Heaven Has No Limit Chapter 16 - (Not) Okay, Boomer

There was no wisdom to be found with age.

…The fight was one-sided.

Sengoku often said it, that the young saw the old and in their eyes they were vessels of wisdom and knowledge, but in the eyes of the old, what they possessed was not wisdom, just experience. Even a fool who had been burned once by fire could narrate to a child the demerits of putting his finger into a candle’s flame. The child was the wiser one, because if he listened, he learned without the pain.

The only problem was that the children seldom listened. So, it was, when they did get burned, they would cry, and their elders would click their tongues and say, ‘Did I not warn you?’ and in the eyes of those children, their foolish elders would then seem to be the wisest of sages.

Following the trail of a battle, Garp could feel the ache and screeching of his bones as he moved. Whether it was something about the Germa Kingdom, or whether it was the site of the massacre or whether it was again watching a pirate beg marines for salvation that caused him to feel the compounded hammer of years, he could not say.

Or maybe it was Tsuru’s cigarette-stained breath, and the jadedness in her overall demeanor. He had not failed to notice how her eyes no longer held the same zeal for her brand of justice she once championed. Her ‘Cleansing Justice’, as she called it, was no longer as clean, nor was it as pristine, as her reputation was dragged in the muck due to being at the beck and call of a Celestial Dragon.

Garp would personally give a ‘Fist of Love’ to any incompetent fool he caught spreading rumors of such a nature, but he was one man with only two fists, and the mouths and tongues were in the hundreds and thousands.

The battle moved here… The ground… this was caused by Soru… with Armament Haki…

Garp crouched at a spot where the ground almost appeared liquid, distorted and misshapen as if superheated and rapidly cooled. His gaze traveled downwards, and he continued to move on.

As he did, his gaze went up to the unnaturally cloudless skies, his dog mask doing the work of covering his eyes from the sun.

…Hmm.

Without a word, he continued to follow the trail of the battle.

There was no wisdom to be found with age.

What came with old age was aching bones and restlessness, and the snippets of wisdom, which as a boy he was sure was an assured gift given to any whose years accumulated, was an illusion. Finding the ‘trick’ that the wise old men of his youth were simply fools who’d been burned and wished not for the young to make the same mistakes with fire, had been disenchanting. He had hoped, in some ways, for that sagacity expected of elders. Had he that wisdom, had he that percipience, he would have the answers to the problems he had been struggling with ever since that day.

He would have had the answers to those months, where the Marines shot and killed innocent women for any suspected association with Roger, killing infants in their cradles for the mere suspicion that they were associated with the Pirate King.

Had he the wisdom, he would have known how best to save those lives, without revealing what he knew. 

Had he the wisdom…

Garp followed the trail of battle, his eyes gravitating to spots where the use of Rankyaku was most prominent. The cuts were incredibly clean, so clean, they were clearly specialized. The visualization aspect of the wind blade was amongst the hardest things to teach newbies of the Rokushiki Arts, but whoever had used these had no problems with visualization. Garp could almost praise it, were he the sort of man to give praise. 

Yet, it painted an even odder picture.

The Rokushiki User dominated the entirety of the fight.

The other… used a Devil Fruit… Strings.

Finding more signs of battle, remaking the entire scene in his head, he long departed from Tsuru and the others, and went deeper and deeper into the Germa Kingdom, moving on the whim of something that could not be entirely considered mere curiosity or nosiness. 

Garp reached into a bag of chips from his coat, opened them,  threw them into his mouth and munched as he followed the trail. Continuing to crunch softly until he arrived at a graveyard.

The fight was dragged here… The Rokushiki User did so… 

Using Soru to relocate someone besides yourself is possible… but the execution…

The flecks and pieces of hair and flesh indicated the enemy had not been relocated willingly. The brutality of the fight was unusual, from Garp’s perspective.

…One side overpowered the other…

They could have won immediately…

But they did not want to win immediately.

They wanted…

A fight.

But at this point, they became serious…

There was no wisdom that came with old age.

Garp could simply see what he could see due to experience. Personal experience in battles and fights, and enough so that it was possible to look at the havoc of a battlefield and use inductions and deductions to come to the most likely answers of what had transpired.

Why he chose to do this was a thing Garp himself could not answer.

Had he been moved by the sound of a lowly pirate begging to save another pirate?

No.

Garp was not the type of person to be moved for such a reason. That he had been moved once for a different pirate, at a different time, did not make much, if any, difference to his current actions. That other pirate had been a rival; that other pirate had fought with him, time and again, in battles to the death.

This pirate, who had pleaded for the saving of another, was merely another evil pirate that needed to be squashed. That an evil pirate could beg and plead for the sake of their companions did not stop them from being an evil pirate.

Even so, Garp followed the trail of the battle all the way to its conclusion. He followed it to the devastated cemetery, a graveyard, which should have been the resting place of the bereaved, and there he would find the victor and the defeated.

That was where he saw him.

“…Your old man, Homing, he didn’t get that, did he? Didn’t get people.”

A boy, in a white suit, sitting on a tombstone speaking to a much taller man, who was bloodied, beaten and buried into the ground. A man, whom Garp could tell with his Observation Haki, had not the tiniest spark of life left within him.

The fight was over, yet—

The victorious party did not have the mien of one who had just triumphed in battle.

Unscathed, untouched, pristine, the face of the boy was contorted in a twisted amalgamation of emotions, an expression so horrid and grotesque that seeing it upon the face of one so young gave Garp’s heart a fright.

The boy was a Celestial Dragon. He was not garbed in the attire Garp had seen of them; he did not have the same mannerisms Garp had come to associate with them, but there was no mistaking what he was, or who he was.

This was the Celestial Dragon child who had been giving Tsuru orders. A boy supposedly related to one of the Gorosei.

Garp did not try to hide his presence, nor did he move to interrupt.

“...it didn’t matter what he did, or why he did it, or what he said, or why he said it. Those bitches would hate him anyway. People don’t need a thousand-word essay to hate shit. All they need is an excuse.”

Garp’s brows furrowed. The words were the kind of cynical viewpoint he would expect of a pirate, or the kind he would expect of someone who had been around enough terrible people. Coming from a Celestial Dragon was something Garp could not understand.

How would he know anything of people if he lived his entire life in the Holy Land?

“Man, I almost wonder what would have changed if your old man didn’t decide to make that dumbass decision. Or, what would have happened if you managed to return to Mariejois?”

Is he talking to the…?

Garp had seen it, oddly enough, many times. There was no shortage of people, cultures and attitudes on the Grand Line towards battle, and towards death. There were those who would weep as they defeated their enemies, there were those who would praise them, there were those who would scorn them, there were those who would mock them, and there were those still, lacking in any semblance of humanity, who would desecrate them.

The Celestial Dragon Child was… it was...

An Ode to a Fallen Foe.

“At the end of that ass book, Don Quixote finally gives up his chuuni-dream. At the end, he accepts reality, and you know what happens when he does?”

To no surprise of anyone, there was no answer.

“He dies.”

Garp frowned.

“Don Quixote finally sees the world as it is, not as he wanted it to be, and it kills him.” 

The Celestial Dragon Boy stared down at the corpse for moments in silence.

“...fucking skill issue.”

The silence stretched, as he stared, and Garp simply watched. The boy’s expression continued to contort, and as it did, Garp had difficulties grasping it. For as he had always seen the Celestial Dragons as less than human, as incapable of standard human emotions beyond pride, arrogance, and haughtiness.

But this boy, if Garp did not know better, he would believe the child was…

He was… 

Grieving?

Grieving without knowing how to grieve.

Without knowing why.

In place of what should be triumph at a victory, there was only… 

Loss and Anger.

Yet, who the anger was directed to, Garp could not say.

“Hey. You have three seconds to show your face. I’m not in the fucking mood right now.”

Garp had never attempted to hide himself. Nor had he any intentions of doing so. Yet, this was still a Saint. Though they were not in Mariejois, and though the two of them were the only ones present at this graveyard, so there was no one to punish him for not bowing or showing proper deference, Garp was still cautious about the words he had heard regarding the boy’s supposed relation to the Gorosei.

Stepping out slowly, Garp opened his lips, only to be beaten to the punch.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Garp froze. The words made it sound as though he were recognized at first glance. Even with his dog mask on, he was recognized by a Celestial Dragon, instantly?

“Saint, you know—”

“Yeah, I know you the fuck you are, Garp. I know who you are, Hero.”

Garp did not move. He did not speak. The word, Hero, was dripping in so much sarcasm and mockery that it would have taken a deaf man to miss it. The boy, Jaygarcia Noah, turned to him with eyes so filled with irritation. Then, the longer he stared, the more the irritation faded.

“You probably came with Tsuru, didn’t you?”

The connection was made so swiftly that Garp did not know what to make of it. No, there was nothing about the boy that Garp could make of. There was something odd about him. His mannerisms, his movements, his attire, his air, his breath. That, and…

His Haki.

It was…

Strong. 

Strong.

For a child his age to possess Haki that potent was simply absurd. The term "monster" really did not do the boy justice.

“Ahhh… fucking hell. This world, man. I fuckin’ love it. The universe keeps sending me bone after bone. When a bum disappoints, it sends me the bummest of the top tiers to compensate… Monkey "Disappointment" Garp in the flesh,” The boy threw his head back and laughed. “Fuckin’ hell! I love this place!”

The boy, the Saint, turned his neck towards him.

“Eh… you wouldn’t have been my first choice as a casus belli, but… hey, blame your shitty fucking luck.”

His index finger went up.

Garp’s senses screamed.

“Glock.”

He tossed aside his bag of chips as a black sheen of Armament Hardening coated his hand, which rapidly went up to protect his face. A projectile slammed into it with enough force to push him back a step before he batted it away, sending it careening off into the air.

Water. He’s using… water?

Glock, the attack that struck him, was simply a concentrated ball of water, a small amount, about the size of a single raindrop. The boy gathered it at the tip of his finger and fired it with absurd strength and Shigan. That accelerated the droplet to a high enough speed and velocity to be lethal to near-anything unfortunate enough to be in its path.

The initial means of the attack were based on the Shigan, but the actual execution…

Fishman… Karate?

He knows Fishman Karate…?

Fishman Karate… combined with Rokushiki?

“Finally! Someone who can tank the basic shit! Alright, don’t fucking move. I need to test out the variant moves.”

The boy’s second hand went up.

“Glock: Overwatch.”

A ball of water formed within his index fingers before it flew upwards into the air. Another, then a third, then a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, a seventh, and eight, and a ninth. The nine small, marble-sized balls of water rotated behind him, moving at extreme speed. Fast enough to cause his hair and clothes to whip around, and fast enough for gusts of wind to form and give rise to clouds of dust.

He… combined Rankyaku with—

Garp could see it. Rankyaku was used, rather than in its offensive form as a slicing wind blade, it was turned into a cycling, revolving fan, creating sharp, accelerating winds that acted as the medium for the balls of water to spin.

There was no longer any doubt in his mind. The boy in front of him had mastered the Rokushiki Arts, or at least, mastered Rankyaku and Shigan. Not only that, his understanding of Fishman Karate, and what appeared to be elements of Fishman Jujutsu… 

Where the hell… did a Monster like this come from? 

“Glock: Stream Snipe.”

A light gust of wind travelled from one of the rapidly spinning balls of water, moving towards him. Garp’s Observation Haki saw a split-second vision of his entire body being sliced in half. He dashed out of the way.

A fraction of a second later, three of the nine balls of water combined and formed a sharp, piercing jet. The water jet pierced the ground like a razor moving through half-melted butter. It pierced it, gouging deep into the soil, before it zoomed off into the distance, splitting everything that came in its path perfectly in half.

…What in the…? 

An attack designed for lethality. All of the boy’s attacks were created clearly with no other intent but to kill. One hit, one kill. Garp was certain that with his Armament Hardening, he could have withstood the attack, but… Armament Hardening was often weaker against piercing attacks as opposed to blunt attacks and slashing attacks. 

“Hey, the hell you think you’re doing? I told you not to fucking move.”

The boy snapped.

Garp began, “Why—”

“Why?” Noah's voice was dripping with mockery. “Are you joking? You’re asking me why? I’m a Celestial Dragon. Up in Mariejois, they use pregnant bitches for target practice just because it’s Tuesday. There isn’t a reason. There doesn’t need to be a reason. Did you somehow think you were exempt from that? That you were better than those poor fucks? Huh?!”

Something in Garp’s stomach twisted. 

“Yeah, you did, didn’t you? It doesn’t matter how many people the World Nobles maim and torture up there, cause they can’t hurt me. Is that what you thought? That you were safe? Cause you’re a golden boy? A fat, fucking sacred cow? Guess what? Noah doesn’t give a shit about your sanctity. Noah doesn’t give a fuck about your accolades. Today, you get to experience what it’s like to be one of the slaves you pretend you can’t see.”

Noah snarled. “So don’t fuckin’ move, old man. Don’t fuckin’ move. Cause each attack you dodge, that’s one slave I’ll kill.”

Garp’s chest tightened.

“Oh, don’t look so fucking down. I’m a philanthropist. For every attack you take like a man, that’s one slave I’ll release. Don’t worry, I won’t tell them Garp the Hero is the reason they earned their freedom. Taking credit for shit you don’t deserve is your whole shtick, after all.”

The insults, the words, they slid over him. Garp had grown inured to those. However, the boy’s claim— 

“Do you mean that?” Garp asked, hoarsely. “You’ll free one slave, for each attack I can withstand?”

“The fuck do I get from lying to you? No, really? Think about the power dynamics between us and use your brain. I don’t need to lie to you,” Noah snorted. “The lives of a bunch of NPCs aren’t worth diddly squat, so freeing them or killing them doesn’t make a difference to me. But they matter to you, don’t they? It makes sense that you care about them. After all…”

The boy shrugged.

“You’re wearing the Marine coat yet still deluded enough to think you’re the good guy.”

Those words coming from a Celestial Dragon stung more than any scathing remark Garp had heard in his life.

“Do you agree to the fucking terms and conditions or do you not?”

Garp’s lips, dry, opened. “...I agree.”

“Now, let’s fucking play! Noah’s Games! On today’s episode: Boomer Vs Bullets! How many attacks can Garp the Hero tank in the name of freedom? Let's find out!”

Noah’s hands went up, his fingers formed into finger guns.

“Glock Secret Technique...”

The air crackled with black lightning.

At the sight of that black lightning that marked one who possessed the Haki of the Supreme King, the sight of the water droplets rotating around Noah clad in Supreme King Coating, Garp grasped at that moment, truly…

“No Russian.”

There was no wisdom to be found with age.

=====)+(=====

Totto Land

“Ah! Mama’s gone on a hunger tantrum again!”

“What caused it now?”

“It happened after she read the newspaper!”

“What could possibly be on the— hey, hey, this can’t be real… right?!”

“It’s front page news! Of course it’s real!”

“Wait, forgot about that for now, we need to focus on feeding Mama!”

=====)+(=====

Wano Country

“Wororororo! Fuhihihi!”

A monstrous beast of a man laughed as he clutched onto a newspaper.

“Get me more sake! I said more!”

His drunken laughter, rough, coarse, and harsh, echoed without end.

=====)+(=====

The Moby Dick

“Is it true…? He’s…?”

“That… no way. He was a monster. There’s no way some upstart managed to pull it off. Right, Gramps?”

“And what’s all this about the Celestial Dragons? Those bastards can’t actually fight, right, Gramps? Gramps?”

An enormous man with a grand white beard sat in silence, as his hands gripped the paper. A paper which had, on the headlines, printed in big, bold letters:

MARINE HERO DEAD.

=====)+(=====

News would spread throughout the Grand Line and the world at large, of a series of events so unbelievable that many doubted it to be true. Some even accused ‘Big News’ Morgan of outright fabrication of details, but the truth was verified from numerous sources, and even the Fleet Admiral himself.

First, there was the attack of pirates upon the Germa Kingdom, causing casualties in the hundreds. The King of the Germa Kingdom, Vinsmoke Judge, openly condemned the attack and spoke of establishing a ‘zero tolerance’ for pirates upon the seas, claiming that each and every last one of them would be eradicated.

Yet, what caused the stir was the details of the attack.

Reportedly, the Hero of the Marines, Monkey D. Garp, had been present at the scene, had been first to arrive to quell the threat—

And he had been killed by the Captain of the Donquixote Pirates, Donquixote Doflamingo.

A pirate who had yet to even fully make a debut in the Grand Line, a pirate who operated primarily in North Blue, had done the impossible and killed the Hero of the Marines.

It was astounding news that broke headlines the world over and sold millions of copies of papers. Every pirate, every marine, every child and every kingdom had their noses buried into their newspapers, as the name Donquixote Doflamingo immediately shot to never-before-seen heights. 

Who was he? How did he do it? What did this mean?

Questions, countless, had burned, and all was revealed. His history, his origins, as a Celestial Dragon were revealed and made public knowledge. His family history, too, was revealed. Details of the man he was, of his life, all of it, became known.

Donquixote Doflamingo became world-famous.

His name became a household name.

Yet, even more astounding, was the fact that such a man, a man who killed Monkey D. Garp—

Had been killed immediately after. Killed, not by the Marines, not by the King of the Germa Kingdom, but by a Celestial Dragon Child.

A Saint.

Saint Jaygarcia Noah.

In an exclusive interview with the King of the Germa Kingdom, Vinsmoke Judge publicly provided his statement: 

“It was to my horror that even a so-called Hero of the Marines lost his life that pirate… my family, my beloved daughter Reiju, was in danger, and if it were not for Saint Noah… I fear what would have happened to her.”

Statements were also provided by the Vice Admiral Tsuru, who arrived later, and remarked solemnly: “Yes. It’s true. Saint Noah did kill Doflamingo, who killed [...] my colleague, Garp.”

For at a place where one hero fell…

Another hero arose.

Saint Jaygarcia Noah. 

The Hero of Germa.  

The Avenger of the Marine Hero.

A correspondent to the Saint, a member of the elite Cipher Pol, was able to get a statement from the newfound Hero of Germa. The boy, despite his young age, was incredibly well-educated and well-spoken, and was quoted saying:

“The scourge of piracy on these seas has grown unchecked for too long, leading to the rise of villains who have taken from us our beloved Hero, Garp. It is why I have sworn that I will do all that I can to see to it that the fire of this age of piracy born by the Pirate King will be snuffed by my hands.”

“Pirates world over, clutch your pillows and sleep with one eye open. Those of you who would think yourselves kings, the likes of Shiki, Charlotte Linlin, Kaido and Edward Newgate, know in your hearts the unease you have inflicted on innocents. Know that your days are numbered.”

“Tremble and know fear—”

“For Noah is coming.”

PART I - END