Top of the class.
It didn't come with any material rewards, but for the Marines present, that title was more valuable than any prize.
After all, just by entering the Officer Training Camp, they were already halfway through the door to becoming high-ranking officers. Their futures were set to be pillars of Marine Headquarters.
What they lacked—was recognition.
Think for a moment about who had taken the "top of the class" title in previous years, and its weight became clear.
The first training camp had two joint top graduates: Borsalino and Sakazuki, both now Rear Admirals, both referred to as "monsters."
The second: "Hero's Son" Monkey D. Dragon, also a Rear Admiral.
If someone could seize that title now, they'd instantly be placed on equal footing with those legends.
Even if they didn't take the top spot, the ranks below—second, third, all the way to fifth—were still worth fighting for. No one wanted to be left unnamed.
Everyone here was a genius, a carefully selected elite from Marine branches across the world. And being in their early twenties, they were at the peak of youthful pride—none of them willing to play second fiddle.
With that in mind, glances began to shift toward Daren and Kuzan. Some subtle, some bold. But all full of challenge.
"Alright, time to draw lots,"
Zephyr took in their stares and posturing with a faint smile.
He pulled a bundle of small, crumpled slips from his coat and opened his broad, calloused palm.
"There are fifteen of you. These slips are numbered one through seven. If you draw the same number as someone else, you'll face off. Fourteen of you will fight in the first round."
"That also means one of you will get a "pass" and move on directly."
No one objected—after all, luck was part of strength.
Especially on the battlefield, where a stray shell could decide your fate at any moment.
"Daren, I hope I get to fight you in the first round!"
Kuzan clenched his fists, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Daren smiled. "Same here."
He was genuinely curious about Kuzan's strength.
Right now, Kuzan wasn't yet the powerhouse Admiral he'd become. His power was still developing—this might be one of the few opportunities to give him a hard time.
Nearby, Tokikake had his arms crossed and was muttering softly to himself:
"Please not Daren, please not Daren..."
He hadn't forgotten how he and Gion had been tormented in the North Blue. Daren's style of combat was brutal—like fighting a wild beast.
That memory still made him shudder.
Then his gaze flicked to Kuzan, who was stretching with wild enthusiasm, and he added:
"Not Daren or Kuzan, not Daren or Kuzan..."
Getting either of them in round one would be immediate elimination.
The humiliation of losing straight away?
"Genius Tokikake of HQ eliminated in the first round!"
Absolutely not.
He stepped forward with trembling hands, stared at the slips for a while, then hesitantly chose one.
"Not Daren or Kuzan, not Daren or Kuzan..."
He muttered as he opened it—just loud enough for Zephyr to sigh.
"I got a pass!!!"
Tokikake suddenly shot both arms into the air, proudly displaying the number "8" on his paper. His grin stretched almost to his ears.
Silence fell.
Everyone turned to look at him. Tokikake froze in place.
"..."
"Ahem..."
He coughed, expression shifting instantly into a solemn mask.
"What I meant was... truly unfortunate."
Hands behind his back, he sighed deeply with the air of a man burdened by fate.
"I had hoped to face masters like Daren or Kuzan right off the bat... but it seems I'll have to wait until the next round."
He swept his eyes over the crowd, cape fluttering dramatically.
"Good luck, everyone. I'll be waiting in round two."
Everyone: "..."
Zephyr: "..."
Gion groaned and covered her face.
Daren's mouth twitched.
"Commander Tokikake..."
Kuzan walked over to Daren, full of admiration, eyes glued to Tokikake's melodramatic pose.
"That was so cool!!"
Daren, Gion, Zephyr: "..."
...
Soon, the results were revealed.
Tokikake had the Pass and advanced directly.
Kuzan drew number "1." His opponent: Doberman, Captain of Marine Headquarters and former East Blue Admiral.
Gion drew number "2." Her opponent: Commander Mozambia from the West Blue.
Daren vaguely remembered Mozambia. He was the poor guy who got controlled by Doflamingo during the Seven Warlords meeting and ended up attacking his fellow Vice Admirals. Among them, his strength ranked low.
Daren quietly opened his own slip.
The number: "5."
"Number 5... Looks like your opponent is me, Commodore Daren."
A deep voice came from behind.
Daren turned to see a tall, well-built man in a cloak, saber at his waist, and draped in spotted dog fur.
Dalmatian. A Commander from the Grand Line. A future Vice Admiral.
"I've heard your name plenty."
"The man who killed Byrnndi World. They say you're a monster... I want to see how far I still have to go to reach you."
Dalmatian's gaze burned with focus. His pupils slowly shifted—turning from black to golden-brown slits, like those of a dog.
A feral energy radiated from his body.
Daren remained calm and smiled.
"I won't let you down, Commander Dalmatian."
"Alright, let's begin the duels in order," Zephyr announced once everyone had found their match.
"In these duels, you may use any weapon or Devil Fruit power. There are no rules."
"I expect all of you to fight with everything you've got."
He raised his hand.
"First match—Kuzan versus Doberman!"
"Step forward!"
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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