Chapter 478: Chapter 478: I, Garp, Will Solo the Entire Battlefield

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Chapter 478: I, Garp, Will Solo the Entire Battlefield

The weightless sensation of teleportation completely vanished. Garp snapped his eyes open.

The pungent stench of gunpowder drilled straight into his lungs. Deafening roars of artillery fire assaulted his ears.

He looked down at his hands. His skin was tight and radiant, completely free of the wrinkles of old age. The damned gray hair was gone. The bronzed muscles bulging across his frame felt like they were stuffed tight with explosives ready to detonate at any moment.

This body was brimming with vibrant, unyielding vitality. He clenched his fists, listening to the crisp, firecracker-like pops of his knuckles.

The God Valley battlefield from thirty-eight years ago. Even the very air seeped with a mad, bloody frenzy.

Beside him, a pile of rubble was violently kicked aside. A dirt-covered Sengoku crawled out of the ruins. He habitually reached up to adjust the seagull cap on his head, only to grab empty air. His black, curly hair was caked in dust. He reached down to stroke his chin, realizing his signature braided beard was gone too. The smooth, bare chin felt incredibly foreign to him.

Looking at Sengoku’s youthful appearance, Garp couldn’t help but bust out laughing. Sengoku brushed the dust off his clothes and looked back at Garp. Meeting each other’s gazes, their smiles stretched from ear to ear simultaneously.

The soul transmigration was a success. Most importantly, they could clearly feel the terrifying power coursing through their bodies. The bottomless, oceanic life force of the Sage Body surged through Garp’s meridians, while the vibrant vitality of Wood Release flowed through Sengoku’s veins.

The two-hundred-million Beri ticket was undeniably worth every penny. That kid Blake actually ran a fair business. Not only did they return to the physical peaks of their youth, but they had also brought along all the cheat-like abilities they’d risked their lives to earn in the previous dungeons. This was literally returning to the beginner’s village with max-level, god-tier gear just to slaughter everything in sight.

A sudden gale swept across the ruined wasteland, kicking up sand and debris. A figure lightly vaulted atop a nearby broken wall.

The man wore a battered straw hat and held a cutlass that was still dripping with fresh blood. His lips were curled into that signature, carefree grin.

It was the youthful Gol D. Roger. The future King of the Pirates. The legendary man who would one day command a staggering bounty of 5,564,800,000 Beri.

Roger cupped his hands and yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice cutting through the roar of artillery fire.

"Garp! What are you doing spacing out over there! That maniac Rocks is about to attack! Stop dawdling! Hurry up and let’s team up to take him down!"

Roger brandished his Supreme Grade Sword Ace, pointing the tip directly toward the terrifying vortex of dark red aura swirling in the center of the island.

Garp slowly raised his right hand, expertly digging his pinky finger into his nostril. His eyes were filled with unbridled disdain.

Team up? Sure, I definitely had to team up with you to win this war back in the day. But that was then. Right now, I’m packing serious cheats.

Garp flicked his booger-coated finger with a sudden burst of force. A dark little projectile shot forward with an ear-piercing shriek, violently tearing through the air current. The booger grazed the very edge of Roger’s straw hat and slammed directly into a massive boulder behind him.

BOOM! With a thunderous explosion, the giant boulder—which would have taken several men to wrap their arms around—was blown to smithereens, sending a hail of debris raining down around them.

The grin on Roger’s face completely froze. He glanced back at the pile of shattered rock behind him, then slowly turned his head to stare at Garp, his eyes screaming, ’What the actual hell?’

Garp roared at the top of his lungs, his voice booming like thunder. "Team up? Who the hell do you think you are, Roger! I didn’t spend two hundred million Beri coming back here just to team up with you! Today, I’m going to beat the absolute shit out of you AND that bastard Rocks!"

Roger was left utterly dumbfounded by the verbal assault. He had no clue what kind of manic phase Garp was going through today. Sure, the old dog was normally hot-tempered, but he had never been this deliriously arrogant. He actually wanted to beat him up too?

Before Roger could retort, the ground across the entire island began to tremble violently. The billowing smoke of gunpowder was forcibly ripped apart by a raging gale.

Several towering figures slowly emerged from the mist. Leading the pack was a hulking young man wielding a massive polearm. The youthful Edward Newgate. The future Yonko, Whitebeard. The monster holding a bounty of 5,046,000,000 Beri.

Floating beside him was an arrogant man with a wild mane of golden hair. Shiki. The future Pirate Admiral of the Golden Lion Pirates, another legendary great pirate with an astronomical bounty.

Next to him was a surprisingly slender woman gripping the Napoleon sword in her hand. Charlotte Linlin. The future Yonko, Big Mom.

These monsters walked side-by-side. Their terrifying Conqueror’s Haki manifested as physical, crimson lightning, wildly intertwining and clashing in the air.

The surrounding rocks were crushed under the oppressive weight of their Haki, fracturing with countless fine cracks. Weaker Marines and pirates immediately foamed at the mouth and fainted.

The main vanguard of the Rocks Pirates had finally arrived.

The young Whitebeard slammed the butt of Murakumogiri heavily into the earth, causing a dull, booming tremor. "Gurararara! Garp! This place will serve as the graveyard for you Marines today!"

The Golden Lion floated mid-air, a cigar clamped in his teeth, his face twisted into an unhinged sneer. "Roger, you’re here too? Perfect! We can exterminate all of you eyesores at the same time!"

Big Mom licked her lips, her tongue sliding out greedily. "I wonder what the souls of these Marines taste like."

Facing these three monsters who would one day shake the very foundations of the sea, Sengoku took a step forward. A blinding, golden radiance began to emanate from his body. The power of his Daibutsu form was awakening within him. He was itching to test out what it felt like to swat pirates using the True Several Thousand Hands.

But Garp stretched out his thick arm, blocking Sengoku. "Sengoku. Don’t interfere yet. Leave these arrogant little brats to me. I’m going to personally teach them how to respect their elders."

Sengoku curled his lip. He knew Garp’s hands were itching for a fight. Since they had spent the money, he figured he should let the old man get his money’s worth. Pulling back the golden light, Sengoku stepped aside, ready to watch Garp put on a show.

Garp twisted his neck violently, his cervical vertebrae popping with teeth-grinding cracks. He took a deep lungful of the blood-scented air. The colossal reserves of Senjutsu Chakra within his body ignited like a dormant volcano erupting to life. A vibrant, green aura of energy flared up from his skin—the telltale sign of the Eight Inner Gates opening.

He took a solid step forward. The bedrock beneath his foot shattered extensively like a fragile biscuit, spiderweb cracks spreading out frantically in all directions. A berserk aura blasted into the sky, forcefully pushing back the combined Conqueror’s Haki radiating from the trio opposite him.

The youthful Whitebeard halted his advance. His grip tightened around Murakumogiri, his gaze turning unprecedentedly grave. He could feel the aura of the Marine named Garp fundamentally shifting. It had become completely alien and lethally dangerous.

The Golden Lion wiped the arrogant smirk off his face, his cigar nearly slipping from his lips.

The ravenous greed on Big Mom’s face rapidly shifted into fearful uncertainty.

Garp slowly raised his right fist. Arcs of blue electricity danced restlessly between his fingertips. A moment later, blinding bolts of lightning completely engulfed his entire arm. Lightning Chakra Mode. The devastating power of thunder seamlessly fused with his Armament Haki, filling the air with the sharp, acidic scent of ozone.

Atop the wall, Roger’s eyes bugged out like brass bells. He had known Garp for years and had never once seen the guy shoot lightning. What kind of Devil Fruit did he eat!? Swallowing hard, Roger suddenly realized that today’s war was going to unfold very, very differently than he had expected.

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