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The warm morning sun shyly peeked through the clouds, casting golden rays over Windmill Village as gentle cooking smoke curled into the sky.
Under this soft light, the village was peaceful and tranquil, like a paradise untouched by the troubles of the world.
These past few days, Atlas had been lounging around Makino's bar. After scaring off the mountain bandit Higuma, Makino had grown much fonder of him.
She even quietly gave him a discount on his tab, which helped him save a considerable amount of money.
Still, such idle days weren't his style, and boredom was setting in. Atlas wasn't one to sit still, so he started planning a "chance" encounter with Garp and Ace up at Mt. Colubo.
Maybe he could even convince Ace to join the Marines in the future. Once the idea took hold, he acted immediately. With long strides, he made his way toward the mountain...
—A few hours later—
Atlas stood with a helpless expression, staring at a large tiger growling a warning at him.
If he remembered correctly, this beast would one day become the king of Mt. Colubo—and it had given Ace and his brothers quite a hard time.
"Shoo, shoo, don't block my way," Atlas said impatiently, waving his hand dismissively.
Whether or not the tiger understood him didn't matter—he was going to walk past it. The tiger's growl deepened, and its fur bristled as if charged with static.
Atlas didn't care. Suppose it lets him pass, fine. If not… well, he wouldn't mind tasting tiger meat for once.
The tiger sensed his intent, as it continued growling without attacking.
Atlas circled it and activated his Observation Haki to avoid obstacles and bothersome wildlife along the way. With that, the journey became much smoother.
Although he didn't know exactly where Dadan's place was, heading toward the mountain's centre couldn't be too far off.
After several hours of wandering, Atlas finally picked up Garp's presence using his Haki.
"Hey! Old Man Garp! You've been tough to find. So, when are we heading out?" Atlas called out as he approached.
There, he saw a little boy with black hair, large monolid eyes, and a few freckles. Despite the freckles, his face radiated innocence and charm—this was young Ace.
Ace was tugging on Garp's short beard, laughing and calling out "Gramps!" while Garp looked at him with amused affection.
In just a few days, the two had gone from strangers to a cheerful grandfather-grandson pair.
Ace, being the son of the Pirate King, was naturally bold and unafraid of strangers, and quickly warmed up to Garp.
"Hahaha! Atlas, you little rascal, how'd you find this place? This here's my grandson, Ace!" Garp boasted, lifting Ace high above his head.
Wide-eyed and curious, Ace studied Atlas closely.
"Hey, little Ace! Come on, say 'Uncle Kanos'—go on, be good!" Atlas grinned mischievously.
That would make him the same generation as Roger and Whitebeard. Someday, even Luffy would have to call him uncle.
The thought alone brought tears of laughter to his eyes. But Ace, sensing Atlas' teasing tone, immediately turned and buried himself in Garp's chest, ignoring him.
Atlas didn't mind and continued teasing Ace until the boy nearly burst into tears—then he finally let up.
"So, Old Man Garp, when exactly are we leaving?" Atlas asked again.
"In a few days. When we pass through Loguetown, I'll drop you off there," Garp replied offhandedly, remembering Captain Randall's request.
Over the next few days, Atlas alternated between teasing Ace and hunting around Mt. Colubo to satisfy his appetite.
Dadan's gang helped with processing the meat, and he gave them pelts and fangs as thanks.
Happy days flew by quickly, and before long, it was time to leave Windmill Village. Every villager, young and old, came down to the harbour to see Garp off.
Whether they admitted it or not, they all knew the village's peace was thanks to his protection.
After checking the supplies and crew, the Marine battleship with its iconic doghead prow slowly pulled away from shore.
The villagers shrank into distant specks, then vanished from view... Life at sea was monotonous and dull, so Garp resumed his training sessions with Atlas.
Atlas tore off his Marine uniform, baring his muscular upper body, his well-defined, fat-free frame gleaming under the sun.
Opposite him stood Garp, dressed in his usual gray-and-white suit.
"Hahahaha! Brat, last time I taught you the power of will. Even if you still don't fully get it, don't worry—today I'll show you how to unleash your full strength!" Garp laughed heartily.
It sounded simple enough, but the technique was terrifyingly effective.
Take Atlas, for example: his raw strength might be 100, but when he punched, he could only deliver 70 or less.
The rest was wasted. What Garp wanted to teach him was how to hit with 120 using that same 100.
"Bring it on, Vice Admiral Garp!" Atlas, understanding the value of the lesson, didn't hesitate.
Garp was one of the greatest powerhouses of the old era, conquering countless foes with his iron fists. Most pirates quaked at his name—and he was still in his prime.
His combat experience and technique were well worth learning. The other Marines aboard were drawn to their sparring.
Some hoped to learn something themselves; others just appreciated the break from the monotony of sea travel.
Swish!
One-Sword Style: Waterfall Slash!
Atlas brought his blade down from above. Garp's hand suddenly turned jet black—Armament Haki!
Boom!
Their attacks collided. Garp didn't budge, while Atlas was forced back several steps, barely keeping his footing. The difference in power was obvious.
"Again!" Atlas called, undeterred. He closed the distance.
One-Sword Style: Bird Pierce!
Garp stood still, seemingly wide open, but his chest turned black beneath his clothes—localised Armament. His right fist swung up in a powerful hook aimed at Atlas's head.
Startled, Atlas drew back his blade just in time to block the blow. Barely.
Their battle continued for over an hour, ending with Atlas collapsed on the deck, bruised and exhausted. But his exceptional talent allowed him to absorb everything.
These sparring sessions continued over the next few days, providing the crew with something to discuss during meals and livening up the journey.
.....
East Blue.
The massive doghead battleship cruised lazily over calm waters. Seagulls flitted across the clear sky.
It was the kind of day that made you want to nap, if you ignored the bumps all over Atlas's head and the awkward stares from the crew.
"What's the next island we're passing?" Atlas asked, stopping a Marine walking past.
He'd been away from Loguetown for a while, and he was starting to miss the place, especially Captain Wright and Smoker. Atlas's feelings toward Wright were complicated.
Wright was the first person he met after arriving in this world, and had helped him a lot during his early days in the Marines.
Whether openly or behind the scenes, Light had always been there for him, like an older brother or even a father figure. Atlas was truly grateful to him.
"Ah? We'll be reaching Shimotsuki Village soon," the Marine replied, a bit confused but honest.
He respected Atlas's talent and effort, even if the guy looked a little silly at the moment.
"Shimotsuki Village... Shimotsuki..." The name sounded familiar to Atlas.
Then it hit him—this was where Zoro had trained as a child! He frowned, thinking deeply about something.
A few moments later, Atlas's brow relaxed. He strode into the dining hall where Garp was devouring his food.
"Vice Admiral Garp, I'd like to get off at Shimotsuki Village," Atlas said earnestly.
"Huh? Why? Munch munch... You're not going back to Loguetown?" Garp asked, mouth full of meat.
"I heard there's a sword dojo there, and the master, Koshiro, is an incredible swordsman. I've hit a bottleneck with my swordsmanship and want to study there for a while," Atlas explained.
"Please, tell Captain Randall when you pass through Loguetown. I promise I'll return there within a year at the latest!"
Atlas stood and bowed deeply. The bow wasn't just to deliver a message—it was also to thank Garp for taking him in and teaching him without holding back.
"Yeah, yeah... Damn brat," Garp muttered, seemingly annoyed—but his eyes betrayed no displeasure. On the contrary, he was proud of Atlas.
Garp had mentored countless Marines over the years, the most famous among them being Vice Admiral Kuzan, one of the Navy's current monsters.
After all their sparring, Garp was certain—Atlas's potential was no less than Kuzan's, and his sense of justice was just as strong. He would become a pillar of the Marines one day.
After receiving Garp's approval, Atlas returned to his room to pack a few daily essentials and some clothes. He then went to Bogard and asked for some money just in case he needed it.
However, he had no intention of wearing a Marine uniform. After all, in his previous life, he had heard that Koshiro had some connections with the Revolutionary Army.
Atlas wasn't worried that Koshiro would harm him. Firstly, he believed that Koshiro, being a true warrior, had the dignity and self-restraint of a strong man and wouldn't act recklessly.
Secondly, the Revolutionary Army was different from pirates — they weren't the type to senselessly slaughter innocents.
The reason Atlas didn't want to reveal his Marine identity was to avoid being turned away by Koshiro.
After disembarking, Atlas asked the local villagers for directions to Koshiro's dojo. Once he had the location, he tidied up his appearance and began walking toward it.
Koshiro's dojo was located at the centre of Shimotsuki Village. Most of the villagers had trained there at some point in their lives.
Many of them had practised swordsmanship at the dojo when they were young, likely back when Koshiro's father, Koushirou, ran the dojo.
The training fees weren't high, so parents were generally happy to send their children to learn.
In a world as unpredictable and dangerous as this one, having strength was never a bad thing.
Soon, Atlas arrived at his destination: the legendary Koshiro Dojo. He took a moment to examine it.
A low wall surrounded the dojo, and within it stood several buildings — presumably where Koshiro and his family lived.
What puzzled Atlas, though, was the complete silence inside. He didn't hear the usual sounds of sword training. For a moment, he wondered if he had come to the wrong place.
Just as he was about to knock, a loud cry from a newborn broke the silence, and Atlas immediately understood why.
What a coincidence, he thought. This must be the day Kuina was born, which explained why everything was so quiet. Still, Atlas knocked on the dojo gate.
Knock, knock, knock...
The sound wasn't loud, but with Koshiro's sharp senses—or more precisely, his Observation Haki—he should have noticed someone at the door.
Sure enough, the gate soon opened, and a smiling face greeted him. It caught Atlas off guard — he had expected a cold, stern expression.
Based on memories from his previous life, Koshiro had supposedly been disappointed that his child wasn't a boy to carry on the dojo's legacy.
But the rumour was wrong. Koshiro didn't appear to be someone who favoured sons over daughters.
It was likely that he had only said such things to toughen Kuina up — he probably just wanted her to grow up safely.
Unfortunately, he didn't expect her to be so stubborn, and his words had the opposite effect.
"Hello, Mr. Koshiro. I've heard great things about you. I've come here hoping to learn the way of the sword from you," Atlas said directly, getting straight to the point.
"Come in first — we'll talk inside," Koshiro replied with a warm smile, not giving a direct answer yet. Atlas followed him inside, carefully observing his surroundings.
The interior was just as he imagined: a moderately sized training yard at the entrance, likely where disciples practised their swordsmanship.
They soon entered the main hall, where both of them took seats on floor cushions. Only then did they get a proper look at each other.
As Atlas had expected, Koshiro was a gentle-looking middle-aged man who always seemed to wear a smile.
Whether it was because of his daughter's birth or his natural demeanour, it was hard to say.
He wore thin glasses perched on his nose, and his eyes were always slightly squinted, making it hard to read his thoughts.
"My wife just gave birth today, so she won't be coming out to greet guests. I hope you understand."
Koshiro said politely, his tone slightly formal, reminiscent of the Wano Country style of speaking.
"I understand your purpose in coming here. If you don't mind this humble setting, I'd be happy to exchange insights in the way of the sword," he added with a calm smile.
Atlas understood what was going on — Koshiro didn't want to take him on as a disciple formally, but also didn't want to offend the Marines.
So, he offered to let Atlas stay and train without any official commitment. Trying to outmanoeuvre someone like Koshiro was pointless.
With his level of Observation Haki, he probably sensed everything from the moment Garp's ship arrived.
"In that case, I'll humbly accept your hospitality, Mr. Koshiro," Atlas replied.
Since the conversation had already reached this point, there wasn't much else to say. At the very least, it wasn't a wasted trip.
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