Zephyr's Special Training Camp · Six Months Later
The scorching sun blazed over the vast training ground.
After six months of high-pressure training, the trainees of Zephyr's camp had undergone a preliminary transformation—both physically and mentally—reborn in strength, will, and skill.
And today, Zephyr himself issued the first—Combat Annihilation Mission!
[Objective]:
Location: East Blue · Mill Town.
Enemy: The newly risen pirate crew—Grey Fang Pirates.
Threat Level: C+ (capable of small-scale destruction).
Mission Directive: Confirm annihilation, protect civilians, full command authority on-site.
The two-man team selected for the mission was—Guts and Puck.
Zephyr stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze as steady as a hammer, sweeping over Guts and Puck.
"The battlefield is not a training ground."
"When facing the enemy, first break their spirit, then their ranks."
"Remember—protecting civilians comes first, eliminating threats second."
Puck stood solemnly, while Guts gave a silent nod.
The two exchanged a glance, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
The scorching wind swept past.
The two young figures boarded a small warship bound for the East Blue.
....
East Blue · Offshore Mill Town
As evening fell, the sea reflected the bloody hues of twilight, waves crashing against the dilapidated docks.
The warship slowly approached the shore.
Guts and Puck stood side by side on the deck, gazing into the distance—
A worn but well-armed pirate ship was quietly approaching Mill Town's harbor!
On its deck, dozens of pirates roared savagely, brandishing cutlasses and flintlocks, like starving beasts ready to pounce.
At their helm stood a captain—two meters tall, muscles coiled like steel, a crimson skull tattoo emblazoned on his left arm—Grey Fang · Klant!
"Target confirmed," Guts murmured, his gaze as cold as a blade.
"Shall we engage?" Puck tilted his head, his fists already clenched, veins bulging.
Guts gave a slight nod, his voice like a sword whispering in the icy wind.
"Make it quick."
The next second, Guts stepped forward.
The air around him rippled violently.
A visible transparent shockwave radiated from him, shaking the very ground beneath!
[Air Pressure Step]!
Boom—!
A black blur sliced through the sea breeze.
Guts crossed dozens of meters in an instant, charging into the pirate ranks like a bolt of lightning!
The air compressed rapidly before his fist.
[Air Vibration Slash]!
Swish—!
A crescent-shaped blade of air carved a piercing sonic boom through the atmosphere!
Boom—!!
Over a dozen pirates had their chests torn open, blood spraying as they were sent flying meters away, collapsing with agonized screams.
Puck followed close behind.
No Devil Fruit powers.
No flashy effects.
Only sheer, refined martial arts!
His fists were encased in a rock-solid layer of pitch-black Armament Haki.
Thud!
His foot stomped the ground, sending rubble flying.
Puck barreled into the enemy ranks with a brutal straight punch, like an enraged lion!
Crash!
His fist shattered the chest of a sword-wielding pirate with a sickening crack.
The pirate flew backward like a ragdoll, crashing through a dilapidated roof.
"Bastards!! Kill them!!" Greyfang Klant roared, rallying his remaining crew to charge madly at Guts and Puck!
Guts narrowed his eyes, his palm tightening slightly.
The air violently compressed and distorted, visible ripples spreading outward.
[Explosive Pressure Barrage·Chain Strike]!
—Three rapid, consecutive bursts of pressurized air impact!
Boom!!! Boom!!! Boom!!!
Three massive shockwaves tore through the pirate mob like hammer blows.
Dozens of charging pirates were hurled into the air by the compressed explosions.
Battered and bloodied, they smashed into the port's stone pillars, breaking them apart!
Puck roared, kneeing a pirates into the air before spinning into a sweeping kick, the weight of his Armament Haki-enhanced leg flattening the two ambushers.
Five short minutes.
The port was drenched in blood.
Grey Fang Pirates—Annihilated.
Only Captain Klant remained, barely struggling.
But in the next moment—Guts took a single step, and the air detonated.
His figure shot forward like an arrow!
A single Air Pressure Fist·Point Burst struck Klant's chest with pinpoint precision!
BOOM!!!
Klant didn't even have time to grunt before his ribs caved in, sending him flying dozens of meters into a pile of rubble—his fate unknown.
Blood and gunpowder hung thick over the port.
Puck exhaled as he retracted his fists, while Guts flicked his wrist lightly, standing calmly amidst the wreckage and corpses.
They quickly assessed the situation within Mill Town.
Not a single civilian casualty.
The townsfolk were still shaken.
When they saw the two bloodied, smoke-stained boys in Marine uniforms return, standing like divine warriors in the fading light—tears of gratitude streamed down their faces.
Some sobbed into their hands, others dropped the stones they'd been clutching and fell to their knees, crying out.
"Thank you!!"
"Long live the Marines!!"
"Our saviors!!"
At that moment, Guts lowered his gaze slightly, looking at those fragile lives yearning for protection.
Something heavy and burning ignited silently within him.
First combat mission, perfectly completed.
And for the first time, he was truly feel what its like: Justice.
Not just a slogan, but the hope of countless fragile lives.
Just as Guts and Puck confirmed the completion of their extermination mission and boarded the small warship to return—the winds suddenly shifted.
A commotion erupted on the side of the deck.
A man dressed in the uniform of a headquarters lieutenant, wearing a fake smile, approached slowly with several reserve soldiers in tow.
His voice was slick and mocking.
"Just in case, let's run another Combat Reaction Test, shall we, kids?"
Before Guts could even respond—several soldiers had already drawn their swords and charged!
But Guts merely swept a cold glance over them.
His brow lifted slightly, his expression indifferent.
His perception surged like a tide, instantly detecting the malice hidden beneath the pretense in the air.
This wasn't training.
This wasn't a test.
This was Internal Corruption Probing.
Testing whether he could be suppressed, whether he would submit without resistance.
Guts' eyes turned cold.
The next moment—
BOOM!!
The air beneath his feet collapsed instantly, his figure slicing through the air like a fractured arrow, soaring to midair in a sharp arc.
His palm clenched slightly.
The air trembled and compressed in his grasp.
In the blink of an eye— High-Frequency Airburst!!!
—Triple-compressed air detonated with a deafening roar!
BOOM!!!
The shockwave within a five-meter radius exploded violently!
The unprepared ambushing soldiers were hurled backward by the erupting storm of pressure, crashing into the deck railings like ragdolls, coughing blood and unconscious.
Weapons clattered to the ground, cries of pain rising and falling.
The entire deck fell into deathly silence in an instant.
Only the howling sea wind remained, carrying the groans of the injured soldiers.
Midair, Guts slowly descended amidst the currents, his black hair whipping wildly, his uniform fluttering sharply in the wind.
His gaze swept across the scene like a blade, cold and unyielding.
His eyes lingered briefly on the officer who had orchestrated the test.
The young man's voice was low, like thunder suppressed before a storm.
"Training accident?"
"...What a pathetic attempt."
The officer's smile froze on his face.
Cold sweat instantly drenched his back.
He opened his mouth, trying to mask his fear with a forced laugh, but his voice trembled so badly even he could hear it.
"Ha...haha... j-just a misunderstanding... just a misunderstanding..."
Guts gave him a faint glance.
He didn't say another word.
But deep in his heart, he had already coldly engraved this man's name and appearance into the depths of his memory.
Corruption—had to be uprooted completely.
Just like sweeping away pirates.
No matter where it hid, no matter what guise it wore.
In the end, it would all be burned to ashes under Absolute Justice.
From this moment onward, every schemer within Zephyr's Special Training Camp realized for the first time: This young man called Guts—was no mere pawn to be easily suppressed or controlled.
...
Late at night.
A bright desk lamp cast its lonely glow over a table piled high with documents, the air thick with the pungent scent of tobacco and a stifling sense of tension.
Sakazuki sat alone behind his desk, still in his uniform with his coat draped over his shoulders, a sealed report spread open in his hands.
Its contents were brutally short.
'Zephyr Training Camp Internal Probing Report'
'Incident Record: Guts Squad's "Accidental Injury Test"'
'List of Responsible Personnel Attached'
Click.
The cigar burned out.
His fingers exerted a slight pressure, grinding the report into ashes on the spot.
Within his blazing eyes, a fierce yet cold light ignited.
"...Useless."
The low, biting words rumbled like the first suppressed thunder beneath molten rock.
Sakazuki slowly pushed back his chair and stood up.
His cape billowed as a fierce wind rushed through the door crack, whipping the fabric with a sharp snap.
He stood still, silent for several seconds, then slowly closed his eyes.
His Observation Haki—spread soundlessly.
Those were the traces of corruption he had personally marked months ago in secret.
Now, every strand's location, condition and habits appeared in his mind as clearly as stars in the night sky.
Sakazuki opened his eyes, crimson flames surging in their depths.
"To beat a dog, one must do it under cover of night."
That very night, at the training camp's outskirts, in the shadowy port taverns, at the warehouse transfer points—those traces of corruption once etched by Observation Haki vanished without a trace overnight.
....
By dawn the next day, the sea breeze brushed past.
A few faint streaks of dark red rippled across the water, as if even the waves themselves dared not mourn them.
And within the training camp, those with ulterior motives—felt an indistinct realization—an invisible, blood-red hand was silently tightening the noose.
Everyone's attitude toward Guts, the rising star, completely shifted.
From testing—to fear.
And Sakazuki himself never spoke a single word about it openly.
As if nothing had happened that night.
He merely, after quietly tidying all the "loose ends" late at night, stood atop the base's highest watchtower, gazing at the distant horizon where a new era was about to rise.
Amid the rolling flames in his eyes, the straight and solitary figure of that black-haired boy surfaced.
The cold wind howled, his cape snapping violently.
Yet his molten heart burned fiercely in silence.