One Piece : From Slave to Fleet Admiral

Time passed minute by minute.

The training ground, usually occupied only by Jake, Monet and Zephyr, was now filled with over fifty Marines.

Despite the increased numbers, the field remained eerily quiet—everyone maintaining a tense, unspoken silence.

Everyone lined up in the order of their arrival, with Jake and the others standing closest to the podium.

Zephyr, however, was frowning as he repeatedly counted the number of people who had arrived.

The assembly time was almost upon them, yet two Marines still hadn't reported in.

Zephyr slightly furrowed his brows.

Having long memorized everyone's records, he naturally knew exactly who the two absentees were—Hina, who had eaten the Cage-Cage Fruit and Smoker, who had eaten the Smoke-Smoke Fruit.

Both of them had come from the Marine branch in Loguetown.

According to the evaluations from their recommenders, Smoker was a troublemaker, while Hina, though more level-headed than him, often followed Smoker's reckless lead.

Given that, this last-minute arrival was most likely Smoker's doing.

With thirty seconds left on the clock, a slightly flustered female voice rang out, tinged with frustation.

"Smoker, hurry up! We're about to be late. Hina doesn't want to be labeled a troublemaker on the very first day like you! Move it! Hina is very anxious!"

Following her words, a deep, displeased voice responded with impatience.

"I know, stop nagging. There's still thirty seconds left, isn't there? As long as we're not late, it's fine!"

As the two spoke, the crowd's gaze gradually shifted towards the back.

There, a woman with smooth pink hair, her face flushed and panting, was dragging a white-haired, buzz-cut young man by the hand as they sprinted towards the training grounds.

Noticing the collective stares, Hina's face turned even redder.

She bowed apologetically towards Zephyr on the podium and said.

"Apologies, Zephyr-sensei. Hina and Smoker are late. Hina is deeply ashamed."

But Zephyr didn't acknowledge her apology.

Instead, he calmly began counting down.

"10... 9... 8..."

Hina froze in confusion, but Smoker immediately realized what was happening.

Grabbing Hina, his legs transformed into smoke and in less than two seconds, he crossed the fifty-meter distance, landing at the front of the training grounds.

With a nonchalant expression, he addressed Zephyr.

"We're not late yet, right, Zephyr-sensei?"

Watching the smug look on Smoker's face, Jake couldn't help but feel amused.

It seemed everyone had their rebellious youth—this white-haired kid before him was almost unrecognizable compared to the composed and mature "White Chase" from the original story.

Noticing Jake's gaze, Smoker glanced back at him, his eyes filled with faint displeasure.

Jake understood that resentment well.

It was like in middle school, where hotheaded youths instinctively despised the rule-abiding, studious kids, harboring a natural disdain and hostility towards them.

Of course, it might also have been Jake's unabashed staring that caused the issue.

But Jake didn't care.

Soon enough, he'd have a chance to properly teach Smoker.

After all, between words and fists, one of them was bound to get through.

Faced with Smoker's question, Zephyr gave him a sidelong glance before replying flatly.

"Jake, go teach this guy a lesson. Although he wasn't late, arriving exactly on time means being late in my book. You've got two minutes. If you don't take down that white-haired kid within two minutes, your training quota doubles today."

Hearing Zephyr's sudden command, Jake felt somewhat surprised but not particularly resistant.

Zephyr probably wanted him to establish his authority as the top-ranked student of this batch in front of the newcomers.

Plus, Zephyr might have taken a dislike to Smoker, hence the order.

As he pondered, Jake stepped forward from the front of the line.

He looked at Smoker with a faint smile and greeted him politely.

"Though it's a bit awkward to spar right after meeting, consider this a friendly match between classmates. I hope we can get along well. I'm Jake, a Mythical Zoan-type Model: Seraphim Devil Fruit user."

Smoker showed no surprise at Jake's words.

White smoke began emanating from his body as he replied with a hint of arrogance.

"Yeah, I know you. The news has been full of stories about you lately—hailed as the next pillar of the future Marines. But I've never trusted what those newspapers say. Let me see your real skills. If you can beat me, I'll acknowledge you. By the way, I'm Smoker, Logia-type Smoke Devil Fruit user!"

The moment Smoker finished speaking, his lower body transformed into smoke as he charged straight at Jake.

The onlookers watched the scene unfold with palpable excitement.

They all recognized Jake, who had been praised in the papers as the future of the Marines and Smoker, who had been capturing pirates with bounties in the tens of millions for years.

(Smoker is 21, Hina is 19, Jake is 16, Monet is 15)

Among this batch of recruits, it was almost universally assumed that the top spot would go to one of these two.

Now was the moment to settle the score—how could they not be thrilled?

Monet watched Smoker charge toward Jake without a hint of concern.

That speed was far too slow, not even matching her own, let alone Jake, who was many times faster.

Against an opponent like Smoker, Monet believed Jake could end the fight in an instant.

Binz and Ain, however, frowned slightly at the scene.

For these Marine recruits, the elemental intangibility of a Logia-type Devil Fruit was an insurmountable hurdle.

But since Zephyr had spoken so confidently, Jake should have no trouble handling it.

Hina noticed the expression on Monet's face.

Catching the faint hint of disdain in her gaze, she instinctively called out to Smoker:

"Smoker! Be careful! Don't rely too much on your Logia intangibility!"

But by the time Hina's warning left her lips, Smoker's face had already made intimate contact with Jake's wrapped Armament Haki fist.

It was the first time since obtaining his Devil Fruit that Smoker had been struck by a purely physical attack like a fist.

As pain shot through his face, he felt as though his consciousness might scatter from the impact.

What's with this guy's fists?!

So heavy!

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