No wonder they got lost.
Compared to Branch 16, which you could walk around entirely in half an hour, Marineford was simply too big.
Shaded by trees, with winding roads and majestic buildings, the base was constantly filled with squads of Elite Marines chanting slogans as they jogged past, their faces grim and their aura intimidating.
Along the way, the two bumpkins—who had never seen such grandeur before—felt their scalps go numb. They'd stopped who knows how many times, staring open-mouthed and craning their necks upward. They had never felt so small in their lives.
By the time they finally snapped out of their daze, they had completely lost the group.
All around them now were only squads of Marines marching past, boots pounding the ground and kicking up clouds of dust.
Fortunately, an ordinary old Marine wearing a dog-head hat happened to pass by. Seeing them standing there bewildered, he kindly explained the route, and even drew a rough map by hand, worried they might still take a wrong turn.
However…
Even with the map clutched in their hands, the two unfortunates wandered back and forth for ages, still failing to find the new recruit camp, finally winding up at a fork in the road.
"Left? Right?"
Standing at the crossroads, Nezumi, carrying a huge pack, turned to Smoker in confusion. "…Uh, or the one in the middle?"
"How should I know?"
Smoker, cigarette dangling from his lips, rolled his eyes. "We can't even follow a map. I didn't realize before you had a built-in sense of direction failure."
"Then you lead!" Nezumi snapped, shoving the map in his face.
"Don't bother asking for directions anymore," Smoker said, ignoring the map slowly sliding down from his face. He sighed. "We'll just have to find someone to take us there."
"It's so far—who's got time for that…"
Nezumi picked the map back up, scanning the area for someone approachable. Just then—splat!—something cold, sticky, and white landed on his face.
"Bird poop?"
He instinctively looked up.
"It's ice cream," Smoker said lazily, pointing northeast. "Over there."
Nezumi turned his head. There, a little orange-haired girl with twin ponytails was humming a tune, a strange spiral propeller sprouting from her head as she drifted slowly through the air.
In her hand was an ice cream cone, from which drips of melted cream kept falling…
And, as luck would have it—
Splop! A few more drops landed right on Nezumi's forehead.
Nezumi's eye twitched.
"Hey, little brat!"
He glared upward, furious. "Can't you watch where you're going?!"
"Eh?"
The orange-haired girl finally turned her head. Seeing Nezumi's ice-cream-smeared face, she blinked—and then burst into laughter, pointing at him with one hand. "Spotted-face kitty! Patchy cat! Hahaha—!"
"So rude!"
Nezumi stomped his foot in rage, crumpled the map into a ball, and hurled it at her. "Get down here and apologize, you brat!"
Whoosh—
The girl leaned back in midair, neatly dodging the paper ball, stuck her tongue out, and made a face.
"Bleeeh! Can't hit me! Can't hit me! Come up here and chase me, you big stupid patchy cat—!"
Nezumi had no way of getting up there.
Even though he'd trained hard at the Branch 16 to become one of its top recruits and earn the chance to train at Headquarters, he'd never learned advanced techniques like Moon Walk.
"Get down here!"
He shouted up, humiliated. "Let's see if I can't catch you then!"
"Tch, if you've got the guts, come up here!"
"You come down!"
"You come up!"
"You come down!"
"…."
"That's enough already."
Smoker exhaled a puff of smoke, looking sideways at his friend with exasperation. "You're in your twenties. She's, what, four or five? You're really going to pick a fight with a kid?"
"Easier said than done…" Nezumi gritted his teeth. "Brats like this are the worst. If it were you getting teased like this, wouldn't you be mad too…?"
"I don't like brats either."
Smoker's expression didn't change as he spoke calmly:
"But don't forget — this is Marineford, the heart of the Marine. For a little girl that young to be flying around with some strange gadget we've never even seen before… her background probably isn't simple."
Right!
The words snapped Nezumi out of his anger like a bucket of cold water. A chill ran down his spine, and cold sweat started to form.
Just then—
A startled cry came from above. Both of them looked up, only to see that the little orange-haired girl's propeller—like a leaf-shaped rotor—had suddenly stopped spinning. She was plummeting straight down from the sky.
Not good!
Their pupils shrank. Both of them dropped everything they were holding and sprinted forward, arms outstretched.
But they were still too slow. The girl's small body was falling closer and closer to the ground—
Whoosh!
In that instant, a shadow flashed in front of their eyes. The next moment, the little orange-haired girl was safely caught in someone's arms.
They both let out a breath of relief and stopped in their tracks, looking toward the newcomer—only to be surprised.
It was a beautiful young woman.
She was tall, with long pink hair flowing down her back, a pair of light-purple sunglasses resting on her nose, and a sharp, confident air about her that gave her an aura of cool composure.
When she tilted her glasses down to glance at them, Smoker stayed calm—but Nezumi was practically electrocuted by her presence.
"S-so beautiful…"
He clasped his face in both hands, eyes turning into pink hearts as he squirmed like a worm.
Smoker quietly took two steps to the side.
Standing next to this guy was embarrassing.
"Thank you, Sister Hina!"
The little girl—Nami—had clearly been frightened at first, but once she recognized her rescuer, she grinned again and hopped out of the pink-haired woman's arms.
She took off the small propeller device from her head and fiddled with it a few times, but nothing happened. With an annoyed huff, she scratched her hair.
"Ugh! Out of power at the worst time! Whatever, I'll just go home and get my fire slingshot instead…"
Little Nami pouted and turned to leave—but before she could take two steps, a sharp bonk landed on her head.
"Ow!"
She held her head, eyes tearing up. "That really hurt, Sister Hina! Why'd you hit me?"
"What do you think?"
Hina crossed her arms and looked down at her with mild irritation. "I barely tapped you, don't act all pitiful. You made a mistake, so you should apologize. Now go and tell those two uncles over there you're sorry."
Uncles?
Smoker, who had just turned twenty, instinctively rubbed the faint stubble on his chin.
"I'm not gonna!"
Little Nami huffed again, cheeks puffing up like an angry hamster. "I didn't do it on purpose! And besides, my ice cream fell on that creepy old guy's face, and he threw a paper ball at me! That makes us even!"
Creepy old guy…
Nezumi felt like his heart had just been stabbed.
But remembering Smoker's earlier warning, he quickly shook his head and waved his hands. "No need to apologize, really—it's true, I overreacted. I shouldn't have gotten angry with a little kid…"
Nami lifted her chin proudly, her expression saying it all — See? I told you I didn't need to apologize!
"You're getting more and more mischievous," Hina said with a frown. "Brother Nao's spoiled you rotten."
Then her tone turned sly. "So? Are you going to apologize or not? If you don't, I'll just go tell Sister Bellemere everything that happened today."
"Eh??"
Going around Dad and tattling straight to Mom?!
So evil, Sister Hina!
Just picturing Bellemere's furious face made Nami's shoulders slump. She pouted miserably, then trudged back to where Smoker and Nezumi stood, bowed halfway, and drawled in a flat, lifeless tone:
"Soooorryyyy…"
"N-no, no, it's fine! Really!"
Nezumi waved his hands in panic. "Just… be careful next time. I overreacted too — I should be the one apologizing to you…"
Nami peeked up at Hina, eyes darting — Does that count as passing the test?
"So half-hearted," Hina sighed, shaking her head helplessly. She couldn't stay mad at the little girl who'd been raised in such a soft, pampered environment. She reached out and ruffled Nami's hair.
"Go home. Today's new recruit induction day — don't cause any more trouble. Stay with your sister and study a bit, okay? And if I see you out here again flying around on a broomstick, don't blame me for being rough next time."
"Mhm!"
Relieved, little Nami grinned again and skipped happily down the road.
Watching her go, Hina let out a quiet sigh.
She couldn't help but wonder how much the girl had really listened. Growing up in the same home, why is Nojiko so sensible and well-behaved, while Nami's so wild?
Maybe she'd need to find a chance to remind Brother Nao — even if she was a girl, he couldn't keep spoiling her like this.
Right now it didn't show much, but a few more years like this and that bright little thing might grow into a full-blown, headstrong young lady.
Pulling her gaze back, Hina turned toward Smoker and Nezumi.
"You two — new recruits this year?"
Nezumi nodded rapidly, intimidated by her commanding presence.
"And what are you doing here? Got lost?"
Smoker and Nezumi exchanged an awkward glance.
"No need to be embarrassed," Hina said casually, eyes forward again. "Happens all the time. I'm heading back that way anyway — follow me."
That was perfect!
Overjoyed, Nezumi grabbed Smoker and hurried to follow behind her, backpack bouncing with every step.
"Um… are you also in the Elite Training Camp?" Nezumi asked cautiously as they walked.
"Yeah," Hina replied without looking back. "I joined a year earlier than you two. So I guess I'm your senior."
"My name's Hina. You can call me that — or, like the other rookies do, call me Big Sis."
"How could we just call you by name? That'd be rude!" Nezumi declared instantly. "Big Sis!"
Smoker puffed out a small cloud of smoke and said nothing.
This guy really had no shame. Hina was clearly younger than both of them by a few years, yet he was calling her Big Sis without blinking.
There was no way he could bring himself to say that out loud.
"Earlier…"
After they'd walked a while, Smoker couldn't hold it in anymore. "If I heard correctly, you called that little girl's father... 'Brother Nao'?"
"Yes, you heard right."
Hina gave him a sidelong glance. "That little brat's father is the famous Admiral Candidate — the White Dragon, Nao."
"Eh—eh—eh—eh—eh?!"
Nezumi's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he let out a shriek.
"White Dragon Nao?! That little girl just now was Lord Nao's daughter?!"
His reaction was way too over the top, though Hina's face remained completely calm.
Nao's fame was enormous — he had fans all over the world. Over the years, Hina had grown used to the kind of wild, starstruck reactions people had whenever anything even remotely related to him came up.
"Idiot, fool, moron…"
Nezumi groaned, pounding his own forehead with a fist. "What was I thinking just now? I actually yelled at Lord Nao's daughter! If I'd known, I wouldn't have minded being hit by ice cream a hundred — no, a thousand times!"
Okay, that's… a bit much.
Hina shook her head, turned forward again, and quickened her pace, losing interest in the noisy recruit.
She wasn't fond of loud, overreacting types.
But the white-haired recruit — now he was different. Younger, quieter, with a steady, composed air. Interesting, she thought. Once he entered the Elite Training Camp, he might have a promising future.
——
Half an hour later, after walking down a tree-lined avenue brushed with autumn-red leaves, the gate of the Marine Elite Training Camp finally came into view.
"We're here," Hina said, pointing ahead. "There are instructors at the gate to handle new arrivals. Go check in there — I'll leave you two here."
"Got it."
Smoker nodded, speaking in his usual low, even tone. "Thank you, ma— …you."
"Thanks, Big Sis!" Nezumi chimed in eagerly.
Hina just waved her hand and strode away with her usual cool poise. Smoker and Nezumi exchanged a glance — and both couldn't help but smile in relief.
After two hard years of struggle in the East Blue, and all the trouble along the way…
They'd finally made it — to the place they'd dreamed of.
"New recruits!"
A middle-aged man with grass-green hair and a shiny bald forehead was shouting by the gate.
"Boys to the left with me! Girls to the right with Instructor Hathaway!"
He grinned broadly as the group gathered.
"Remember this face, kids! Name's Brandon — unless something goes wrong, I'll be your Deputy Chief Instructor for the next three years!"
"Let's go," Smoker said quietly, taking a deep breath and striding forward. Nezumi hurried to follow.
Despite his short stature and shiny bald head — making him look more like a portly bureaucrat — Instructor Brandon was surprisingly efficient. Within minutes, he'd guided the two through all the enrollment paperwork.
They received their trainee uniforms and dorm assignments on the spot.
"All set."
Brandon beamed. "Go get some rest in your dorms. The camp officially starts the day after tomorrow — the opening ceremony and roll call will be personally led by Mr. Zephyr. Just don't be late that morning."
"Understood, Mr. Brandon."
Exhausted, Nezumi could barely stand. After saying goodbye, he dragged Smoker straight to the dorms, tossed his luggage aside, and collapsed onto his bed.
He was just about to take a nap when he noticed Smoker pulling on his jacket again and heading for the door.
"You're not resting, Smoker?" he asked, puzzled.
Smoker paused at the doorway, sunlight spilling across Nezumi's face as he answered calmly:
"Mr. Nao once said — 'Why sleep long while alive? The dead have an eternity to rest.'"
He stepped out into the light.
"Sleeping on the first day of training camp — what kind of Marine does that? Shouldn't we tour the place first… especially the training grounds?"