At The Peak of One Piece

Garp departed. The crowd dispersed, carrying tales of the duel. Rebecca took Granny Tsuru to pay respects at the grandmother's grave before they too left. 

Victor reflected on the battle. His swordsmanship had sharpened—stripped of flashy moves, refined for efficiency. Observation Haki reactions improved. The Swift-Swift Fruit revealed new applications: speed infusion could now flow into his blades. 

'Imagine accelerating mid-swing—unpredictable, lethal.' Garp himself had nearly been caught off-guard. The gains outweighed the bruised face. 

"Growth demands facing the strong," Victor mused. 

Yet regret lingered. 'Never felt Garp's Armament Haki. Must I wait for Marine training?' His blades had nearly shattered against those fists. True swordsmanship needed Haki fusion. Without it? Peak fighters remained beyond reach. 

After thinking, Victor hunted in the forest—dinner for Tsuru. Fate's hand felt undeniable: Rebecca's link to Tsuru, his boarding Garp's ship. 'Was this transmigration preordained?' 

Time remained. Akainu, Aokiji, and Kizaru were still Vice Admirals. With effort, he could beat them to Admiral. 'Might edge one out.' 

Steps were clear: rise to Vice Admiral through merit, amass combat power, seize an Admiral vacancy. His strength guaranteed the rank; only feats and timing mattered. 

That evening, Tsuru and Rebecca returned, eyes red-rimmed. Victor served dinner silently. Tsuru knew of Garp's offer; no invitation was needed. They ate in quiet companionship. 

Tsuru stayed with Rebecca. Victor retreated to his home. 

In the days awaiting Garp's return, Victor scoured the island for rare metals. Better swords were essential—without Armament Haki, holding back stifled him. 

'Marine HQ will have resources—even meteorite ore.' But here? Nothing. Rare materials birthed rare blades; their scarcity made sense. 

Rebecca showed Tsuru the island's charms. Out of uniform, Tsuru radiated grandmotherly warmth—savoring local food, admiring vistas. 

Victor discreetly pondered his Devil Fruit. Mental experiments bloomed: 'All speed-related concepts.' Still nascent, his power now steadily enhanced external objects. Thrown daggers became lethal streaks—a future arsenal. 

'Where are the limits?' Victor wondered. '100x acceleration? Unimaginable.' At such velocity, even Charlotte Katakuri's future-sight Observation Haki would crumble. See the blow? Couldn't dodge. Charge Armament Haki? Too late. 

Foresight would fail. Battles would hinge on whose Haki proved tougher, attacks fiercer. He'd dictate the flow—advancing or retreating at will. 

Like the Moa Moa no Mi, which magnified objects and speed 100-fold. The Swift-Swift Fruit felt like its lesser kin. 

'But the Moa Moa has flaws', Victor reasoned. 'Only affects touched objects—not living beings. That constraint cripples its potential.' 

"Besides, my Swift-Swift Fruit's abilities are self-applicable, and i still don't know its limits. Calling it an 'inferior fruit' is premature." 

A week later, Garp finally returned, and it was time for Victor to leave the island. He sighed, unsure if he'd ever come back. 

Truthfully, he hoped he wouldn't have to. As a Marine, his duty was hunting pirates—and if they learned his origins, the island could become a target. 

Look at Chinjao, who took revenge on Garp by targeting his grandson. Or Shiki, who tried to wipe out the entire East Blue to spite Roger. And then there was Zephyr, who sought to destroy the New World in his crusade against pirates. 

So Victor likely wouldn't return. He'd even warned Mayor Andre not to publicize their identities—better to keep a low profile. 

"That brat Dragon! Dropped off Luffy and vanished again. Next time I see him, he's getting a fistful of love!" Garp grumbled to Tsuru. 

"Luffy? Monkey D. Luffy? Your grandson's name?" 

"Hahaha! Yeah! That kid's a riot! I'll train him into a fine Marine one day!" Garp laughed, seemingly unbothered by his son's antics. 

"Where's that Victor kid? We're heading back to Marine HQ—he ready?" 

"Saying goodbye to the townsfolk. He'll be here soon." 

Moments later, Victor and Rebecca appeared, trailed by a massive crowd. The islanders were proud of them for joining the Marines—though uneasy about losing their protectors. 

Victor had advised Anders to train a militia with the local Marine base's help. With their guardians leaving, it was the only option. 

As they boarded Garp's dog-headed battleship, the crowd waved farewell. This might be the last time for decades... 

The voyage was smooth—no pirate dared attack Garp's ship. They occasionally docked to pick up promising recruits from branch bases. 

At Loguetown, Victor looked for Smoker but found no trace. '"Guess he's already at HQ."' He settled for shopping before leaving. 

Taking the Reverse Mountain route, Victor marveled at the Red Line's sheer scale—its peak vanished into the clouds. 

The ship rode the upward current, breaching the clouds where freezing temperatures flash-froze spray into falling ice crystals. Newbies white-knuckled the rails; Victor remained calm, admiring the spectacle. 

'"Man-made? Natural? Either way, it's too deliberate..."' 

Beyond the mountain lay Twin Capes, but Crocus was nowhere in sight. The ship sailed on, and Victor—for once—did nothing. No training, no scheming. Just Observation Haki and the view. 

For the first time, he could just exist.