Under the watchful eyes of dozens of Navy recruits, Yoriichi Tsugikuni and Kyros clashed for over a dozen rounds. In the end, it was Yoriichi who seized upon a single flaw in Kyros' offense, tapping the hilt of his blade lightly against Kyros' wrist, disarming him and narrowly claiming victory.
But instead of groans of disappointnt or sighs of frustration, the surrounding cadets erupted in a chorus of cheers.
Among them, Kibin who had earlier egged Kyros on, was the first to break from the crowd, striding eagerly up to Zephyr and the instructors.
"Next! I'm next!" he called out, eyes blazing with excitent.
"I'm up, Teacher Zephyr, let take the next match!"
But before Kibin could finish his sentence, Lieutenant Shuen who had only monts ago so nobly claid he'd "give others a turn", rushed out as well, grabbing Kibin by the arms and blurting out excitedly, "Teacher Zephyr, please! Let go next!"
Then, turning to Kibin, he added hastily, "Co on, Kibin, cut so slack. Give a humble lieutenant a chance here! I swear I'll return the favor when I get promoted!"
"Get lost!" Kibin snapped. "This is the Navy Academy, not your private officer's club! Don't go flashing your rank around, buzz off and don't block my way!"
"Teacher Zephyr, it's my turn! Let go!"
Unwilling to back down an inch, Kibin tossed Shuen's dignity to the ground, and stomped on it for good asure. And they weren't the only ones. Several other cadets, each convinced they were stronger than Kyros, now scrambled to sign up, desperate not to fall behind.
Zephyr watched the crowd, eyes sharp. Monts ago, these cadets had hesitated, cowered, and held back. But now, after Yoriichi's "hard-fought" victory, they were practically tripping over each other to get a turn. In truth, he was quietly amused, eager to watch the coming chaos—but he schooled his face into a stern mask of authority.
"Hmph!"
"A bunch of fools, the lot of you!"
"Don't say I didn't give you a fair shot, go ahead, all of you co at him together, and you still won't be a match for Yoriichi."
"Since you're all so eager, fine. Step up if you dare."
Zephyr's tone was cold, his gaze razor-sharp.
At this, one sharp-witted cadet's eyes lit up with mischief. A sly grin spread across his face as he raised a hand.
"Teacher Zephyr," he asked with playful audacity, "if we do all go up together… who gets the promotion?"
Zephyr froze.
He hadn't expected anyone to take that throwaway comnt seriously. And yet here it was—soone bold enough to call him on it.
"Hm?"
He turned toward the source of the voice, a tall, broad-shouldered young man in his early twenties, standing with hopeful anticipation.
"Mouseman, you little punk, how could you ask sothing so shaless?!"
"You're the highest-ranking cadet in this class! You're already a Lieutenant! How could you be so brazen?!"
Mouseman, so nicknad, was one of the Navy's fastest-rising stars. He had joined the Navy at sixteen and spent the next few years fighting on the Grand Line, racking up accolades including personally capturing a pirate with a 30-million-berry bounty.
Just a year prior, Lieutenant Mouseman, barely into his twenties, had been transferred to Navy Headquarters Academy. Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself had taken notice of him, and had already spoken with Zephyr—once Mouseman graduated, he would be assigned to Sengoku's ship with the rank of Major.
A Major in his early twenties, with no noble background or political clout—that kind of teoric rise was nearly unheard of.
Mouseman had already mastered Soru and Geppo, two techniques from the Navy's Six Styles. His swordsmanship was sharp and precise. In terms of raw power, he was likely the strongest of all the cadets without question.
But unlike a prodigy like Kuzan, who had caught the attention of top brass as a teenager, Mouseman represented the Navy's commoner class—soone who had clawed his way up through grit and rit alone.
"Heh heh… Don't be mad, Teacher Zephyr," Mouseman chuckled awkwardly.
"You said it first, didn't you? I was just following up, that's all. Don't take it too seriously, haha!"
His oily charm stood in stark contrast to the resolute, stoic officer he would one day beco.
Zephyr shot him a glance, pretending to mull it over. Then, all of a sudden, he raised his voice with a resounding declaration:
"Don't say I don't keep my word!"
"I, Zephyr, have never gone back on a promise!"
"If you all charge in together and win, then each of you gets promoted one rank!"
The announcent sent the cadets into a frenzy. They thought Mouseman's boldness had forced Zephyr to back up his words, and without giving it a second thought, they erupted into cheers.
With a sudden rush, the cadets surged forward, encircling Yoriichi Tsugikuni in a tight ring. Their eyes glead with hunger, each one sizing him up like prey waiting to be carved.
Watching the storm he had stirred, Zephyr smiled faintly. He strolled over to Yoriichi's side, leaned down slightly, and whispered into his ear:
"Yoriichi, strictly speaking, this is your first true appearance at Navy Headquarters."
"Don't hold back. The stronger you are, the more respect you'll earn and the more freedom you'll gain in the future."
"No need to restrain yourself, teach them a lesson or two."
"Just don't cripple or kill anyone."
With that, Zephyr gave his shoulder a firm pat and stepped back.
Yoriichi gave a slight nod. Even if Zephyr hadn't said a word, he already knew what had to be done.
Hide his strength? Lay low?
That kind of thinking had no place in his world.
Though Commander-in-Chief Kong held nominal authority over the Navy, the true pillars of power were Zephyr, Sengoku, Garp, and Tsuru, the generation of giants.
Among them, both Zephyr and Garp had placed their hopes in him. The stronger he proved himself to be, the more pleased they would be. And even though he had yet to interact much with Sengoku or Tsuru, Yoriichi understood them well enough, they weren't the kind to suppress rising talent.
This was the Navy, not Konoha.
There were politics, yes, but far less twisted.
Having made up his mind, Yoriichi gripped the hilt of his blade—then calmly sheathed it back into its scabbard.
The cadets blinked, confused.
Kyros, already defeated once before, quickly dragged his longsword and slipped to the back of the crowd, making it very clear he had no intention of joining the fray.
"It begins now!"
With Zephyr's clear command echoing across the training field, no one paid Kyros any mind. All eyes locked onto Yoriichi Tsugikuni and the bright future that awaited whoever could take him down.
"No need to talk about honor or fair play. We're the Navy, we fight as a team!"
"Sorry, kid, but the mont you stepped onto this field, you should've known what was coming. Everyone, charge!"
At first, there was hesitation. Though Yoriichi stood a solid 170 cm tall, his youthful face betrayed his age, and so cadets clearly felt uneasy about going all-out on a child.
But then soone let out a wild shout and lunged forward, snapping the group into motion. No one knew exactly who it was, it didn't matter.
In that mont, Yoriichi locked onto the voice.
His figure vanished.
Before the others could react, he reappeared in the center of their formation. With a swift swing, he struck the shouting cadet's leg with his scabbard, sending the man crashing to the ground.
"So that's how it's going to be?" he said calmly.
"Then I won't bother with honor, either."
"Get ready, I'm coming in!"
A smile blood on Yoriichi's face, one of genuine enjoynt. In that mont, he finally understood why Garp had always been so eager to spar with him aboard the ship.
This feeling of pushing others to grow… it was deeply satisfying.
No sooner had the words left his lips than his figure blurred into a streak of light, darting through the crowd. In the blink of an eye, cadets were sent flying, crashing hard into the floor with heavy thuds.
Only then did Mouseman and the others realize, they had walked right into Zephyr's trap.
"He's… insanely strong!"
"Who the hell is this guy?!"
"Don't split up! Form up, he's no ordinary kid!"
In the ti it took to blink, Yoriichi had taken out over twenty cadets. Mouseman, now fully aware of the danger, tried desperately to rally the others.
But in the very next second, Yoriichi appeared right in front of him—his scabbard already swinging toward Mouseman's waist.
"So fast!"
The thought had barely ford before the strike landed. With a muffled thud, Mouseman was sent flying and crashed to the ground.
Three minutes.
That was all it took.
The cadets who had once stood tall, ready for morning drills, now lay scattered across the training ground, groaning in pain.
Breathing steady despite the "battle," Yoriichi calmly surveyed the fallen figures around him. Then, with a clear and composed voice, he spoke:
"My na is Yoriichi Tsugikuni. As of today, I'm officially a student at the Navy Academy."
"I hope the seniors here will show a little kindness and I look forward to learning from you all."
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