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The giant anglerfish thrashed wildly in the depths, the pain in its stomach driving it mad.
Powerful currents surged, creating massive waves on the surface—Finally, the creature, its consciousness fading, succumbed to the pain, its massive body slowly rising towards the surface.
Garp coughed violently. He had taken a nasty spill into the anglerfish's corrosive stomach acid.
If it weren't for his immense strength and mastery of [Armament Haki]—the acid would have dissolved him. Even so, he'd managed to pull himself out without a whimper—his resilience was monstrous.
His [Armament Haki]—honed over decades of brutal battles, was practically unmatched. And the strength of one's Haki was directly tied to their physical prowess.
The floating islands, shattered by their clash, were gone, the landscape unrecognizable. Only a few small rocks remained above the acid, providing precarious footing.
"Old man Garp—a true legend of the sea. Such strength—" Arthur's face was pale, his arms hanging limply at his sides, his body weak and exhausted, barely able to stand.
He was awestruck by Garp's endurance, unaware that Garp was equally impressed.
"Bwahahaha! Not bad yourself, kid! If you were allowed to reach your full potential, you'd be a force to be reckoned with!" Garp still had the strength to laugh.
"Which is why—for the sake of keeping the peace—you're coming back to Impel Down with me!"
Gathering his remaining strength, Garp used Soru, vanishing and reappearing instantly in front of Arthur.
"Impel Down? You're joking, right? Hahaha!" Despite his exhaustion, Arthur's eyes gleamed with a manic energy.
This battle—a brutal, exhilarating clash, had invigorated him. Nothing on the sea compared to this thrill, this pure, unadulterated joy of combat. He'd even forgotten about the Pure Gold.
"HAHAHAHA! Old man, I'm going to beat you this time!!!"
Arthur's laughter echoed through the anglerfish's stomach. He was on the verge of collapse, but he would not yield.
He couldn't maintain his full [Thunder God form]—but he could push himself—one last time.
Electricity surged through his body, coating him in a layer of shimmering Lightning armor. He glared at Garp, who was rushing towards him.
Lightning crackled, engulfing Arthur, transforming him into a smaller, less powerful version of his [Thunder God form].
He launched himself at Garp. Even with Soru, Garp couldn't match his speed.
Arthur vanished, reappearing before Garp, his Lightning fist slamming into him.
Garp, sent flying like a cannonball, used [Geppo] mid-air, his body shifting as he adjusted his trajectory, meeting Arthur's Lightning fist with a [Haki]-clad punch.
They clashed in mid-air, their fists a blur of motion.
Ignoring their injuries, their bodies screaming in protest, each blow a desperate gamble, their only goal to make the other fall first.
Their punches grew faster, a relentless barrage.
Arthur's consciousness faded, his movements now purely instinctual. He felt like his body was breaking apart, waves of pain washing over him.
He coughed up blood, staining his prison uniform. He'd reached his limit. He couldn't hold on any longer.
Garp, his body numb from the Lightning's burning and paralyzing effects, only his [Haki] preventing his complete collapse, fell as well, his eyes closed, unconscious.
The rhythmic sound of [Geppo] echoed.
Akainu, having searched the entire stomach for Tsuru and Olga, returned to find the landscape utterly transformed.
The warships were gone, sunk by the thrashing anglerfish. The Marines on board, lacking Garp's monstrous resilience, hadn't survived the acid. Not a trace remained.
Even the debris from the ships and the small islands had vanished, the scene drastically different from when he'd left, as if a bomb had gone off, sinking everything.
"What happened here? Was it that tremor from earlier?" Akainu's face was grim as he searched for Garp.
He'd left Garp alone—confident in his strength. Few could defeat him in a one-on-one fight, Arthur included. He hadn't expected this.
Using [Geppo], he searched the remaining debris, finally finding Garp on a small, partially submerged rock.
Garp, stripped down to his undershirt and shorts, his fists scorched to the bone, seemed oblivious to the pain, a snot bubble forming as he snored softly, utterly exhausted.
"Vice Admiral Garp! Wake up! What happened? Where's Arthur?" Akainu shook him.
Garp's snores intensified, then he stirred, his eyes blinking open, his expression dazed. "Sakazuki? Where's Arthur? Get him! That brat's exhausted! Don't let him recover!"
"Vice Admiral, I've searched the entire area. I only found you. The Marines…they're all gone," Akainu reported, his face grim.
"What?" Garp slowly got to his feet, picking his nose. "That kid…Did he recover and escape?"
Arthur's eyelids grew heavy. He couldn't stay awake any longer.
He vaguely remembered Garp's relentless assault, his body screaming in protest, then darkness as his head slammed against something hard.
He drifted in and out of consciousness—hearing a strange, guttural whimpering, the sensation of something sharp gnawing at his flesh, a voice urging him to wake up.
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