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Chapter 380: Give Me a Chance
Chapter 380: Give Me a Chance
"Zeff?"
The name made Koby freeze. "Zeff? Who's that?"
"You two, step outside first."
Garp waved at Koby. "Old man wants to talk privately with Kuro."
"Understood."
Koby and Helmeppo nodded, exiting the room first.
Kuro also gestured, signaling Lida and Klah to leave.
Once they were alone, Garp leisurely sipped his tea, then grabbed a senbei and took a bite. Suddenly remembering something, he turned to Kuro. "Want one? They’re delicious!"
Aren’t you supposed to talk about Zeff?!
Kuro twitched his lips, suppressing the urge to roar. "What’s going on?"
"Huh? Oh right, Zeff. He retired from the Navy, hahaha! An old man retiring to establish a new Navy alone, aiming to eliminate all pirates worldwide!"
Garp laughed so hard tears nearly streamed down his face.
"Aren’t you older than him, Garp?"
Kuro glanced at the laughing Garp, narrowing his eyes. The old man’s hair had changed completely since they last met. Once silvery-white, it was now a dull, grayish white.
Has his fighting spirit finally faded?
Meeting Kuro’s gaze, Garp’s laughter faded. He gently set down his senbei, his expression turning solemn.
"The reason he retired was because the World Government conscripted the pirate who killed his student ten years ago, appointing him as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. You’ve heard about it, right? Especially since Borsalino visited you back then."
"Yeah, I know that guy. Whitebeard II."
Kuro scratched his head, annoyed. "I patrolled the West Blue too, but couldn’t find him."
Of course he’d patrolled the West Blue. Zeff had once been his mentor, and he owed him respect. Truthfully, Kuro couldn’t bear the thought of an elderly man in his seventies leaving the Navy to start a new one alone, wandering the seas in his frail age.
But he’d failed to find him.
The Grand Line was vast, and without World Government intelligence, where could he search?
If even Gramps couldn’t find him, how could I?
"World Government, really. Could they at least do something reasonable?" Kuro sighed.
"So, old man felt a bit restless. Since you never returned to Headquarters, I decided to tag along with Koby and visit. Besides, your island’s famous now—the Hot Spring and Song and Dance Island or whatever."
Kuro bit his cigar, smirking. "Stay as long as you want. I’ve got plenty of entertainment here."
He hadn’t wasted these eight months.
Once he decided to develop Pegasus Town, he committed fully. After Dual Horse Country’s King Alexander Francis sent people over, Pegasus Island thrived. With a population boom, hot spring facilities were built rapidly, attracting merchants due to the peace, spreading the island’s reputation.
Originally, he’d only planned hot springs, but half the Kabuki performers from Dual Horse Country insisted on coming to perform. Over time, the island became known for both hot springs and traditional song and dance performances.
Development required a safe environment. In West Blue’s mafia-ridden territories, every business paid protection fees—a legal yet untouchable practice beyond World Government’s reach. But Kuro was different. He eradicated such threats first.
Though Pegasus Island had no such issues post-war, Kuro ensured none would arise. Peace was the foundation for growth.
As the island prospered, the town’s area became insufficient. Kuro partnered with Lida to expand it.
Their arrangement was simple: she funded the projects, Kuro handled negotiations, and profits were split equally. Their main income? Renting out newly built facilities to entrepreneurs.
Of course, Klah managed the details.
Though the Navy didn’t lack funds, Kuro never refused extra income. It made life far more comfortable.
This was his ultimate dream.
The town now boasted diverse entertainment and restaurants. He indulged in gourmet meals daily, strolling to inspect his properties, dining at upscale restaurants while watching song and dance performances.
As the island’s landlord, he never paid. Shopkeepers refused his money, so he eventually gave up.
Life couldn’t be better.
Only one regret remained—he’d failed to date any beauties. He’d spot them, but whenever he tried approaching, they vanished, replaced by Lida. Strange.
"Hahaha, old man won’t be shy then! But Kuro, while I can vacation here, you must return to Headquarters for your report."
Garp told Kuro, "Calling you always went to voicemail or got ignored. If your subordinates hadn’t occasionally answered, Headquarters would’ve thought you’d met trouble on Pegasus Island."
"My subordinates?" Kuro glared.
His first thought was Kas, the bearded major promoted after capturing too many pirates.
"Klah, your deputy?" Garp replied.
Kuro twitched. He’d forgotten.
Marine Branch bases typically had a base commander (Commander or Commodore rank) and two deputies (usually Commander rank, though exceptions existed—Smoker’s deputy Tashigi was once a sergeant). Kuro’s deputies were Lida and Klah, but Lida rarely worked, leaving Klah as the sole active deputy.
To avoid returning to Headquarters for promotions or reports, Kuro dragged his feet. He’d answer calls with vague excuses—"Busy today" or "Gotta hunt pirates tomorrow."
Eventually, he stopped answering, letting Klah handle everything.
When Headquarters stopped calling, he thought they’d finally forgotten him.
Until this stubborn old man arrived.
"Can’t I skip? I’m exhausted from pirate hunts lately. I’d prefer a long vacation." Preferably eternal.
"Hahaha! That’s Koby’s job, old man!" Garp waved, munching senbei again.
"But you still must return. Sengoku asked me to drag you back personally before I left. If you don’t report soon, the World Government will intervene."
Kuro’s lips tightened. He stared at Garp, voice low. "Give me a chance."
"Huh?"
Garp blinked, confused. "How?"
"I want to stay here. Stationed on Pegasus Island forever. I don’t want to go to Headquarters. I just want to be a Commander."
"Hahaha! Tell that to Headquarters and see if they agree. This isn’t my mission—it’s Koby’s. I’m just here to drag you back." Garp laughed.
"So no negotiation?" Kuro straightened, glaring.
"None." Garp nodded.
"Fine!"
Kuro slumped back, sulking.
He wouldn’t argue with a seventy-year-old. After all, returning for a report was easy. Once done, he’d come back.
He’d stayed calm and peaceful for eight months. At this rate, safety would last indefinitely.
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