The lingering echo of the codename "Yaksha", like a quenched steel blade plunged into icy water, had not yet faded from the skies above Marineford's training camp, when a new furnace was already igniting.
The smoke of the final assessment cleared, leaving not rest, but an even harsher selection. The gears of the training camp turned coldly, eliminating one batch, while pushing another toward greater heights—the Elite Reserve Unit.
Luffy's name, unsurprisingly, appeared at the very top of the list.
He moved out of the stuffy three-person dormitory filled with sweat, mold, and Helmeppo's bitter resentment, into a single room closer to the inner fortress, slightly better in condition.
The room was still plain, but it had a narrow window overlooking the inner harbor's steel warships. Outside, the cold metallic gleam and the dull drone of sirens constantly reminded him where he stood.
The training grounds of the Reserve Unit were no longer the gravel field or the public dojo.
They lay deep within the fortress, adjacent to a heavily walled and strictly guarded area—on the very edge of the legendary Elite Training Camp directly commanded by the Navy's Chief Instructor, "Black Arm" Zephyr.
The air was thick with the smell of machine oil. The ground, a mirror-smooth slab of special concrete, was sturdy enough to withstand bombardment.
All around stood bizarre steel contraptions: spinning blade wheels, pipes spurting high-pressure jets of water, and mobile walls bristling with sensors—everything emanating a cold, efficient atmosphere, born purely for the refinement of killing skills.
The instructor in charge of teaching the basics of Rokushiki (Six Styles) to the Reserve Unit was a major named Gureifu.
His body was lean and dried, like weathered oak. His face held no expression, and his eyes, like two dulled scrapers, swept over the recruits with the indifferent gaze one gives scrap metal. He spoke little—his movements were his language.
"Rokushiki… not a gift from the gods, but a 'waza' (skill) forged by pushing flesh and bone to their limits."
Gureifu's hoarse voice rasped like sandpaper against rusted iron. "Soru (Shave)… its essence lies in speed."
He gave no further explanation—his body suddenly dropped low!
Bzzzt—!
A faint vibration, like a bowstring stretched to its limit!
In an instant, Gureifu's figure blurred.
As if erased by a rubber, he vanished.
The next heartbeat, he appeared ten meters away.
Only a barely perceptible ripple, like water disturbed, remained in his place. The entire process was soundless—faster than the eye could capture.
"Did you see clearly?" His voice came from afar, calm and indifferent.
The recruits gasped, eyes wide with awe and longing. This was Soru! The foundation of Rokushiki, the threshold to a higher domain.
Luffy, standing in formation, fixed his gaze on where Gureifu vanished and reappeared.
Unlike the others, he did not exclaim. Instead, he closed his eyes. Deep within his soul, Zangetsu's cold and steady will rippled like a pebble striking still water. He did not summon that immense power, but sank into a peculiar state of inner vision.
Reiatsu Perception. Like the finest of scanners, it swept across his legs in an instant.
The weave of muscle fibers, the stretch of tendons, the subtle pathways of nerve signals, the weight-bearing points of joints…
Every detail, under the icy gaze of reiatsu, became crystal clear. He could see the energy coursing through muscles like a stream, surging here, clogged there, and where the best burst points lay.
Gureifu's movements replayed in his mind like slow motion.
He did not mimic the form—he analyzed the core of force transmission. At that instant, the leg muscles wound like clockwork springs, force erupting from the sole, running through tendon, bone, and the abdominal core, like a shockwave exploding outward.
"Try." Gureifu's cold command cut his focus.
The recruits stumbled into clumsy imitations.
Some stomped so hard their faces reddened, their legs drumming the ground like ostriches, but did not budge an inch. Others slipped from overexertion and crashed to the floor, drawing muffled snickers.
Luffy did not move yet.
Still with eyes closed, his mind dove into the "inner vision" of his legs. He guided a trace of Zangetsu's reiatsu, delicate as a probe, into muscle fibers and nerves.
Not to inject power—but to make microscopic adjustments. To smooth blockages in energy flow, to sharpen the efficiency of burst nodes. Like oiling a rusted gear, the system began to move with seamless precision.
A few seconds of silence.
Luffy's eyes snapped open—an icy gleam flickered in his pupils.
Bzzzt!
His leg muscles aligned like interlocking gears. His calves quivered at a frequency invisible to the eye. His feet barely moved, yet in less than a second, dozens of micro-stomps fused into a single explosive motion.
The force coiled as one and detonated through his legs and core!
Shhhk—!
His figure blurred—reappearing ten meters away!
Only a faint whirl of displaced air lingered where he had been.
The motion was fast. Smooth. Silent. Without excess. As if he had simply stepped forward.
"..."
The training grounds fell utterly silent.
Every recruit froze mid-struggle, as though under a spell.
For the first time, Gureifu's iceberg face rippled with a trace of surprise. His scraper-like eyes locked onto Luffy with scalpel-sharp scrutiny, as though to dissect him on the spot.
One success?
And so fluidly?
This was beyond talent.
This was… mastery of the body's force to a microscopic level.
Helmeppo, drenched in sweat and still hopping uselessly in place, twisted with rage.
Jealousy and hatred coiled in his chest like snakes. Why?! Why did this country bumpkin always overshadow him?!
Koby, at the back of the group, clenched his shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white. Behind his glasses, his eyes shone bright, trembling with excitement as he stared at Luffy's back.
After the stunned silence came sharp intakes of breath and hushed exclamations.
One attempt. Success. This speed. This stability. A monster! Truly a monster!
Gureifu gave no praise. Only two cold words:
"Continue."
Training resumed. The practice of Soru was grueling, demanding dozens of rapid stomps in a split second to propel the body explosively.
Most recruits struggled to perform even a single displacement.
Luffy tried again. This time, he sought not one step but many. With reiatsu's micro-adjustments guiding him, his body blurred once more.
Shhhk—!
He appeared ten meters away.
No pause—his foot landed, legs compressed like springs, then burst again.
Shhhk—!
He vanished once more, reappearing in another direction.
Shhhk—! Shhhk—! Shhhk—!
(End of Chapter)
[50 Power Stones = 1 Extra Chapter]
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