Kyle's devil training continued for several months in the blink of an eye.
The Oro Jackson's deck was no longer a hellish purgatory where two little brats wailed, but had become their playground for sweating it out.
Bodies that had once collapsed after a hundred laps could now complete two hundred weighted laps and still have energy to banter.
Arms that once couldn't even lift the ship's anchor could now move entire crates of cannonballs with ease.
The changes were visible to the naked eye. Shanks had grown taller, his muscle definition was beginning to show, and the longing in his eyes had settled into determination.
Though Buggy remained small, his movements now carried the keen alertness of a cheetah, and those eyes that always stared at treasure would flash with cunning brilliance during combat.
This afternoon, the sunlight was perfect.
Shanks and Buggy had just finished a complete set of sword swings and thrusting practice, sweat soaking their hair and trickling down their cheeks.
"Hey, you two!" Gaban leaned against the ship's rail and shouted at them. "What's the point of training all day? You gotta show what you're made of! Do you dare fight in front of everyone?"
With those words, the deck exploded into excitement.
Nozdon stopped polishing the cannons, Doringo poked his head out from the lookout, and even Rayleigh at the helm cast an interested glance their way.
"Ooooh!"
"Fight! Fight!"
"I'm betting on Shanks! He's learned from Captain Roger himself!"
"I'm betting on Buggy! That kid's full of tricks—he won't lose easily!"
The crew's cheering rose and fell, with some even opening betting pools on the spot.
Hearing about bets, Buggy's eyes instantly lit up. He tapped his palm with the hilt of his dagger and provocatively raised his chin at Shanks: "Hey, redhead, dare to play with this great lord? Whoever loses gives up their allowance for the next month!"
"Who's afraid of who, red-nose!" Shanks took his sword from his shoulder, pointing the tip straight at Buggy with fighting spirit blazing. "Perfect time to show you the results of my training these past months!"
The two little guys quickly took their stances while the watching crew members consciously stepped back, forming a natural arena.
Roger appeared from nowhere, hugging a large barrel of wine and sitting excitedly on a nearby wooden crate. "Gu ha ha ha! Let them fight! Let them fight!"
Kyle still leaned in the shadow of the mainmast, holding his eternally unchanged glass of orange juice.
The battle was about to begin!
Shanks launched the first attack.
He pushed off with his feet, shooting forward like an arrow from a bow, his long sword carving out a standard slashing trajectory aimed straight at Buggy's center.
Every move carried shadows of Roger's bold, charge-ahead style—though immature, it was already taking shape.
"Too naive!" Buggy chose not to meet the attack head-on.
He crouched low, sliding sideways at an extremely tricky angle, narrowly avoiding the slash by a hair's breadth.
Simultaneously, his dagger struck like a viper's tongue, stabbing back-handed toward Shanks' sword-holding wrist!
Clang!
Shanks reacted quickly, twisting his wrist and blocking horizontally with his blade, precisely parrying that sinister thrust.
Missing with one strike, both quickly separated.
The crew cheered—in just one exchange, the combat quality these two kids displayed far exceeded their expectations.
"Oh ho, that Buggy kid moves pretty nimbly!"
"Shanks' swordsmanship is looking more and more proper, too!"
In the arena, the battle grew more intense.
Shanks attacked like a tide, his sword technique simple but every strike heavy with overwhelming pressure.
Meanwhile, Buggy was like a slippery fish, always managing to avoid direct confrontation at crucial moments, using his daggers' flexibility to constantly seek openings.
His fighting style was practical, efficient, and even carried a few traces of unscrupulous cunning.
In one exchange, Buggy deliberately showed an opening, luring Shanks into a full-power slash.
Just as the blade was about to strike, he suddenly kicked up a pile of dust from the deck, blinding Shanks' eyes!
"Dirty trick!" Shanks instinctively closed his eyes and turned his head.
That was the moment!
A gleam flashed in Buggy's eyes as he crouched and charged forward, crossing his twin daggers like scissors aimed at Shanks' throat.
"It's over! Your allowance is mine!" Buggy shouted internally.
However, Shanks made an unexpected move.
Instead of retreating, he relied on muscle memory to suddenly step forward, lowering his body and ramming his shoulder hard into Buggy's chest!
Bang!
The impact was heavy and forceful—a completely mutual destruction approach.
Buggy was knocked back several steps, his throat-lock attack naturally falling apart, while Shanks also stumbled from the shoulder impact.
"That idiot!" Buggy rubbed his aching chest and cursed silently.
"It's not over yet!" Shanks steadied himself, his eyes burning with unyielding flames.
He took a deep breath and assumed a starting stance extremely similar to Roger's.
Seeing this posture, Roger laughed even louder: "Gu ha ha ha! Just like me in the old days!"
Buggy's expression also grew serious—this would be the decisive strike.
He bent his legs slightly, holding his daggers across his chest, watching his opponent's every move with complete focus.
"Haaah—!"
This slash contained all of Shanks' beliefs and strength.
Buggy didn't dare be careless, crossing his daggers before him and concentrating all his body's power at this single point, preparing to meet this ultimate attack.
Claaang—!!!
Long sword and daggers collided violently, erupting in blinding sparks!
The deadlock lasted only one second.
Buggy felt an overwhelming force transmitted through his daggers, instantly splitting his grip.
His defensive daggers were pressed backward by the tremendous force until his defense was completely torn apart.
Shanks' sword continued its momentum, finally stopping just at the tip of Buggy's nose, the sharp wind from the blade ruffling his blue hair.
The victor was decided!
The entire scene fell silent for a moment, then erupted in thunderous cheers.
"He won! Shanks won!"
"Beautifully done!"
Buggy stared blankly at the blade tip so close to his face, then looked at his own trembling hands. With reluctant "tsk," he sat down hard on the ground, but his eyes showed little dejection—more of a "damn it, so close" frustration.
Shanks sheathed his sword, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed red with the joy of victory.
Kyle leaned against the mast, watching those two small figures in the arena. His usually slightly mocking expression now unconsciously curved upward.
Good, very good! Shanks' strength improved rapidly, and Buggy wasn't falling behind either!
Wonder if they can match up to a certain genius who works two hundred times harder? (Not really)
Under Master Kyle's guidance, if Buggy still does those pathetic things in the East Blue later, I'll be like ↓
The orange juice in the sunlight seemed sweeter than usual.
The rain he'd endured hadn't been wasted on letting these two brats get soaked as well.
Watching them grow from crying little snot-nosed kids to presentable warriors now—this nurturing gameplay was great!
"Gu ha ha ha! Well done! You're both excellent!" Roger laughed as he walked forward, lifting both Shanks and Buggy up, one in each hand.
"Hey, Captain! Put this great lord down! I lost, damn it!" Buggy was still being stubborn.
"You both fought wonderfully!" Rayleigh also walked over with a smile, his eyes full of satisfaction.
Then the crew members swarmed over.
"Let's celebrate having two more qualified pirates on our ship!" Gaban shouted.
The next second, excited crew members tossed Shanks and Buggy high into the air.
"Waaaah—!"
"Put me down! This great lord is afraid of heights!"
Under the azure sky, the two little figures rose and fell through the air while the deck filled with the hearty laughter of legendary pirates.
Kyle watched this scene, smiling and shaking his head as he drained the last sip of orange juice from his cup.
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~ Push the story forward with your Power Stones