That name was a wound Sol preferred to keep hidden, a scar he never wished to expose.
Whenever the thought of it surfaced—or worse, when the name was spoken aloud—a sharp pang seized his chest, as if his heart might falter under the weight.
But Maude had asked, and Sol was not the type to shroud his past in secrecy. Resolute, he spoke the name without hesitation.
"Monkey D. Garp."
"..."
Maude's expression remained placid, betraying no trace of surprise.
When he first stumbled upon this weapon shop, it had seemed little more than a shady establishment. Yet Shanks' sudden appearance had shattered that notion.
Back then, Shanks was the kind of man whose very sneeze could obliterate him, an overwhelming presence that Maude could scarcely comprehend.
And yet, Shanks had come—deliberately—to this very shop, standing face to face with Sol.
From that moment, Maude had concluded that even if Sol were somehow linked to the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, it wouldn't have been entirely shocking.
The thought had crossed his mind before, but Maude lacked the curiosity to pry into Sol's secrets. He had let it be.
Thus, learning of Sol's connection to Garp, the legendary Navy hero, elicited little more than mild intrigue.
"I've heard of him. A legendary figure in the Navy, they say," Maude remarked, his tone neutral.
It wasn't surprising, Maude reasoned, that the original owner of his body would be familiar with Garp's reputation.
That name, however, made Sol grit his teeth in silent fury.
Yet, when Maude referred to Garp as a legend, Sol didn't lash out.
The truth, after all, was immutable, even when it stung. No matter how fiercely Sol might wish to shove a hundred lead bullets down Garp's throat, he couldn't deny the man's renown: Garp truly was a legend upon the seas.
"Enough. From now on, I don't want to hear that name again," Sol growled, his glare a clear warning.
Then, as if brushing aside an unpleasant memory, he redirected the conversation to the matter at hand—Usopp.
Resting his hand on the weathered frame of the gun, Sol spoke.
"For now, use this gun. And by the way, you should thank Yasopp for giving it to you."
"'Giving' it to me? I won it fair and square in a bet!"
"You fool. If it weren't for my reputation, do you think you'd even get to touch that gun?"
"Right, right. Whatever you say, old man."
Though tempted to argue, Maude reconsidered. Sol likely had a point. Without his connections, neither Shanks nor Yasopp would have spared him a second glance.
Growing weary of the banter, Sol hefted Usopp's grip and raised the weapon slightly.
"Listen carefully, Maude."
"Hm?"
Sensing the shift in Sol's tone, Maude straightened, anticipating an important lesson.
"Humans possess a latent power known as Haki. It's an innate potential, one that requires either training or guidance to awaken."
"Haki is divided into two primary types: Armament Haki and Observation Haki."
"This old gun's unique 'feel' is a residual effect of prolonged exposure to Haki."
Sol deliberately avoided mentioning the third type—Conqueror's Haki. In his estimation, Maude's temperament made the notion laughably improbable.
For now, Sol sought only to introduce the concept of Haki, keeping it within Maude's grasp.
Unbeknownst to Sol, Maude was a reincarnator.
Even so, Maude saw no reason to interject or reveal his knowledge. He absorbed Sol's words earnestly, regardless of their value.
"Armament Haki is beyond you for now," Sol continued. "But Observation Haki—that's something you should start thinking about."
"Observation Haki allows you to sense the presence of others—their numbers, locations, and even their intentions. For a sharpshooter, it's an invaluable skill."
"And you... possess the potential to master it."
Suddenly, Sol raised the gun's barrel, directing a faint yet unmistakable killing intent toward Maude.
The movement was subtle, the intent barely perceptible.
Yet Maude reacted instinctively, leaping several meters back and crouching low, his body moving before his mind could process the threat.
In that fleeting moment, he hadn't even seen the gun pointed at him. His reaction stemmed entirely from observing Sol's movements and drawing an unconscious conclusion.
The trace of killing intent only heightened his senses.
Realization dawned, and Maude's unease deepened.
Instead of ridiculing his exaggerated response, Sol regarded him with quiet admiration.
"Maude, some people awaken Haki instinctively due to their environment, experiences, or innate talent. Your potential in this regard... it's enough to make me jealous."
"..."
Maude remained silent.
He wanted to explain that his reaction was the result of Heart Drop Combat Perception—a heightened sensory technique.
Yet, on reflection, Heart Drop Combat Perception bore undeniable similarities to Observation Haki. It was no wonder Sol believed he had natural talent.
Without warning, Sol tossed Usopp to Maude, who caught it awkwardly.
"Within you lies a potential worth nurturing," Sol said, his tone softening. "But every meal is eaten one bite at a time. And I've got plenty of time, so we'll take it slow."
Maude nodded silently.
At that moment, he could feel Sol's sincerity—a genuine desire to guide him.
The weapon shop, once a mere refuge, had grown into something far more significant.
The people within weren't strangers; they were bonds worth cherishing.
And the debt of gratitude he owed? He would repay it—no matter the cost.
The following day, after breakfast, Sol resumed his long-abandoned morning routine along Pleasure District, a sight that left Maude both exasperated and amused.
It also signaled the end of his "house arrest."
Cooped up for two months, Maude wasted no time. The moment Sol left, he followed suit, heading straight to the Nightshade Bar.
Mad Hat Town's current state demanded his attention, and the Nightshade Bar was the perfect place to gather the information he needed.
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