The high-ranking Marine officers were itching for a fight, fully prepared to launch a massive operation. However, a single order from the World Government forced them to scrap their entire plan.
No matter how much resentment they felt, they were powerless.
The Marines of this era were a tragedy. In fact, it could be said that from the moment the Marines were founded, they were destined for tragedy. Their existence served solely to uphold the World Government's rule over the entire world. Only after that premise was secured were they permitted to exercise a limited form of justice within a narrow scope.
If they dared to openly rebel, the World Government could simply cut off their funding, which would be enough to cause the entire Marine force to collapse rapidly.
'''
East Blue.
Marine 16th Branch.
"I'm telling you, one of those Warlord executives got knocked cold by a single Fire Fist of mine! It wasn't even a challenge!" Ace bragged, looking incredibly smug.
A large circle of Marines surrounded him, listening with rapt attention.
Suddenly, a figure appeared behind him and delivered a heavy smack to the back of his head.
"Damn it! Who was—" Ace yelled, sent flying over ten meters away. He scrambled to his feet, fury etched on his face at the sneak attack. But a second later, a thought occurred to him. 'Wait, why didn't my elemental transformation trigger?'
It made no sense. He quickly looked back at where he had been standing.
"Uh... Instructor Sanders, you..."
"What are you bragging about?" Sanders countered. "From what I heard, someone else had to freeze Dellinger in place for a split second just to give you a window for a sneak attack. And then, because you were too full of yourself, a wounded Dellinger kicked you right across the field!"
"That... that's because he played dirty! A man wearing high heels is one thing, but those heels were made of Seastone!"
"Bullshit. Do pirates have to announce their trump cards to you before every fight? Or are they supposed to just surrender once they're injured without any right to counterattack?"
"Well..." Ace found himself unable to argue.
He had indeed been careless. He had been riding the high of heavily wounding Dellinger with a Fire Fist when the other man launched a desperate counter. Because Ace was a Logia user—and because the intel Sean had provided stated that Dellinger couldn't use Haki—Ace had completely ignored the attack.
The result...
God only knew those heels were Seastone. It was a nightmare. The most embarrassing part was that he had been kicked straight into the seawater and had to be fished out by several Marines. One of them had even tried to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation; he had nearly suffered permanent psychological trauma.
Now, just as he had finally managed to brag to the recruits, old man Sanders had ruthlessly exposed him. Life was truly unfair.
"What are you standing around for? Get to training! It's been nearly a month, and you still haven't perfectly mastered Soru!" Sanders barked. "Don't forget, the Commodore said that while other students only need to master one of the Six Powers to pass their graduation exam, you have to master at least three!"
"At your current pace, are you planning to fail the exam and start all over from scratch?" Sanders continued. "Oh, according to Commodore Sean, there's a specific word for that... right, a 'repeater'!"
"Have you no shame?" Sanders didn't give Ace a moment to breathe, launching into a full verbal assault. "From now on, your nickname isn't Fire Fist Ace; it's Repeater Ace!"
Ace gritted his teeth in frustration. 'No way! I'm Fire Fist, not a repeater!'
He immediately bolted to an open area and began frantically practicing Soru.
Watching this, Sanders' angry expression vanished, replaced by a slight, knowing smile. He had finally figured out Ace's personality and knew exactly how to motivate him.
In truth, while Sanders claimed Ace's progress was slow, he didn't actually believe it. Learning Soru in less than a month—even if it wasn't yet perfected—was quite impressive. Even in the Headquarters Elite Training Camp, such speed would be considered excellent.
Most students in those camps only mastered one or two of the Six Powers after three years. Even the geniuses who eventually mastered all six usually took several months just to learn a single technique. And "learning" it was far from "mastering" it; true proficiency was only forged through countless battles with pirates during active service.
However, Sean's requirement for Ace was strict: he had to master at least three of the Rokushiki and be able to use them proficiently by the time of his graduation exam.
After dealing with Ace, Sanders turned his attention to another corner of the training grounds. There, a tall female Marine was silently pushing her body to the limit.
Sophia.
She was a woman Lucci had rescued from a village destroyed by pirates in the East Blue. She possessed great natural talent and a relentless drive—the kind of drive that bordered on suicidal. If Sean hadn't made an exception and given her Type One Jerky, she likely would have broken her body long ago with such reckless training.
Because her starting point wasn't as high as Ace's, Sophia hadn't initially possessed the physical foundation required to practice the Six Powers. But now...
"Sophia, stop for a moment!"
"Yes, Instructor Sanders!" Sophia stopped immediately and jogged over.
"Go and test your current Doriki," Sanders said, pointing toward the power tester in the camp.
"Yes, sir!"
Many of the nearby recruits shifted their gaze. They were all curious to see how much Sophia's Doriki had increased over the past month. From a glance, she didn't look physically different; she was still slender, showing no signs of bulky muscle.
She stepped up to the tester, stood firm, and then...
She raised her arm...
She leaned in...
She threw a punch...
BOOM!!!
The thunderous crash gave everyone an immediate impression: the power behind that punch was immense.
Everyone's eyes flew to the scale on the side. The marker climbed rapidly.
100...
200...
300...
Finally, the needle stopped at 385.
A wave of gasps erupted from the recruits. Even Sanders' eyes lit up. It was well known that even among those who graduated from the Headquarters Elite Training Camp after three years, not many could reach a number that high.
Of course, Sanders understood exactly why Sophia had managed to reach a Doriki of nearly 400 in just over three months.
On one hand, it was due to Sophia's relentless, almost suicidal approach to training. On the other, it was the effect of the Type One Jerky.
Take Sanders himself as an example. Because he spent his days training recruits and was getting older, he rarely engaged in heavy exercise beyond a few basic routines. Yet, even with that limited effort, the Type One Jerky had boosted his own Doriki by over 100 during this period.
Now, Sean had begun supplying Type One Jerky to all the recruits.
At this rate, in a year's time... every single Marine in the branch would likely become field-grade officers. While the vast majority would probably only reach the rank of Lieutenant Commander, the implications were staggering.
But what about two years from now? Or three?
What kind of terrifying prospect would that create? Could it be that every single soldier would eventually reach flag officer rank?
'Hiss...'
Just the thought of it made Sanders catch his breath.
Sean's "Justice that Reigns Over All"... it might actually become a reality.
"Sophia, you've done well. Starting tomorrow, you'll be studying the Six Powers under my guidance, just like Ace!"
"Yes, Instructor Sanders!"
Sophia clenched her fist tightly, her voice ringing with excitement.