Chapter 7: The Strong
"I'm sorry, Solon, I..."
"You don't need to apologize."
Solon interrupted Garp.
"Really. After Dad left, Mom was always in pain. Now that Mom has gone to find Dad and doesn't have to suffer anymore, I think it's for the best."
Looking at him, Solon continued earnestly, "You don't need to worry about me either. I'm going to live a good life. I have a new family now too, Little Irene and Grandpa Doug. They need me, and I'll protect them well."
Garp was somewhat surprised as he looked at the boy bathed in the sunlight before him.
In his memory, his mentor's child had always appeared timid, always hiding behind the adults whenever he saw him.
*Has he grown up?*
Garp thought to himself, feeling surprised, but even more so, deeply gratified.
*Just as expected, a true child of my teacher.*
"Teacher, it seems your sense of justice has someone to carry it on."
Solon carefully scrutinized Garp, who looked somewhat lost in thought: young, with short hair, thick eyebrows, and no beard.
Suddenly, a bold idea welled up in his mind.
"Can I ask a favor of you?"
Garp looked curious.
"Oh? Let's hear it."
"Will you be my big brother?"
"What? I didn't catch that, say it again?"
Garp turned sideways, cupped a hand behind his ear, and deliberately leaned his head forward.
Solon took a deep breath, aimed right at the ear before him, and shouted loudly, "Lieutenant Commander Garp, will you be my, Doglat Solon's, big brother?"
"Heard it, heard it, why are you yelling so loud? Fine, I accept."
Garp scratched his ear in response.
The two of them locked eyes and smiled at the same time.
*Awesome,* Solon thought to himself. *This is in the bag.*
*Awesome,* Garp thought to himself. *This is locked in.*
Meanwhile, the Navy personnel on the ship had already come up behind them.
Garp turned back to look at them.
"You all heard it. He's the one who asked me to be his big brother. By the way, his name is Doglat Solon, Fris's son."
Then, with an unctuous smile, he added, "I didn't force him, you know. He volunteered all by himself, and even asked twice."
The marines looked at Solon with complicated expressions—some envious, some surprised, but mostly filled with pity.
"It's over. Officer Fris only has one son. I just hope the Lieutenant Commander goes easy on him..."
"Why'd this kid have to pick Lieutenant Commander Garp of all people to be his big brother? As much as I'm jealous, the Lieutenant Commander's fists really are hard..."
"The Lieutenant Commander's little brother? I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous at all..." (Grinds teeth).........
"There's going to be a show to watch. How did I forget to bring melon seeds? My miscalculation, total miscalculation..."
While Solon was still lost in his own wild fantasies of triumph, Garp was already plotting how to teach him through his fists.
"Solon."
"Sir."
"Want to become strong?"
The boy pondered for a moment, met everyone's gaze, and slowly said, "Yes."
"Then do you know what the most important prerequisite for becoming strong is?"
Solon looked at Garp in confusion. "Strength?"
Garp shook his head.
"Experience?"
Garp shook his head.
"Conviction?"
Garp paused for a fraction of a second, smiled, and began rolling up his sleeves.
Seeing his movements, Solon suddenly had a very bad premonition.
"Big brother, it's getting late, I should go home and make dinner."
With that, Solon jumped off the stone pier and prepared to make a run for it.
Before he had even turned around and taken two steps, Solon was hoisted up by the collar by Garp.
He wanted to run away so badly, but he couldn't get away.
"Solon, as your big brother, it's my duty to teach you how to become strong."
Sunlight fell upon the coastal pier. Inside a circle formed by a group of naval personnel, a burly man was beating up a child. Cries of agony rang out continuously, making for a gruesome sight.
Garp's fists rained down on Solon as he said, "Learning how to take a beating is the first step to becoming strong."
"Your physical foundation is all right, you just don't eat enough normally. From now on, you must eat five meals a day..."
"Don't worry, I know my own strength, I won't hit your face..."
"Starting tomorrow, every day you'll run around the island three times, do one thousand push-ups, one thousand squats, one thousand duck-walks, and punch the wooden stake three thousand times. Punching rocks is still a bit too early for you..."
Ten minutes later, the sounds of the beating stopped.
Solon lay on the ground like a dead dog, his eyes hollow.
*No, no, this is not the way I wanted to get stronger. I'm a total loser...*
Inwardly, Solon was in agony; outwardly, his body was in pain.
At that moment, the ship's communications officer hurried over and saluted, reporting, "Lieutenant Commander! The patrol boat on our route just spotted several pirate ships. There are many of them, requesting backup."
Hearing the news, Garp cracked his knuckles.
"Perfect, my hands are itching anyway. Everyone, attention! Form ranks, fall back to the ship, double time, march!"
The surrounding navy personnel immediately fell into two neat lines and sprinted rapidly toward the warship at the shore.
Garp hoisted the crumpled Solon off the ground and patted the dust off him, causing Solon to wince in pain.
Garp let out a hearty laugh.
"Hahaha! Not bad, you didn't even cry. You're a real man."
"Oh right, I'll be back on this day next month. During this time, I advise you to eat more and train properly according to my instructions. If your performance next time doesn't reach the standard I expect, I won't mind dragging you along with me to drill you every single day."
Then Garp pulled a thick wad of Beli from his tunic and shoved it into Solon's hand.
"This is your severance compensation. Buy more meat—you have to eat if you want to get strong."
He set Solon down on the ground, turned to face the ocean, and after a moment of silence, spoke with an unprecedented level of solemnity.
"Strive to become strong. In this world, the weak have no qualification to protect the things they hold dear."
Garp's broad back abruptly vanished from sight.
Solon remained standing frozen in place, deeply shaken.
This was a stirring unlike anything he had experienced in all twenty-eight years of his life. The pain radiating from every part of his body was vaguely trying to convey something to him, to explain something—only, he didn't quite understand it yet.
*It seems I have no choice. In this world, the weak truly have no qualification to protect others, or even... the qualification to survive.*
Solon looked up at the warship steaming out of the pier. That imposing figure stood tall at the bow, charging valiantly forward into the churning sea.
*Perhaps, only by possessing strength like his can one face this cruel world without fear.*
He watched the warship gradually disappear from view and murmured softly.
"Getting stronger?"
Little Irene's figure suddenly flashed in his mind, followed immediately by her collapsing in a pool of blood, her face deathly pale as she closed her eyes forever.
*No, I won't accept a future like that. I should know better than anyone how dangerous and cruel this world is.*
At that moment, Solon understood. The pain throughout his body was a manifestation of his powerlessness, proof of his weakness.
"That's why I must become strong."