Dawn's first light broke as sea winds roared.
Outside Marine Headquarters' G-1 Branch, a massive military testing ground buzzed with activity.
Today was the annual 'Special Election Day' for Marine Officer Candidates.
Hundreds of boys stood in formation across the vast stone plaza, their faces etched with tension, ambition, and yearning.
And on the cliffside path at the edge of the testing grounds, a towering shadow stood firm against the wind—forged like molten rock.
Sakazuki.
Clad in his military uniform, his broad shoulders erect, he resembled a silent god of war gazing down upon the plaza's center.
His eyes burned like an impending volcanic eruption, locked onto the boy standing rigidly at attention—Guts.
His nephew.
The last remaining of his bloodline and hope on his path of iron and blood.
Moments earlier—
"...You insist on doing a test like everybody else?" Sakazuki's voice was deep, rough, and restrained, as though it could tear through the air at any moment.
"One word from me and I could have you admitted directly into Zephyr's Special Training Camp."
On the plaza, the sea winds tugged at Guts' thin uniform.
Bathed in the morning light, he stood like an unsheathed blade—sharp and unshakable.
Without turning his head, his voice rang clear.
"I don't need it. I'll make everyone acknowledge me with my own strength."
Sakazuki's brow furrowed slightly.
His emotions were complex to the extreme—contained pride mixed with a barely suppressed unease.
After a moment of silence, Sakazuki asked in a low voice.
"...What's with that aura?"
"There seems to be... some kind of power awakening within you."
Guts slowly turned his head, his expression revealing the stubborn confidence unique to youth.
He opened his right palm.
A silent breeze swirled and condensed in his hand, forming a visible vortex where the air currents traced clear patterns, as if he held the very breath of the world in his grasp.
Guts spoke calmly, "After the disaster in North Blue, during my escape, I found a battered treasure chest in the ruins. Inside was... a strangely shaped fruit. I was starving then, so I ate it without thinking."
He slowly clenched his fingers.
The air trembled in response.
The winds along the entire path seemed to flow according to his will.
"The result—was this."
"Later I heard people call it—a Devil Fruit."
Sakazuki narrowed his eyes, a sharp glint flashing through his scorching gaze.
He pronounced each word carefully.
"Logia Type. Air."
Guts nodded.
His eyes were cold as ice yet burning like fire, "The most fundamental, yet vastest element in the world. Also the most easily overlooked power. But in my hands—it will become the sharpest blade to cleanse this rotten world."
The breeze swept past.
The youth's words, carrying unshakable determination, lingered in the sea wind like the solemn tolling of a war bell.
Sakazuki slowly exhaled a breath of hot air.
At last, his flame-like gaze revealed a deep, restrained pride.
Guts stood under the blazing sun, the sea winds whipping against his slender youthful frame, yet unable to shake the mountain of will forged from his convictions.
He clenched his fist, his voice low but firm, like a sword being drawn.
"If I entered the camp through connections, then my justice would be worthless."
"I'll use my own strength—to make everyone see my power."
Sakazuki remained silent, staring into Guts' eyes that burned with painful intensity.
After a long pause, he suddenly laughed—a bleak, cold laugh—but as he turned to leave, he muttered.
"...Then use your fists and power to beat them into submission."
...
The test had begun.
The entire square was filled with hundreds of recruit candidates from across the world.
Some were tall, some lean; some carried pride between their brows, others hid fear in their eyes.
But without exception, they all understood one thing, 'To enter 'Zephyr's Special Training Camp', they must stand out in this brutal competition.
Here, there was no mercy.
Only strength, willpower, and thresholds forged through blood and sweat.
The basic physical tests began first.
Long-distance running, climbing, weight carrying, combat... Guts completed every challenge in silence.
Without a hint of flamboyance.
Without any showboating.
With an efficiency so cold it was almost mechanical, he broke every record set by his peers one after another.
Under the scorching sun, he was like a sword with its edge deeply sheathed—waiting only to be drawn and tear through the skies.
Yet what truly set the entire square ablaze—was the final event.
[Ability Assessment Demonstration].
...=
Central Square.
Dozens of stone targets stood tall, densely scattered across the field, simulating the harshest battlefield conditions.
Guts stepped slowly onto the demonstration platform.
He stood straight, his slender figure casting a solitary yet resolute silhouette under the blazing sun.
Countless examiners, cadets and instructors turned their gazes towards him.
Guts raised his right hand.
His palm opened slightly.
'Air Compression'
Hum—The air vibrated.
Visible shockwaves radiated outward from him, like an invisible gravitational wave, distorting the surrounding space.
In the next moment—Guts clenched his fist with a sudden, explosive force!
BOOM!!!
Dozens of thick stone targets—Shattered simultaneously from within!
A downpour of rubble cascaded as deafening explosions rocked the entire bay!
A furious gale swept through, the shockwaves tearing across the testing grounds like an invisible hurricane!
Gasps erupted from the observation deck.
Examiners gaped in shock and even the deputy of the monitoring division abandoned all restraint, leaping to his feet in astonishment!
On the high platform. Zephyr, clad in a pristine marine uniform, stood with his hands behind his back under the scorching sun, unmoving like a statue.
His hawk-like eyes locked onto Guts.
After a moment, a rare trace of a smile—subtle yet blazing—finally appeared on his perpetually stern face.
"This kid…"
"He's good seeds."
The test was declared over.
Without a shred of doubt—Guts passed all selection criteria with overwhelming superiority.
Moreover, he was personally singled out by Zephyr.
"Guts, from today onward, you report directly to me."
At that moment, Guts slowly lifted his head.
His eyes reflected the solemn figure of Zephyr on the high platform—and the retreating back of Sakazuki, cloaked in an aura of blazing fury as he departed.
'Zephyr's Special Training Camp', a hellish crucible gathering the strongest recruits from across the world, had officially opened its doors to Guts.
Here, every individual's talent, background and willpower were top-tier.
But among this crowd—Guts immediately noticed one young man.
Taciturn, dark-skinned and ruggedly built.
He possessed neither the power of a Devil Fruit nor a dazzling lineage.
Yet in the basic physical endurance test, he completed every challenge with near-masochistic determination.
Every time he fell, he gritted his teeth and rose again, his eyes burning with unyielding fire.
His name—Puck. From the South Blue.
Like Guts, he had joined the Marines after his family was slaughtered by pirates.
Not for glory, not for status—only for vengeance and justice.
During a group training exercise, when the simulated pirate raid began, the other cadets hesitated.
Only Puck stepped forward without hesitation, shielding a fellow cadet and taking a simulated cannon blast in his place.
In that moment, Guts silently committed his name to memory.
In the future—Puck would become the first vice-admiral of his 'Absolute Justice Fleet'.
Yet, in this place where new hope was kindling—undercurrents were also stirring.
Deep within the training camp, certain officers lurking in the shadows had already begun keeping a close watch on this suddenly rising new star.
Corruption.
Interests.
Dark dealings.
They had long taken root and spread within the Marines.
A nail too sharp would not only pierce enemies—but also allies.
Someone whispered in the darkness, "That brat… is too dangerous."
And Guts himself had long been keenly aware of it.
Beyond training, he quietly gathered clues, bit by bit, silently peeling back the veil over the rot festering deep within the Marines.
Because he understood.
Merely sweeping away pirates wasn't enough.
If even the internal corruption couldn't be eradicated—the justice of the future would be nothing more than a castle built on quicksand.
This path would be unimaginably difficult.
But Guts never hesitated.
From the moment his homeland was slaughtered by pirates, he had realized.
"Absolute justice—must begin with a complete reckoning of the world at its roots."