The Vice Admiral's triumphant laughter cracked through the storm like a cold iron whip, lashing across Roger's burning face.
"GARP, YOU BASTARD!!"
Roger's face flushed a deep red, then pale, then green.
Blood vessels bulged at the corners of his crimson eyes as the gazes of both Marines and pirates widened — confused, stunned, and utterly speechless.
He almost spat out a mouthful of blood from sheer humiliation.
And Garp, grinning so wide his eyes nearly vanished, roared again:
"Looks like you really do like the color red, huh, Roger?! Bwahahahaha!!"
Without missing a beat, Garp lunged forward —
His iron fist wrapped in swirling Conqueror's Haki —
And smashed straight toward Roger's face.
Roger, still awkwardly yanking his pants up with one hand, scrambled to raise his blade.
The momentum of Garp's punch, charged with laughter and fury, collided with Roger's sword.
The shockwave blasted Roger backward like a human cannonball.
The deck of the Oro Jackson shuddered violently as Roger crashed into it, splintering wood flying like shrapnel.
A giant crater split open beneath him.
And through the smoke, Garp's voice rang out again — clearer, louder, unstoppable:
"WAHAHAHA!! ROGER, YOUR PANTS FELL OFF!!"
The Marines and pirates alike gawked.
Sparks erupted once more as blade met fist in the rolling clouds of battle.
"SHUT UP!!!" Roger bellowed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.
His red-rimmed eyes glared murderously at the cackling Vice Admiral.
Even Roger — reckless, wild, thick-skinned Roger —
Felt the burning shame of being pantsed in the middle of a grand battle.
It was a humiliation worse than defeat itself.
"Am I wrong though?!"
Garp barked with gleeful mockery.
"Your pants did fall down!! Wahahaha!!"
In a blink — Garp disappeared.
A streak across the air.
The explosive burst speed of the Rokushiki technique.
Not just ten times faster than ordinary officers —
It was like facing a ghost in the storm.
Neither Marine nor pirate could react —
Even their Observation Haki lagged behind.
One instant Garp was laughing —
The next, he was right beside Roger.
"And your underwear is RED!!"
A single merciless punch.
A bloody tooth flew from Roger's mouth, spinning through the air.
His lips instantly swelled into a bruised purple welt.
Roger, caught completely off guard, was smashed back into the ship's cabin.
Rayleigh's pupils shrank sharply.
Garp had rattled Roger's mental state —
Threw him off balance.
Even Roger's legendary Observation Haki faltered.
A low, gravelly voice replied.
Before the echo faded, Rayleigh's silhouette flashed forward — gliding low over the deck, straight toward Garp.
"Your opponent is me!"
Behind him, a blood-soaked Dragon emerged, seizing a jagged gust of wind in his hands and hurling it forward.
A cross-shaped slash of wind tore through the tempest.
From the whirling winds, a shadow burst forth —
Broad, hulking, with twin axes flashing.
Sunglasses glinting, muscles coiled like steel cables, Gaban charged Dragon with a roar.
Those twin battle axes carried a deadly sharpness that rivaled even Rayleigh's blade.
Dragon's pupils tightened.
He had no choice but to retreat, dissipating into the storm as living wind.
Already gravely wounded from Roger's earlier blow, drained from his duel with Rayleigh —
He couldn't face Gaban head-on now.
"You can't run, Roger!!
Today, I'm locking you up!!"
Garp thundered, smashing aside incoming pirates like a bulldozer, charging straight toward the ship's interior.
Rayleigh flashed in beside him —
His silver blade sweeping low for Garp's waist.
Garp's blackened hand snatched the blade mid-swing, sparks flying in a furious shower.
"Out of my way, Rayleigh!!"
Sweat dripped from Rayleigh's brow.
"This battle ends here, Garp," he said coldly.
"LIKE HELL IT DOES!!"
But before he could shove forward —
A figure erupted from the smashed cabin.
His hair whipped wildly around him, his eyes burned blood-red.
Lightning — black and red — snarled around his greatsword, crackling with raw fury.
In an instant, he moved.
A black-red flash ripped across the deck.
With the speed of a storm god, Roger slashed downward.
Garp raised his arms, Haki flaring—
The impact blasted Garp backward.
Blood flew from his lips.
Twin forces — Rayleigh and Roger — had combined.
Garp was hurled from the deck like a ragdoll, plunging into the churning sea.
Rayleigh shouted immediately.
He grabbed Roger by the arm, leaning close.
"Roger! We have to go! If we keep fighting, Marine reinforcements will swarm us!!"
"RETREAT?!" Roger roared, struggling. "I haven't beat that bastard enough yet!!"
Rayleigh ignored him and barked again:
From the stern of the Oro Jackson, Spencer's voice answered:
He flashed across the deck, reaching the ship's hidden control panel.
With a heavy mechanical clank, the wooden panels peeled away—
and a massive cannon unfolded from the rear of the ship.
Garp's head bobbed above the raging sea.
And instantly recognized it.
He spluttered seawater —
Then broke into another roaring laugh:
"WAHAHA!! Roger, your pants fell off!!"
Roger's nose steamed like a raging bull.
"BASTARD!! Rayleigh, LET ME GO!! I'LL KILL HIM!!"
Rayleigh, red-faced, pinned Roger down with both arms.
A searing white blast erupted from the rear cannon.
Firing not bullets, but pure compressed air.
It tore a hundred-meter gouge across the ocean.
And with that explosive force —
the Oro Jackson leapt skyward.
The pirate ship soared over the shattered blockade of Marine ships —
and into the open, wild sea.