Grand Line.
The warship's engine hummed a steady rhythm, a constant companion on the vast, open ocean.
Inside the vessel's dedicated training room, the air was thick with the sounds of intense physical combat.
"Thud—! Thud—!"
Kuro and Smoker's sparring session was in full swing.
Kuro, moving with a speed that belied his former life as a meticulous planner, slammed a heavy punch into Smoker's chest.
A faint, metallic black sheen flickered around Kuro's fist—the tell-tale sign of newly condensed Armament Haki.
"Wham—!"
Smoker was sent flying, his body arcing through the air before he expertly twisted and landed on his feet, skidding to a halt.
He dusted off his chest with a look of genuine surprise on his face.
"Cough... You've already learned to condense Armament Haki this quickly?" he asked, his tone a mixture of disbelief and grudging respect.
Smoker knew exactly who Kuro was—the infamous "Hundred Plans" Kuro of the Black Cat Pirates.
He also knew, from the file he'd reviewed, that Kuro hadn't been following Mike for very long.
Before this, he couldn't have possibly known Haki—his bounty would have been far higher than a mere 16 million Belly.
But now, he could land a solid, Haki-infused blow on his elementalized Logia form.
'His progress is way too fast,' Smoker thought.
'Is this the power that kid Mike grants to his followers?'
"Captain Mike has bestowed upon me an extraordinary talent," Kuro said, his gaze firm.
He knew, thanks to the Demon God Conduit, that his own potential now stretched to the level of a Marine Vice Admiral or maybe an Admiral.
The Captain's advice was to wait for a suitable Devil Fruit to complement his abilities.
Until then, his focus was entirely on honing his physical skills and handling the Captain's administrative duties.
"True," Smoker's tone lowered, his gaze sharp.
"But Kuro, your current strength is impressive, yet your official rank is still just a Seaman recruit. Is that really enough for you?"
"Captain Smoker," Kuro replied, his eyes gleaming with an unwavering determination.
"Rank doesn't matter to me. What matters... is being by Captain Mike's side."
The words were a vow, spoken from the depths of his heart.
"..."
Smoker paused, the sharpness in his eyes softening into something more complex.
He couldn't help but chuckle.
'That kid really does have a unique charisma.'
"True," he shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. "That guy isn't just terrifyingly strong—his insights are always on a completely different level."
He lit a cigar, taking a deep drag.
He subconsciously touched the peculiar test tubes now clipped to the inside of his jacket, a replacement for his usual row of cigars.
His thoughts drifted back to the deep conversation he'd had with Mike just before they'd set off for Alabasta.
...
"Smoker, hand over your motorcycle," Mike's words had echoed in his ears.
"And in return, I'll do my utmost to help you get stronger."
"You know this well," Mike had continued, his lazy demeanor replaced by a sharp, analytical gaze.
"Logia-type Fruits aren't invincible. Anyone proficient in Armament Haki can hit you. Some Logias even have fatal weaknesses. Crocodile's Sand-Sand Fruit will get weaken with water. The Rumble-Rumble Fruit is useless against rubber. Your path to true strength has three directions."
He had raised three fingers.
"First, and most obvious: refine your physical combat and Haki. Haki reigns supreme. Without Conqueror's haki, you must push your Armament and Observation to their absolute limits."
"Second," Mike had said, a sly glint in his eye, "you need to evolve your Devil Fruit abilities. You're thinking too simply. Your smoke is just smoke. But what if it wasn't? What if you incorporated acidic or toxic elements into it?"
Smoker's heart had jolted.
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it," Mike had explained, a predatory grin on his face.
"Acid mist. Toxic fog. As a Smoke-Smoke Fruit user, you'd be immune, but your enemies would have their weapons dissolved and their bodies poisoned. You could also refine your control. Fill a sealed area with smoke to create a vacuum and suffocate your opponents. Or, better yet," Mike's grin had widened.
"Adjust the gas composition within the smoke and introduce a spark. A massive explosion. Remember, a big enough explosion can deal devastating damage to even the most powerful foes."
A spark of astonishment had flickered in Smoker's eyes.
It was as if Mike had opened a door to a room he never knew existed.
He had only ever used his fruit at a surface level.
"And third," Mike had chuckled, his tone turning mysterious, "I'll tell you about that once we reach Headquarters. Let's just say it's a bit of a... cheat."
...
"It's time to rest."
Kuro's voice snapped Smoker out of his thoughts.
"Captain Mike said we should balance work and relaxation."
"Rest time already?" Smoker blinked, a trace of confusion giving way to an eager anticipation.
"Then let's hurry!" he said, his voice carrying a barely concealed excitement.
Though the training was grueling, the daily rest periods had become his most anticipated moments.
This new philosophy—a balance between exertion and relaxation—was deeply satisfying.
Every day brought tangible progress, but he was starting to understand that resting time was just as crucial.
Especially since Mike had introduced them to a certain "board game" to pass the time.
A game he called "Mahjong."
-----------------------------
Read 40 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.
patreon (.)com/Newbietranslator