Three Months.
The time at the Marineford new recruit training camp was like a rough piece of iron thrown into a furnace—hammered again and again in sweat, blood, screams, and the clash of steel, quenched and reforged. The fear and rawness of entering the camp had long been ground away, leaving behind only deeper exhaustion and the emerging outline of something forged under high pressure—a "soldier."
On the physical training grounds, the cries of pain still rang out every day, but the intensity was no longer the same as before.
The load had risen from twenty kilograms to fifty, the climbing wall's incline was deliberately adjusted to be trickier, and even coated with slick oil. In the swordsmanship dojo, Ken's "sudden ambushes" had become a routine event, keeping the recruits tense like startled birds at all times.
Helmeppo's crippled leg could finally barely touch the ground, but the venom and pettiness on his face only grew by the day. His eyes toward Luffy were like poisoned blades—especially after the "broken sword incident" in the dojo—now mixed with fear and hatred he could not hide.
Coby was still timid, with physical training and swordsmanship both at the bottom of the ranks, but there was now a faint, nearly imperceptible resilience about him.
Every day after training, when others collapsed like mud, one could always see him in a corner, quietly practicing his sword swings, sweat soaking his oversized training uniform. Sometimes, he would steal a glance at Luffy, his eyes complex—filled with reverence, longing, and a trace of… unspoken dependence.
The pace of the camp never slowed for anyone's exhaustion. Once basic physical and swordsmanship courses ended, the massive copper plaque hanging outside the main training hall finally pointed to the stage every recruit both feared and yearned for—the Rokushiki (Six Powers) Preparatory Training Grounds.
This was an independent area inside the fortress, backed by towering cliffs.
The ground was no longer gravel or hardwood but reinforced with half a meter of special concrete, strong enough to withstand cannon fire.
Around the field stood strange steel contraptions: spinning blade wheels, nozzles spraying high-pressure water, and moving walls covered in spikes… The air reeked of oil, rust, and sweat stronger than anywhere else.
The instructor for Rokushiki training was a silent man, cold and immovable as stone.
He rarely spoke, only demonstrating, with hands covered in thick calluses, movements that pushed the human body beyond its limits. Soru (Shave), Tekkai (Iron Body), Kami-e (Paper Art), Geppo (Moonwalk), Rankyaku (Tempest Kick), Shigan (Finger Gun)…
Each name represented the Marine Headquarters' deadliest combat arts, gates touched only by countless soldiers through blood, tears, and sacrifice.
"Rokushiki is not about being superhuman—it is the ultimate art!"
The instructor's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping. "Only by tempering the body to its very limits, breaking past reason, can you glimpse its doorway!" He suddenly kicked, his leg moving so fast it left only an afterimage.
Shhh! A visible white blade of compressed air ripped through the atmosphere like an invisible scythe, slicing a rubber dummy ten meters away in half! The cut was mirror-smooth!
Rankyaku (Tempest Kick)!
The recruits gasped, eyes wide with both terror and burning desire.
Training began. The entry drill for Soru (Shave) was the most basic, yet also the most painful. It required stomping the ground dozens of times in an instant, using recoil to burst into explosive movement. It looked simple, but demanded extreme leg muscle strength, nerve reflexes, and core control.
Most recruits could only stomp clumsily on the spot, making the ground boom boom boom like ostriches, but couldn't move even half a meter.
Helmeppo's face flushed red as he stomped wildly, his speed fast enough, but his strength scattered. His body swayed like a drunk duck, nearly tripping himself, drawing stifled snickers from those around him.
Ashamed and furious, he glared daggers at Luffy.
Luffy stood still, not rushing to try. Closing his eyes, he turned his awareness inward. The terrifying muscle memory and flexibility from Luffy's body awoke, while deep in his soul, Zangetsu's cold and heavy will stirred like a sleeping volcano, which he carefully roused just a little.
He did not draw upon its vast power, but instead guided the most subtle, primal stream of reiatsu (spiritual pressure) into his leg muscles and nerves like a precision probe.
Perceive.
Control. Guide.
Every twitch of muscle fibers, every stretch of tendons, every tiny pathway of force through bone—all became crystal clear under the "inner sight" of reiatsu.
He stopped trying to stomp with brute force, and instead sought the perfect point of muscle exertion, the flawless transmission of power.
Seconds of silence passed.
Luffy's eyes snapped open! A cold black gleam flickered deep in his pupils!
Bzz!
His leg muscles, adjusted with reiatsu, meshed like precision gears! His calves quivered at a frequency invisible to the naked eye!
His feet didn't leave the ground—instead, with minuscule, perfectly precise motions, they stomped dozens of times in a fraction of a second!
This time, power was not scattered but braided into a single cord, flowing through his feet, ankles, calves, thighs, and core, like a lit fuse!
Shhh!
A faint, razor-like sound cut through the air!
Luffy's figure blurred!
The next moment, he stood three meters away! In his place remained only a barely visible ripple of air left behind by his movement!
The whole thing was fast. Steady. Silent.
Not a single wasted motion—as if he had simply stepped forward casually!
"Hhh!" Gasps rang all around!
The recruits nearest almost popped their eyes out! That was Soru?
No—that was teleportation!
While they flailed like epileptic chickens, this guy had already performed a perfect first displacement, silent and smooth.
Helmeppo's mocking grin froze, his face rigid like a toad in ice. He stared at where Luffy had just stood, then at where he now calmly stood, his lips trembling but unable to speak.
Coby, at the back, clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, his eyes shining behind his glasses, locked firmly on Luffy's back.
Up on the platform, Supervisor Shuzo's perpetually half-closed eyes suddenly snapped open!
His sharp gaze locked instantly onto Luffy like a searchlight!
The edge of his clipboard groaned as his fingers unconsciously squeezed it tight. A first attempt… successful? And that smooth? That wasn't just talent anymore… His mind flashed back to the broken sword incident, the shocking reports of Luffy's physique.
"Monster…" The word surfaced in his thoughts again.
…
Rankyaku (Tempest Kick) training followed soon after. The instructor's demonstration was even more awe-inspiring.
A high-speed kick that tore air into vacuum blades, sharp enough to cut steel! The recruits' blood boiled with excitement, but their own attempts looked like children swinging sticks—no air blades, not even a strong gust, only leg cramps that left many collapsed on the ground.
Luffy stood silently in the ranks, eyes fixed on the instructor's every detail.
The muscle's burst trajectory, the joint's rotation, the split-second transfer of force from core to toes… He watched with absolute focus.
Deep in his soul, Zangetsu's cold will stirred again. This time, not mere guidance—but resonance.
(End of Chapter)
[50 Power Stones = 1 Extra Chapter]
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