Klein got straight to the point. "This set of techniques is profound and extensive. I poured my heart and soul into it, spending over ten years of grueling effort to finally develop this unique martial art!"
"I'm only selling it to you for 50 million Berries because we're tight like that."
"I hope you won't let your big bro down. One day, make this martial art famous across the seas!"
"Bro, trust me!" Garp slapped his well-developed chest.
With full confidence, he shouted, "I'll definitely make the name of this martial art echo across the seas!"
Klein forced himself to suppress a smirk and keep a straight face as he reached out to pat Garp's shoulder...
Originally, this was supposed to be a touching, motivational moment.
But the massive height difference ruined the vibe!
Garp was around three meters tall, while Klein was only 1.9 meters. Just raising his hand to pat Garp's shoulder was a workout.
Why are you people all so tall!?
It's worse than juicing!
He remembered how in his past life, some webnovels had popularized "doping." If it meant growing taller, then sure—inject him ten times a day!
"Ahem—" Klein adjusted his tone. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"
He didn't withdraw his hand. For origınal chapters go to 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕·𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎·𝚗𝚎𝚝
Instead—sneak attack!
His fist cracked down on Garp's head, instantly raising a huge red bump.
"Ow ow ow!!" Garp squatted down, both hands on his head, not daring to even touch the spot Klein had just hit.
Moments later, his tiger-like eyes went wide as he glared at Klein, furious. "You damn ponytailed bastard!!"
"You've got no honor!!"
Garp clenched his fists, about to retaliate—but Klein cut in immediately.
Klein crossed his arms. "That was to let your body directly experience the power and technique of this punch!"
"Is called the Fist of Love!!"
Don't laugh. I'm a professional.
No matter how funny it is—I won't laugh. Unless I really, really can't help it!!
Klein knew how funny it was, but in front of Garp, he had to maintain his image.
He never imagined the day would come... when he'd use the Fist of Love to knock Garp on the head!!
"Fist of Love??" Garp looked completely dumbfounded. But the pain stabbing through his skull wasn't imaginary. "That really hurt..."
He stared dead at Klein, gritting his teeth. "Bro, I'm calling you bro, but are you sure you're not scamming me?"
"This is how the technique is taught???"
If Klein dared say "no," Garp would throw everything aside and go down swinging.
Klein pouted. "Oh, my foolish otouto. You think I'm scamming you?"
"Didn't you feel the thick, passionate love from your big bro in that punch?"
"Relax, you already signed the IOU. The Fist... I guarantee you'll master it!"
In the anime, Garp often used the Fist of Love to "educate" Luffy and Ace.
Yet no one could deny it—those two became legendary: one a Fire Fist, the other a Rubber Fist.
Their names resound across the seas!
Just because they became MVPs—does that mean you can erase Garp's contribution?
Klein spoke earnestly. "The key to the Fist is willpower!"
Another punch landed, forming a row of bumps on Garp's head like a string of glossy candied hawthorns.
With a hint of purple!
So red it turned purple!!
"OWWWWW!!" Garp let out a pitiful shriek.
A cry so miserable, it could make the listeners weep.
But under Klein's guidance, Garp's innate talent began to shine—he started noticing the technique behind the punch, the will it carried...
It was extraordinary!
His head really hurt! Like, burning agony. No—soul-piercing pain!
Just as Klein was about to go in for another head-bonk, Garp quickly raised his hand to stop him, pleading:
"Isn't there another way to teach this!?"
After a day of training, his head would look like a Buddha statue—all bumps!
"Ahem. Well, you see, it's my first time teaching the Fist of Love, too. Gotta go through an adjustment period." Klein looked at the growing swell on Garp's head.
He almost lost it. Nearly burst out laughing.
But man, keeping a straight face for this long was starting to hurt.
Hearing this, Garp's face turned as dark as a burnt pot bottom. His eyes brimmed with resentment...
Even through the air, Klein could feel the anger.
Klein tried to keep a straight face. "That's the fire! Let it rage!"
"Channel it into your fists—ignite your strongest will..."
With a punch brimming with Garp's boundless rage and resentment, a surge of force burst forth, rippling through the air.
The moment he threw that punch, Garp felt something was different. There was a new weight to it.
He lit up with joy, momentarily forgetting the pain on his scalp. "It actually works! My punches feel stronger!"
"The Fist of Love is just the start. There's way more to this martial art—like the move that beat you before: Fistbone: Impact."
Klein was really feeling the "strict mentor" vibe for the first time.
Smacking Garp's head was ridiculously satisfying!
Garp weakly asked, "Bro~ can you maybe... not hit the head? Maybe somewhere else?"
His voice had totally lost its usual thunder that could burst eardrums.
"Are you trying to teach me how to do my job?"
Klein furrowed his brows, his face stern. His sharp gaze locked onto Garp. "Bro's doing this for your own good!"
"This is the only way for you to gain a thorough understanding and feel for the martial art—so you can master it faster."
"And no using Tekkai for defense."
"...Fine." Garp's face darkened. "I'll risk it all for this technique!"
Another headshot. Garp howled in pain again.
Later that night, when they returned to their quarters—
Sengoku was practicing calligraphy but paused when he looked up and saw Garp.
Garp's body was bare, but his head was wrapped tightly in cloth, leaving only his face visible. A large swelling bulged through the fabric.
Sengoku raised an eyebrow. "Garp, what's under that thing on your head?"
"......" Klein bit his lip hard, struggling not to laugh.
Garp gave Klein a resentful side-eye, then quickly turned off the light. "Nothing. Let's just go to sleep early."
"We still need to do massage." Sengoku stared suspiciously at Garp, eyes sharp.
Something's off about this guy!
"You go ahead. I'll skip today." Garp dashed into the bathroom, stared at his reflection—his scalp a minefield of lumps—and his tiger eyes welled with mist.
"When I master this martial art... I swear no one will ever laugh at me again!!"
But as the water hit the bumps left by Klein's fists, Garp winced in agony.
After his bath, he wrapped his head, got into bed, and pulled the blanket over himself.
Meanwhile, Sengoku lay on his stomach while Klein worked his back, using his elbows to deliver a deep, satisfying massage.
Sengoku couldn't help but ask, "Klein, what's up with Garp today?"