Summer, Year 1502 of the Sea Calendar
Time flowed like water.
The scorching sun baked the sea, while the wind whipped up layers of white-capped waves that crashed against the harbor with deep, powerful echoes.
The moment the final ultimate assessment of Zephyr's Special Training Camp concluded.
The entire training ground fell into a brief, solemn silence.
The ruined mock battlefield was strewn with collapsed obstacles, burning debris, and mingled sweat and blood, painting an image of utmost brutality.
Sweat, blood, and exhaustion intertwined in every trainee's breath.
Yet at the forefront, two youths remained standing tall.
One with wild black hair, his expression as cold and sharp as the stars.
The other dark-skinned, fists clenched, his presence as steady as a mountain.
Guts and Puck.
Finally, under Zephyr's steel-hard gaze, the results were announced.
[1st Place: Guts · Air Air Fruit User · Evaluation: S+]
[2nd Place: Puck · Physical Enhancement Specialist · Evaluation: S]
The two had overwhelmingly crushed their peers, claiming the top spots!
The Marine instructors observing from a distance murmured among themselves, unable to hide their admiration.
"Truly monstrous brats..."
"With that kind of talent, they'll go far."
"Especially that Guts... It's like he was born for battle."
*****
Graduation Ceremony · Headquarters Plaza
Under the blazing sun, the massive training ground bearing the Marine insignia stood solemnly.
The sea breeze howled as hundreds of newly commissioned officers stood in solemn formation beneath the blue-and-white naval flag, the atmosphere was heavy with gravity.
Guts and Puck stood at the forefront, one before the other.
Their chests were straight, their spines taut like bowstrings—every line of their bodies exuding the resilience forged in battle.
Zephyr approached slowly, clad in combat attire, his cape billowing.
Under the gaze of the entire assembly, Zephyr personally draped the traditional blue-and-white naval cape over Guts' shoulders.
Then, with solemnity, he pinned the silver badge symbolizing the rank of 'Lieutenant' onto the left side of Guts' chest.
—Click.
The moment the badge met the uniform, it emitted a crisp, decisive sound—like a clarion call heralding the boy's first step onto the true battlefield.
The iron badge gleamed under the sunlight, cold yet dignified.
Zephyr's deep voice thundered across the plaza.
"Guts—"
"From this day forth, your shoulders bear not just your own will."
"But also—the hopes of countless civilians."
"The dignity of the Marines."
"And Justice."
Guts' eyes were as calm.
He struck his chest with his right fist in the most formal salute.
His voice was firm, sharp as a blade's edge.
"I will never betray the name of justice!"
The sunlight bathed the boy's shoulders, casting a halo-like radiance on him.
For a moment, even Zephyr's lips curled into a rare hint of a smile.
At the same time, Puck was also awarded the rank of Ensign.
But once the ceremony concluded, he strode resolutely to Guts, knelt on one knee and made a solemn request.
"I request to become Lieutenant Guts' direct adjutant."
Silence fell over the assembly—then erupted into murmurs!
After all—the Marine's regulations were strict, its hierarchy rigid.
Voluntarily lowering one's rank to follow another meant abandoning personal honor.
It meant staking one's entire fate—glory and disgrace alike—on another's shoulders.
Yet Puck's eyes burned with unwavering resolve.
Not just out of trust, but from a bond forged in blood and fire—a belief, a yearning for someone to lead him in tearing down and reforging this rotten world!
Zephyr fell silent for several seconds.
Gazing into the crimson conviction blazing in Puck's eyes.
Finally, he gave a slight nod, then struck Puck's left shoulder heavily with his right fist while murmuring.
"...Granted."
Puck rose and took his place half a step behind Guts.
That—was the position of an adjutant.
From this moment onward—
This pair of young marines officially embarked on their own journey.
******
Marine Headquarters Conference Room
Behind a heavy desk, a personnel transfer file was slid before several high-ranking officers.
The Marine's highest council was in quiet session.
Name: Guts · Lieutenant.
Ability Assessment: Logia Type · Air Air Fruit.
Outstanding in combat command.
Decisive and ruthless.
Absolute political alignment
-Note: Potential candidate for training as an independent command system seed.
Vice Admiral Tsuru adjusted her glasses, a trace of approval in her smile.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku sipped his coffee, then nodded after a moment's contemplation.
And standing slightly behind, clad in his cape—Vice Admiral Sakazuki.
His gaze rested quietly on the file.
This was the nephew he had personally pulled from ruins and bloodshed—the one he was willing to shield with his own iron will.
Slowly, he withdrew his gaze, the faintest hint of smile touching his lips.
In that moment—
Even the iron-blooded 'Red Dog' felt a flicker of fierce pride ignite in his heart.
"Good."
Sengoku made the final call.
"If it's a blade, then it should be sent for tempering."
"First, temper him in the East Blue—control the pace. Don't let this blade reveal its edge too soon."
*****
Autumn of 1502, East Blue · 62nd Marine Branch
Dawn's first light crept in.
The rising sun was veiled in mist, while the sea breeze carried the scent of salt and lingering blood.
By the small military harbor, a brand-new marine lieutenant's flag slowly rose.
White with blue trim, it fluttered in the wind, announcing the arrival of the new commander of this long-dormant branch.
At the center of the square stood Guts, clad in a crisp military uniform adorned with the fresh insignia of a headquarters lieutenant, his gaze cold and resolute.
He stood straight as a drawn blade, the morning light glinting faintly off his sharp edges.
Puck stood solemnly at his side, sword at his waist, his black combat cloak fluttering slightly, his brow etched with seriousness.
What they had taken over was a modest, poorly equipped, and demoralized East Blue branch fleet.
The warships were worn, the gun turrets rusted and the soldiers were weak, their eyes dull with indifference and lethargy.
But—
No one dared to show the slightest disrespect in front of this new lieutenant.
Because during the very first full inspection that morning, Guts had compressed air to its limit and with a single strike, shattered a five-ton training pillar in the middle of the drill ground!
From officers to enlisted men, the entire branch had fallen Death silent.
This was no weak, paper-pushing commander.
This was a lieutenant who could—and would—crush rebellion with his bare fists.
*****
Branch Operations Room · Night
Under dim lighting, a map was spread across the long table.
The Midley Archipelago—
A stretch of sea dotted with islands of varying sizes, their terrain complex and waterways dense, making it the perfect hiding place for pirates to lurk and escape.
And according to recent intelligence—
At least four newly formed pirate crews had begun gathering here, harassing nearby shipping lanes, slaughtering fishermen and plundering merchant ships.
Guts studied the map, his fingers tapping lightly on the table, his voice cold.
"To tolerate them is to betray the civilians."
He looked up, his gaze cutting through the night like a blade.
Puck stood at attention, awaiting orders.
Guts personally drafted the first operation plan.
[East Blue Purge Operation · Midley Archipelago]
[Target]: Four newly formed pirate crews
[Operational Principles]:
No mercy, no delay.
Swift and decisive, island by island.
No survivors, no compromises.
Priority: Protect innocent civilians.
Secondary: Eradicate pirate strongholds completely.
[Time Limit]: One month to complete the purge.
Puck slammed a fist against his chest, his eyes burning with battle fervor.
"Mission will be accomplished!"
*****
Harbor · Midnight
The night was heavy.
Guts stood with his sword at his side, gazing at the four warship docked at the pier.
Though old, these ships had undergone basic repairs and weapon inspections under Puck's leadership in just a few short days.
The flag was raised.
The naval battle standard fluttered sharply in the night wind, its cold gleam like an invisible blade.
Under the lamplight, over a hundred specially assembled combat soldiers stood solemnly on deck, their expressions stern, their eyes blazing.
The newly appointed Lieutenant Guts stood at the bow, his cloak fluttering slightly, like a blade about to be unsheathed.
Puck stood to his left, in the adjutant's position, hands clasped behind his back, his demeanor as unyielding as a mountain.
After a moment of silence, Guts spoke.
His voice was low, yet it pierced through every chest.
"The East Blue—once a beacon of tranquility, the most peaceful sea in the world."
"But look at it now! Its peace is shattered, its people tremble under the shadow of lawless pirates. Their wicked claws tear at the very fabric of their lives, plundering, destroying, and leaving only despair in their wake!"
"I don't care about your complacency before, or your weakness that allowed this darkness to fester. Those days are over!"
"From this moment forward, we march to a new dawn. We cast aside hesitation, and we embrace our duty."
"Follow me! Not to dwell on what was lost, but to forge what must be. Only forward, to purge this encroaching evil. And only with conviction, only with the necessary resolve, shall we uphold true justice!"
The deck of the warship trembled as the soldiers' chests heaved, their breaths turning scorching hot!
Guts clenched his right fist with a sudden jerk.
The air instantly froze, visible shockwaves rippling across the surrounding sea!
"Set sail!"
BOOM—!
Four warships surged forward simultaneously, cutting through the night as they charged towards the turbulent waters of the Midley Archipelago.
On the battlefield where blood and fire had yet to fade—
The first step of absolute justice had quietly begun!
In the future, they would tear apart the darkness inch by inch—with sword and flame, with thunder and wind—until the world was purged of the scourge of pirates!