Lying on the flimsy wooden bed, Loya silently invoked his "Golden Finger" and opened his status panel.
Na: Christopher Loya
Energy Stage: Tier 2, Level 0
Energy Value: 0/400
Magic Power: 500/500
Magic Recovery Rate: 100/min
"As expected, by the second tier, ordinary food provides pathetically little energy." Loya sighed. He had checked his panel secretly while in the ss hall, initially hoping to see if others could see it, only to be stunned by the "0" on his progress bar. After gorging himself and eating those marrow bones on the way to the infirmary, the "0" had only climbed to a negligible amount. If it was this hard to level up at the very beginning of Tier 2, what would it be like later?
"Do I need high-grade ingredients? But this is the world of One Piece, not Toriko! Where am I supposed to find high-grade ingredients?!" Loya rubbed his head in frustration.
Two days later, afternoon.
Loya was dozing in his cabin after taking his seasickness dicine when a commotion woke him. He put on his shoes and stumbled toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, it was pulled open from the outside. Loya caught off guard, pitched forward, but a pair of large hands caught his shoulders, steadying him.
Loya looked up and greeted weakly, "Good afternoon... Vice Admiral Momonga."
"Your seasickness is getting worse," Momonga said, observing Loya's pale complexion with concern. In this state, Loya couldn't even stand, let alone fight.
"Yeah... I guess I'll have to request a stationary post," Loya pulled a strained, grim smile.
"That's a long way off. We'll see what the Fleet Admiral decides. But you're free today—we've arrived at Marineford."
Loya's eyes lit up. He looked over Momonga's shoulder, and there it was: the massive military fortress rising from the horizon. Even from this distance, the bold characters for "Marine" on the fortress gate were clear. This was the Marine Headquarters, one of the three great powers of the Grand Line!
"Finally... finally here!" Loya's eyes welled up. The last few days had been torture; the dicine was becoming less effective, and he had been too sick to eat. He had contemplated jumping ship more than once just to escape the misery, but that was a foolish pipe dream.
Now, the suffering was over!
Seeing Loya's reaction, Momonga felt his own eyes grow moist. He pulled Loya to the railing, pointed at the fortress, and said excitedly, "Yes, we're here... take a good look!"
Loya: "..."
"Vice Admiral... I'm not dead yet..."
Regardless, Loya was free. The warship docked amidst cheers. Loya refused to be carried off on a stretcher—who knew if the system would classify a stretcher as a "vehicle"?
As he stepped onto solid ground, Loya instantly sprang to life, energized as if he'd been injected with stimulants. An uncontrollable surge of frigid air erupted from him.
"I, Hu Hansan, have returned! Hahahaha!"
Because Loya had been so sick, Momonga had let him disembark first. Momonga, trailing behind, reflexively jumped back onto the deck when the sudden cold blast hit. Only after he jumped back did he realize he'd made a mistake—the Marines on the dock around Loya were now shivering, their skin turning blue with cold.
"Loya!" Momonga roared, eyes blazing. He vanished from his spot and reappeared instantly in front of Loya.
"Huh?" Loya didn't react in ti. What is Momonga doing? He looks like he's about to punch —wait, is that Busoshoku Haki on his fist?!
Before he could process the thought, he didn't dodge.
THUD!
Loya flew backward, crashing through the ship's hull and landing deep inside the cabin. The entire warship rocked from the impact, sending a wave of water surging toward the Marines on the dock.
"Ara ara, what a lively scene."
Nearby on the dock, a tall man in a white vest and blue shirt stood expressionless, pointing his hands toward the surging wave.
"Ice Age!"
With the sound, his hands transford into two pillars of ice that shot forward, locking onto the wave.
Crack... crack.
The nacing wave froze, solidifying into a jagged ice sculpture. The rescued Marines glanced at him with awe before rushing to help their colleagues.
"So that's the kid Momonga ntioned, the one who wants to join the Marines?"
The speaker was a robust old man in a purple suit with spiky purple hair; his muscles were as dense as tree roots. This was the forr Admiral and current head of the Marine recruit training camp, "Black Arm" Zephyr. In this era, he didn't yet have his chanical "Smash" arm, only a simple black prosthetic.
Kuzan, having retracted his hands, pulled his sleep mask back up lazily. "Yeah. Heard he uses ice powers too, so I ca to see... but honestly, he looks like nothing special."
"Don't let pride blind you, Kuzan," Zephyr said sternly. "He's still young. With proper training, his future potential is limitless."
"Ara ara, the teacher is lecturing again," Kuzan muttered. "Yes, yes, Zephyr-sensei."
When Loya woke up, it was already dark. He stared blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling before leaping off the bed.
"Bastard! Daring to sneak attack ! I'll fight you for three hundred rounds!"
Ice crystals spitting from his mouth, Loya swung his arms wildly.
"Be quiet, you brat!"
A roar interrupted him. Loya turned to see an old man with purple hair sitting on a nearby bed, arms folded, glaring at him with annoyance.
"Black Arm Zephyr!" Loya's eyes narrowed, his survival instincts screaming at him to flee. This was the head of the Marine recruits—the man who would eventually try to destroy the New World!
He started to run, then stopped. Wait. Kuzan is still an Admiral; Zephyr hasn't defected to form the Neo-Marines yet. I don't need to fear him!
Loya offered a cautious smile. "Um... are you Mr. Zephyr?"
"Hmph!" Zephyr snorted impatiently. "You should be calling 'Teacher,' Loya, you brat!"
"T-Teacher?" Loya tilted his head. "Zephyr-san... I an, Teacher—what's going on? When did you take as an apprentice?"
"I didn't take you as an apprentice. But since you've joined the recruit camp, regulations dictate you call 'Teacher'," Zephyr explained briefly. "Of course, if you want to beco my actual student, first, you need to improve your physique. The fact that Momonga's punch knocked you out this long shows how pathetic you are."
Zephyr left one thing out: very few recruits got to call him "Teacher"—only the absolute elite of the elite. General recruits rely called him "Admiral Zephyr" or "Instructor Zephyr."
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