Jas stood at the front, looking down at the furious freshmen. His tone was dripping with arrogance as he scoffed, "What? You're not convinced? You think we're bullying you?"
A sharp-faced senior sneered beside him, adding mockingly, "That's right. We are bullying you. Welcome to reality. The weak get stepped on."
The freshmen's faces twisted with anger. They had never been mocked so blatantly.
"We're not weaklings!" someone roared.
A muscular freshman couldn't hold back and stepped forward with clenched fists, but before he could swing—
BANG!
Jas's kick slammed into his chest and sent him flying like a ragdoll. Jas spat disdainfully. "That's it? Trash."
"Pathetic," another senior said with a snort. "You think you're fit for Marine training camp? Come back in ten years!"
Their mocking was sharp, their confidence oozing from every word. They were bullies who'd clearly done this before—and enjoyed it.
The freshmen were seething.
"This is the Marine Headquarters training camp!" one shouted angrily. "The instructors will be here any moment. You really dare to attack us here?"
He was trying to appeal to authority, hoping the instructors' presence would be enough to deter the seniors.
But Jas just smirked coldly and stepped forward.
CRACK!
Another kick sent the protester flying.
"Instructors? Don't bother. They won't lift a finger," he sneered. "You're not escaping today."
The freshmen's faces paled.
'Are... are the instructors really not here?'
They had no idea the instructors were, in fact, nearby — quietly observing, arms crossed, amused by the spectacle.
"Garbage. The lot of you."
"Come on, show us what you've got!"
Jas looked over them proudly. Their anger and hesitation thrilled him — it was the same humiliation he had once suffered, now reversed. He was savoring it.
"Go on, go on!" he goaded. "There's only a few hundred of them. We outnumber them easily. Afraid of rookies?"
Lafer couldn't take it anymore.
Veins bulged on his forehead as he charged forward, his casserole-sized fists slamming into a senior's face.
WHAM!
The senior hadn't expected it and was knocked flying.
"H-Hiss—!"
Groaning in pain, the senior clutched his jaw and glared murderously. "You bastard…"
The next moment, he rushed at Lafer, fists swinging. The clash ignited a chain reaction.
With Lafer leading the way, the freshmen finally exploded in fury and charged into the fray!
Chaos broke out.
Meanwhile, the instructors watched from a distance.
"Hah, not bad," one said with a grin. "At least they're not cowards."
"That big one's got power," another noted. "Could be promising."
But Maynard's eyes narrowed as he pointed. "Hey, everyone's fighting except that one. What's up with him? Scared?"
The "one" he was referring to — was Yuno.
He stood at the back, silent, still, not even clenching his fists.
Maynard furrowed his brow.
Cage, arms folded, chuckled knowingly. "He's not afraid. Just wait."
Back among the seniors, several were watching with amused expressions.
"Haha, Jas is at it again. That guy lives for this."
"Shame none of those kids are real monsters. Guess we'll just have to beat some respect into them."
A burly senior with a square jaw and cool eyes snorted as he observed the brawl with disinterest.
"What a shallow display," he muttered. "Idiots playing king of the hill."
He closed his eyes once more, indifferent to the noise around him.
But the moment he spoke, the noisy veterans instantly fell silent.
Their eyes were fixed on him—not with contempt, but with awe.
This man, Coker Roy, was the undisputed strongest in the new recruit camp!
He had eaten the Zoan-type Bull-Ox Fruit: Tibetan Antelope Form, granting him explosive speed and unshakable power.
His combat instincts were sharp, his movements honed, and his gaze piercing.
It was said his Doriki had surpassed 500, placing him firmly in the realm of superhumans.
A future Elite Camp warrior—everyone knew it.
Even among the cocky veterans, "genius Roy" was held in reverence. The moment he opened his mouth, all posturing ceased. No one dared talk back.
The fight was over in barely a dozen minutes.
The seniors—veterans who had trained for half a year—could barely hold their own.
They were utterly crushed.
Only Yuno was left standing motionless, like a feeble, helpless bystander... or so it appeared.
Naturally, the humiliated veterans, burning with anger, turned their aggression toward him.
"He frozen stiff? So scared he can't move?" sneered Jas, leading the charge with a mocking grin.
The others laughed derisively, eyes full of disdain.
Even some instructors shook their heads, unaware of Yuno's real strength.
"Cowardice like that? Even if he gets promoted to captain one day, he'll be nothing but garbage in the Navy…"
Only one person didn't share their view—Rear Admiral Cage.
He stood silently, watching, a strange smile on his lips.
Now it begins, he thought. Let's see how long that smugness lasts when the truth hits them.
On the freshmen's side, some were groaning on the ground in pain. But a few could still move.
Lafer, battered but conscious, caught sight of Yuno and remembered—
The man who had repelled even the instructors…!
He immediately shouted hoarsely, "Brother Yuno! Show them we're not to be bullied!"
"Yeah! They think we're weak—let them taste your strength!"
"Yuno! You can do it! We believe in you!"
Voices rose among the defeated, a chorus of desperate hope.
Jas scowled at the sound. "All this hype for him? He's your strongest?"
Another veteran stepped forward. "Let's see what the freshmen are made of!"
But Yuno didn't rise to their taunts.
To him, the earlier scuffle had been nothing more than childish brawling. Not worth his attention.
Yet now, backed into the spotlight, he could no longer stay silent.
He glanced at the seniors calmly, hands still at his sides.
"…We're all future comrades in arms. Must we really do this?" he asked quietly. "Is there any need to ruin our relationship for something so meaningless?"
Jas sneered. "What's this, stalling for time? Coward's excuse?"
But the way Yuno looked at him—calm, unmoved—irritated him even more.
"Why aren't you afraid?! Why do you look so relaxed?!"
The rage boiled over. His fist clenched.
"Lie down, rookie!" Jas roared, lunging forward.
Yuno sighed, disappointment flickering in his eyes.
"…So it comes to this."
In the next instant, his figure blurred—he moved behind Jas in a flash. With a casual flick of his leg, a light-speed reverse kick exploded.
BOOM—!
Jas was sent flying like a broken kite, crashing to the ground ten meters away in a groaning heap.
The field went dead silent.
Yuno straightened, brushed the dust from his pants, and looked around at the stunned crowd.
His voice was soft, but it echoed across the training ground.
"Seniors… what do you think now?"