Justice of Fate

"Thank you for thinking so highly of me, Admiral Zephyr. This really isn't Uncle Garp's fault. The main thing is, I'm just naturally lazy and don't have much desire for promotion."

Seeing that the two were about to start arguing because of him, Mo Xingchen hurriedly explained. Sengoku spoke up at that moment.

"What kind of justice do you uphold in your heart, boy?"

Mo Xingchen stared at the plaque behind the desk that read "Clean Justice." If I were destined to stay in this world for the rest of my life, I'd definitely give you some line about "People's Justice." But he wasn't. Maybe one day, when Number 6 woke up, he would leave. So he did not know how to answer and could only murmur:

"Probably... Justice of Fate!"

"Hehehe, Justice of Fate? Does that mean anything is acceptable, and nothing is acceptable? Garp, you'd better keep an eye on this kid. One day, he might just betray the Marines and become a pirate."

Vice Admiral Tsuru lifted her teacup and teased him with a smile.

"Sister Tsuru, please have mercy on me. It's not that serious, it's really not. No matter what, I'm still a fine young man with justice in my heart. Why would I give up being a proper soldier to become a thief?"

Mo Xingchen clasped his hands toward Vice Admiral Tsuru with a pleading expression, acting spoiled. Tsuru could not help smiling brightly at his ridiculous appearance. Then she glanced at Zephyr, who was still frowning deeply, and persuaded him.

"Let it go, Zephyr. Young people have their own ideas. Don't interfere too much."

"Yes, exactly. Admiral Zephyr, even if I don't join the Training Camp, I'll still come to ask you for guidance and learn from you whenever I have time," Mo Xingchen hurriedly promised Zephyr.

"Sigh... Fine."

Hearing Tsuru persuade him and Mo Xingchen say the same, Zephyr could only sigh and agree reluctantly.

After the matter was settled, Mo Xingchen obediently served as a waiter for the four big shots, pouring tea and water at the side. He listened to their analysis of events at sea and their discussions of the Marines' future plans, while watching Sengoku and Garp wage war over rice crackers. It was a peaceful, idyllic scene.

Dragon struggled up from the ground, spat out the dirt in his mouth, and looked at the unruffled Mo Xingchen.

"Bro, can't you go a little easier on me?"

"This is nothing. I hit much lighter than your Old Man does. If you want to hit people, you first have to learn how to take a beating. Got it?"

"But why do your hits hurt more than my dad's? After taking a few punches from him, I can still walk and jump around. After getting hit by you a few times, I feel like I can barely stand!"

Mo Xingchen looked at him with disdain.

"That's why I say people in this world are a bunch of brutes and illiterates. Do you understand human anatomy? Looking at those innocent eyes of yours, I can tell you don't. Just remember this: the places where I hit you can make someone numb or stiff. Read more books in the future!"

"Isn't fighting just about whoever has more strength and can punch the other person flying? What does that have to do with reading? And what's human anatomy?"

Seeing Dragon looking like a curious baby, Mo Xingchen covered his forehead, utterly helpless.

"This is too complicated to explain. Even if I tell you, you won't remember it. When I have time, I'll see if there are any relevant books. Then I'll explain it to you with diagrams, and you'll understand. Training ends here for today. Too much is as bad as too little. Remember where I hit you and how you felt afterward. Think it over carefully, understand it properly, and turn it into techniques of your own."

After saying that, he slowly walked out of the training grounds, with Dragon limping after him.

A month passed peacefully. Regarding the New World, the Marines decided to let those Great Pirates tear each other apart. The first half of the Grand Line was handed over to Sakazuki, Borsalino, and other powerful members of the Marines' new generation for training. There were no particularly formidable figures in the Four Seas, so Garp remained idle at headquarters.

During that month, Mo Xingchen spent every morning building favor with the big shots, beat up Dragon every evening, and whenever he had nothing to do in the afternoon, randomly picked a lucky spectator from the Training Camp to beat up in the name of training.

Of course, whenever this happened, Admiral Zephyr became his accomplice. Even Gion and Kake were not spared. In the end, only after a ten-man squad led by Kuzan and Dragon joined forces to suppress him did they manage to curb his arrogance! Yet because of his prankster nature, these scuffles did not make anyone dislike him. Instead, they fostered friendship.

The practical combat experience during this period also benefited Mo Xingchen greatly. Although he was still at the Qi Refining Early Stage, he came to understand that the Misty Immortal Method given to him by Number 6 was not merely a Cultivation Manual. It also contained many other things: the Daoist Canon, spells, Body Tempering, Talismans... and more.

More precisely, it was like a detailed encyclopedia of cultivation. Of course, this knowledge had not directly poured experience into his mind and made him ascend on the spot, invincible beneath the heavens. It was more like having a library stored in his mind. He could look up whatever he needed, but he still had to learn everything himself.

Today, Mo Xingchen had just swiped a pack of rice crackers from Sengoku's office. Because of the incompatibility between worlds, so many spells had failed to work. But yesterday, I finally made progress and learned a compatible technique. He lowered his head, happily humming a tune as he prepared to head to Vice Admiral Tsuru's office to mooch some good tea with the rice crackers. Unexpectedly, he bumped into someone.

"Sorry about that."

Mo Xingchen was in a particularly good mood. He planned to put on a big show when beating up Dragon that night, so he did not even raise his head as he apologized and kept walking.

"Stop!"

Hearing the voice, Mo Xingchen stopped and turned around. Raising his head, he saw a tall man standing before him in a red suit, draped in a Justice Coat, with a cigar clenched between his teeth. Not far away stood another man whose face practically screamed sleazy. So it was Sakazuki and Borsalino.

"Soldier! Didn't your superior teach you to salute when you see an officer? And what is that outfit you're wearing?"

Mo Xingchen had never thought much of certain behaviors from Hawk commanders like Akainu. Pirates slaughtered innocent people because of the ugliness of their humanity, but soldiers were supposed to stand on the side of kindness and protect civilians.

Yet they waved the banner of justice while calmly attacking civilians. That was utterly disgusting.

For example, during the Ohara Buster Call incident, in the original manga, the World Government had already sent a rescue ship to evacuate the island's civilians, yet Akainu still ordered the rescue ship bombarded. What was that supposed to be?

"What business is it of yours?"

So Mo Xingchen tilted his head and replied with disdain.

After all, Mo Xingchen, who had grown up under the red flag and in the spring breeze, remembered deeply those admirable and lovable soldiers of the people.

They could willingly sacrifice themselves to ensure civilians' safe evacuation! They could face enemies without fear of death, like demons! In peaceful times, whenever disaster struck, they risked their lives on the front lines! That was what soldiers were!