[ Pirate King Training Plan—Day Two. ]
[ Auto-adjusting to body condition. Sleep time: thirty minutes—achieved. Wake up immediately and begin morning training. Countdown: thirty seconds. ]
It wasn't long past midnight when the warning sounded in Luffy's ear.
He really wanted to go bang on Nami's door and ask her what hour counted as "morning training."
The consequences would be dire, of course.
Yesterday, while studying theory, he'd seen a note about exact time blocks.
Luffy curled his fists.
At this hour, even the training maniac Zoro had just showered and hit the bunk.
"Creepy."
Habit was terrifying.
Luffy got up, left his room, and stepped onto the deck.
Life was like… if you can't resist, quietly enjoy it.
Under Garp's pressure, Luffy had gotten used to it bit by bit.
Now this voice was like Garp's fists. With Grandpa, he could still talk back a little; with this voice, there was no resisting at all.
Using the toilet was the mild version.
Those socially fatal punishments—no matter how thick-skinned he was, he didn't dare test them lightly.
He didn't want his crewmates calling him "Jet Warrior" or "Mr. N-Times-a-Day."
Moonlight barely silvered the deck; the sea breeze carried a chill.
Luffy stood at center deck, hands wrapped around a barbell bar.
This was the simplest physical training—he'd felt it plenty under Garp.
"Nine hundred ninety-seven… nine hundred ninety-eight…"
"This is enough. I want a fight so bad."
This kind of conditioning was way too boring, he thought. What Pirate King trains cooped up on a ship every day?
Don't you rise by clashing with pirates and Marines?
He remembered they were in the East Blue.
Garp would always pick his nose and say the East Blue was the weakest sea. Since setting out, Luffy had felt it. He'd hardly seen pirates, let alone Marines.
No one worth punching!
Creak.
The hatch to the deck swung open.
Yawning, Zoro stretched by habit, ready to start his ironclad morning routine.
He'd done it since he was a kid.
In talent, he trailed many; in effort, none surpassed him—
Then his movement froze. His jaw seemed to lose its hinge; it almost smacked the deck.
"Hey, Luffy—when did you get up?"
Zoro snapped fully awake.
"Twelve-thirty," Luffy panted.
"Twelve-thirty?"
Zoro's eyes bulged. Pupils quaked.
Had Luffy ever even seen the Going Merry at four a.m., much less twelve-thirty?
He remembered exactly when he'd nodded off—the stern clock had barely chimed past midnight.
Which meant this guy had crawled out of bed not long after Zoro lay down—basically the middle of the night?!
Yesterday's all-day, out-of-character training could be chalked up to a captain's whim. But day two? Absolutely not normal.
A day or two ago, Nami could hardly drag him from his blanket; now he was drenched in sweat, hoisting a barbell that looked brutally heavy.
"You okay? Did you and Usopp bet on something again?" Zoro asked, suspicious.
"What kind of stereotype is that?" Luffy deadpanned.
"So a ghost or demon possessed you, then."
"Have you seen a ghost or demon to say that?" Luffy's confidence wobbled.
Calling that voice a ghost or demon wouldn't be wrong.
But would they believe him?
And even if they did, what could they do?
Might as well keep quiet.
"Can you even keep this up?"
Zoro looked him over.
Two bright panda-eye circles, a pale face tinged with sickly yellow, a faint tremor in his body—like he might keel over dead any second.
Worse than after a big battle.
Zoro honestly worried Luffy might drop dead right in front of him.
The old Luffy, faced with that kind of insulting question, would've craned his neck, puckered his lips like a bottle hook, and let out his signature carefree laugh:
"I'm rubber! Zoro, you're the one who can't keep up!"
Loud, and not exactly convincing.
But now—
"Let me sleep a bit first," Luffy said.
"You should've been sleeping already," Zoro muttered.
Then Luffy's eyes shut and he started snoring.
Fastest sleeper ever?
Zoro reached for the barbell in Luffy's hands, but the moment he did, Luffy resurrected on the spot, full of pep. "All right, stamina restored!"
"…Are you really a rubber man?"
Luffy instantly showed off his elasticity, stretching an arm long. He crowed with pride. "I can do it anywhere. Want a look?"
"No, no." Zoro had zero fondness for freakish talents like that.
"Hahaha, don't be so gloomy. You'll never beat me anyway—I'm the captain!"
Luffy cackled and slapped Zoro's shoulder.
This jerk.
"You little—" Zoro swallowed the urge to draw a blade and cut him.
Back up, and it only got more annoying.
"Hey, Luffy—this kind of training is boring, right?" Zoro knew him well.
He didn't know why Luffy could grind harder than he did, but the look on Luffy's face said it all: torture.
"Got a better idea?" Luffy's eyes brightened.
"How about we toughen up by trading blows?" Zoro grinned.
"Hm? I punch you once, you punch me once?"
"No. You punch me once, I punch you ten," Zoro said.
"Zoro, you take me for an idiot? Do I look like an idiot?" Luffy retorted.
Even if he was rubber, he couldn't take that. Zoro's fists hurt.
[ Tip: Significant improvement detected in crewmate Zoro's proposal. Morning session time is low. You may proceed to the next step. Accept Roronoa Zoro's invitation. Countdown: three minutes. ]
The death-rattle countdown buzzed in his skull.
"Zoro—let's do it!"
Good thing he was rubber, or that pendant would've killed him by now.
Even he knew this was dumb!
"You sure?"
Zoro eyed him up and down, skeptical—but confident in his own fists.
"Tell you what. I won't take advantage. If you last till morning, I'll handle your chores for a month."
Men's chores were the worst. Before Nami came aboard, when he and Luffy drifted in a dinghy, they barely wanted to bathe.
After Nami arrived, hygiene got strict.
Even Luffy didn't want Nami staring at him with that look—like he was trash.
That didn't excite him in the least.