled, falling into a comfortable rhythm—each lost in their own grind but not entirely isolated.
After a few minutes of sweaty silence, Poqin broke it again. "So… is Garp normal for a Marine, or is he, y'know… a one-of-a-kind lunatic?"
Gale let out a dry scoff, barely missing a step in his drill.
"Not even close," he said. "Most Marines would slap you in cuffs just for stealing a loaf of bread."
Poqin raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's fair, I guess."
"In the best case scenario," Gale added. "Depending on who you stole the bread from, they might just sink your island instead."
Poqin blinked. "...What?"
"Yeah." Gale slowed to a stop, wiping his brow. "You ever accidentally swipe a noble's sweet roll? Boom—your whole village is now oceanfront property."
Poqin whistled, genuinely horrified. "Man. That's cold."
"Welcome to absolute justice."
They lapsed into silence again, the kind that wasn't awkward—just comfortably worn in. The wind rustled the leaves gently, like nature was too sleepy to put in real effort yet.
Gravel crunched softly under Gale's shifting boots, and off in the distance, a bird was absolutely losing its mind in a tree.
"Is it just me," Gale muttered, "or is that bird screaming directly at me?"
Poqin didn't open his eyes. "Judgmental sparrow. Classic."
Gale gave the tree a dirty look, then let his focus drift back to the house—just in time to spot a figure creeping out the back door, half-crouched like he was auditioning for the role of "Shady Guy #3" in some village play.
He squinted, shading his eyes against the rising sun.
"…Is that Luffy?"
It was Luffy.
And he was moving in slow motion, exaggerated tiptoe and all, like some cartoon villain preparing ro perform acts of evil mischief. The boy's face was pinched in mock seriousness, brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stared down at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand like it held the secrets to world domination.
Gale blinked, watching him slink behind a bush with all the grace of a potato in socks.
"Okay, this looks mildly suspicious," Gale said dryly. "Wanna see what he's up to?"
Poqin cracked one eye open again, smirked, and stood up with a grunt. "I was starting to get cramps anyway. Let's go stalk the monkey."
"Purely for educational purposes," Gale said, already moving.
"Obviously."
The two of them exchanged matching, mischievous grins before slipping off toward the bushes, leaving their training behind—and unknowingly stepping into whatever brand of chaos Luffy had planned before sunrise.
...
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