Chapter Twenty-Two: The Deal is Sealed

Garp entered the hold and, upon seeing the neatly arranged coffins, felt an overwhelming urge to weep. Moria stepped forward, opened the lid of one coffin, and spoke earnestly, “Take a look. This is the craftsmanship with which we restore the bodies. Consider what you brought us, and now, look at what I’m returning to you.”

Garp leaned over for a closer look, and at once, his spirit was deeply shaken. The remains within belonged to a comrade from his past; they had traversed countless days together, only for the man to perish in battle against the Rocks Pirates. Garp remembered vividly—his old friend had fought the Golden Lion to the death, his features utterly destroyed in the end, and Garp himself had gathered the remains.

Yet now, aside from a difference in skin tone, his old friend looked as though nothing had ever happened. The face was exactly as he remembered, not a single scar upon it, as though the man were only in a peaceful sleep. Garp, known for his iron fists, reached out and gently caressed his comrade’s cheek, unwittingly letting a single tear fall.

“Well, Garp?” Moria’s tone carried a hint of pride.

“Are they all like this?” Garp asked after regaining his composure.

Moria simply pointed at the remaining coffins, motioning for him to look for himself.

Garp spent over half an hour examining each one. Inside lay colleagues and juniors from his past—faces once carved into his very memory. Some had died with their chests pierced, others with limbs shattered. But now, these remains lay before him like works of art, and he could not help but be astonished.

“Your man’s stitching skills are remarkable. What is his name? I must meet him in person and offer my thanks!” Garp declared with utmost seriousness.

“Castie Buffon. As long as you agree to let me enter Impel Down to select a shadow, you’ll meet him soon enough,” Moria coaxed.

“I’ll go discuss it with Sengoku!” Garp replied, then promptly left the hold, leaping back to the warship and ordering a course set for Fortress G1.

Truth be told, even if Moria dared return the corpses used in his experiments, the Navy might not dare take them back. Not only were they a ticking time bomb, but they could also be used as leverage by Moria to stain the Navy’s reputation. No matter how secretly such deals were made, traces would remain for the sharp-eyed to discover. But with these particular bodies, it was different—there was no evidence left, no living witnesses. Moria had brought them as a precaution; if Buffon had already been captured by the Navy when he arrived, these bodies might be exchanged for his return.

Moria basked in the sun on deck for about two hours before Garp’s warship returned, bringing not only Fleet Admiral Sengoku but also the Navy Headquarters Vice Admiral and strategist, Tsuru.

Guided by Garp, the two entered Moria’s ship hold. When Sengoku and Tsuru saw the corpses perfectly restored by Buffon, their reactions were no less profound than Garp’s had been. Tsuru, in particular, walked past each coffin, memories flooding her mind with every familiar face she beheld. With a wave of her fair hand, she activated her Wash-Wash Fruit ability, cleansing the old Navy uniforms on the remains until they shone like new.

“What astonishing craftsmanship. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it was possible for anyone to restore a body so flawlessly. This is nothing short of a miracle.”

Sengoku, though silent, was equally shaken. When Garp had first explained the situation, he had imagined the work only somewhat better than that of an ordinary mortician, but the reality was worlds apart.

An hour later, the three emerged, their expressions solemn and grave. Before Sengoku could speak, Tsuru addressed Moria first: “We can agree to your terms, but we have one more condition.” As the Navy’s strategist, she had the right.

“Let’s hear it,” Moria replied with his usual careless air.

“In the future, all Navy soldiers who fall in battle each year must have their bodies stitched by Castie Buffon himself.”

Moria hadn’t anticipated this condition, but he reckoned Buffon, the corpse-stitching fanatic, would never refuse. Without much hesitation, Moria agreed with a cackling laugh, “Kihihihihi, it’s a deal!”

At this point, Sengoku, who had been silent throughout, finally spoke: “Moria, I ask you once more—was the one who defeated Spider Demon one of your men?”

“No! You know the strength of the Three Monsters, and as for the Zombie Legion, you are well aware they can’t even survive in sunlight!”