Night fell upon the restless sea.
Inside the cabin, Kyle was sprawled out in his hammock. Though his face still showed a few faint bruises and his body was wrapped in bandages, a wide grin was plastered on his face. He was lost in a vivid dream. In it, he stood atop a palace made of pure gold, a black-gold naginata held firmly in his hands, its blade shimmering with a unique, wave-like pattern. Before him, a massive Marine fleet filled the ocean, with an Admiral at its head staring at him with a grave expression. With a single swing of his weapon, the entire sea ripped apart like a sheet of cloth. Giant waves surged forward, completely annihilating the fleet. As he sat upon a golden throne, countless treasures and beautiful women flocked to him, and powerful warriors knelt, pledging their allegiance.
"Kekekekeke…"
A strange, arrogant cackle escaped Kyle's throat, sounding particularly jarring in the quiet cabin.
Rayleigh, who had been leaning against the doorway cleaning his sword, paused his work. He raised a hand to his forehead with a helpless sigh. This kid couldn't even find peace in his dreams. He quietly stepped out of the cabin, leaving the space to the young dreamer.
On the deck, the moonlight was like liquid silver, spilling across the shimmering sea and reflecting in countless tiny specks of light. Roger sat alone at the bow of the ship, leaning against the figurehead and taking a long swig of rum from a bottle.
"Did he bother you?" Roger asked without turning around, his voice filled with amusement.
"Not really," Rayleigh said as he walked over and sat down beside him, placing his sword across his lap. "He's just some kid cackling in his sleep."
"Kuhahaha! He must be having a pretty interesting dream!" Roger took another gulp of rum before turning to face Rayleigh. "Speaking of which, you saw that attack he used this afternoon, right?"
"Mhm." Rayleigh pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It was a good idea, and his timing was perfect."
"It was more than just good!" Roger's eyes gleamed with excitement. He pinched his thumb and index finger together, leaving only a tiny space between them. "That power… it actually made me feel a tiny bit of a threat! About this much! Kuhahaha!"
Hearing this, the look in Rayleigh's eyes deepened. He thought for a moment before speaking again. "It's not just about his power. Roger, have you noticed that Kyle's performance during this month's 'Loving Feeding' training has been a little off?"
"Oh?" Roger's interest was piqued. "What's off about it?"
"At first, he was just relying on his eyes and ears—on his body's natural instincts. But over this past week," Rayleigh explained, recalling the scene from that evening, "his evasive movements have become almost unbelievable. Several times, the wooden planks I threw and the fish you tossed from behind him were about to hit him at the same time, but he always managed to dodge in the most precise, energy-efficient way possible. Could it be…"
Roger's broad smile faded slightly as he listened. He remained silent for a moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh and burst into thunderous laughter.
"Kuhahahahaha! So that's what it is! Observation Haki, huh."
Of course, Roger had noticed it too. He just didn't like to analyze things as deeply as Rayleigh did; he preferred to trust his gut feelings. He could sense a new power budding within Kyle, a raw, developing ability that could grant him glimpses of the future.
"That kid probably has no idea what he's doing," Rayleigh said, glancing toward the cabin with a playful smile.
"That's what makes it fun! Kuhahaha!" Roger drained the last of the rum from his bottle and casually tossed it into the sea, where it made a small splash. He stood up and spread his arms wide, as if trying to embrace the entire starry ocean.
Rayleigh looked at his eternally energetic captain and couldn't help but chuckle. He adjusted his glasses and looked up at the deep night sky, murmuring with a sense of wonder, "We really… we picked up an incredible monster, didn't we?"
"Kuhahahahaha!"
Roger's unrestrained laughter echoed far across the silent sea, startling a few seabirds that were circling overhead.
Thump!
A dull thud came from inside the cabin as Kyle fell out of his hammock, followed by his groggy complaints.
"Damn it, Captain! What's so funny?! I was at the best part of my dream, you jerk!"
"Kuhahahahaha!"
…
My name is Kyle, and I am a student. I am being tutored by two very different masters. People from my past life used to have a joke about it: Rayleigh was the 'False Master' who only misled his students, while Roger was the 'True Master.' His training was simple and direct: one hit would teach you advanced Haki, two would teach you Haki coating, and three would lead to a Devil Fruit Awakening. Follow him, and you'd become a Yonko in no time. But now, that assessment didn't seem entirely correct. The young Rayleigh was actually a good teacher… for the most part.
Kyle felt no shame in latching onto Roger and Rayleigh's strength. He felt incredibly powerful now, having them as his mentors. He eagerly hoped that some foolish pirates would try to rob them so he could finally test the results of his training. Unfortunately, their ship was so rundown that any pirates who saw it would probably take pity on them and toss them a few hundred Berries. Forget about finding a fight; he was stuck on a broken-down ship with two men who were already at an Emperor-level right out of the starting gate. It was like being a level-one slime trying to fight the final bosses.
Bang!
Roger's simple but powerful punch landed squarely on Kyle's head, interrupting his wild thoughts and instantly raising a visible bump.
"Damn it, Captain! What was that for?!" I'm going to report you for child abuse!
"Kuhahaha! You gotta catch me first!" Roger laughed carelessly and took off running.
With his eyes practically shooting fire, Kyle scrambled to his feet and chased after him. The two figures, one large and one small, ran wildly around the cabin. Watching the childish scene unfold, Rayleigh helplessly rubbed his forehead, feeling a wave of exhaustion and a sense of dread for the future.
…
Voyaging on the sea was a romantic adventure, but it was also a long and lonely journey. Kyle had come to this conclusion a week ago as he stared blankly at the unchanging line where the sea met the sky. Adventure? Exciting encounters? They didn't exist. The life of a pirate, he decided, was simple, unadorned, and incredibly boring.
They had been drifting at sea for almost two months since leaving that nameless island. Aside from the occasional Sea King that tried to mistake their broken ship for a snack—only to be put down by a single sword strike from Roger—life was as bland as water.
"Ah, ocean, you're all water!" Kyle groaned, feeling like he was about to grow mushrooms from boredom. He sat cross-legged at the bow and idly lifted a finger. The air in front of his fingertip vibrated slightly, and a wisp of breeze materialized out of nowhere. It swirled around the mast's canvas sail before playfully messing up the golden hair on Rayleigh's forehead.
Rayleigh looked up from his book and shot Kyle a look that clearly said, "If you cause any more trouble, you're not getting dinner tonight."
The mischievous Kyle laughed awkwardly and sullenly lowered his hand. For the past month, besides his hellish physical training, he had spent most of his time practicing precise control over his Wave-Wave Fruit. This little trick, which he called "Breeze at Dawn," was created by controlling subtle air vibrations to generate airflow. It was surprisingly useful; in the Calm Belt, he could even act as a fan for the sails. Of course, more often than not, he was just Roger's personal air conditioner.
"Little Kyle! Over here, over here! Make it a bit cooler!" Roger called out, sprawled on the deck like a sun-dried fish with a large roasted meat leg in his hand.
Kyle rolled his eyes but reluctantly waved his hand in Roger's direction, sending a refreshing, cool breeze his way. This had become his daily routine on the ship.
Under Roger and Rayleigh's devilish training, his body had grown visibly stronger and tougher. His strength, speed, and endurance were far beyond what they had been. His control of the Wave-Wave Fruit had also become more refined; he was no longer the novice who only knew a single move like "Shock Punch." He could feel himself getting stronger every day, but he lacked a real outlet to prove it. Kyle felt like a finely tempered blade that had yet to be sharpened, and he desperately craved a good fight to test his edge.
Sparring with Roger didn't count. That wasn't a battle; it was a one-sided beating.
"Aaargh—I'm so bored!" Kyle yelled at the sky before flopping onto the deck. "I'd take anything right now! Marines! Pirates! Even a meteor!"
"Kuhahaha! The kid's got a lot of energy!" Roger laughed, finishing the last bite of meat and tossing the bone into the sea. He jumped to his feet with a swift movement. "Want to have another 'Loving Feeding' training session?"
Kyle instantly shot up from the deck, looking warily at Roger and then at Rayleigh, who had quietly put down his book.
"No! Absolutely not!" He now had a deep fear of sea fish and barrels. That damn supreme sea fish Roger used always seemed to aim for his backside.
Just then, Rayleigh, who had been reading nearby, spoke up. "You two," he said calmly, "we have guests."
"Huh?" Roger and Kyle looked up at the same time.
"Northeast, three o'clock position," Rayleigh said, closing his book. "A three-masted ship is heading our way. It's moving fast, and based on its flag, it's a pirate ship."