Seeing the long-legged beautiful girl glaring at him, Wood looked completely dumbfounded.
To be fair, his scores were middling—he couldn't even crack the top three. Even if the girl was competitive, there was no reason for her to target him, the fourth-place finisher.
But Wood, whose mental age far surpassed his physical appearance, knew that trying to reason with a teenage girl was asking for trouble.
And being on the bad side of a girl like this would only bring more headaches, so Wood raised his hand and spoke up: "Instructor, I think Classmate Gion is absolutely right.
Since we both scored three misses, our results should be tied.
And if we put ourselves in another perspective—if the person standing next to the pirate wasn't a pirate, but a Marine fighting one...
Then I believe my score should actually be fifth... no, tenth place, because hitting an ally is worse than those who didn't fire at all."
It was just a test ranking anyway. Even first place came with no prize money. This way, he could defuse the girl's grudge while staying perfectly in line with his middle-of-the-road persona. Why not?
Wood considered himself a mature person. There was no need to argue with a bunch of kids. Besides, he had no sense of collective honor toward the Marines. He was here just to land a decent job in the future.
"For you to hold yourself to such a strict standard, as your instructor, I'm quite pleased. But a test is a test.
The results have been announced, so they can't be changed. And I don't believe my judgment was wrong."
In formal training, questioning the instructor's judgment was highly disrespectful, and could even lead to a demerit.
Wood didn't have the powerful backing Gion did. He thought he'd be reprimanded, but to his surprise, the Captain Instructor seemed to have misunderstood something.
Instead of scolding Wood, he looked at him with approval, believing Wood had brought up the bizarre example of hitting an ally purely to hold himself to a higher standard...
Then the Captain Instructor turned to Gion and said, "You should learn from Wood. Instead of fighting over this meaningless fourth place, he's thinking about how to be stricter with himself.
And he's shown humility toward a fellow soldier. While you excel in other subjects, in terms of character, the difference is clear."
Hearing the Captain Instructor's praise, Wood was genuinely stunned. Had he really considered all that? Since when did he, Wood, know any of that?!
And Instructor, please stop talking... If you keep going, not only will you fail to defuse the girl's grudge, you'll make her hate me even more!
"Hmph, I don't need your charity. I'll surpass you with my own strength.
I, Gion, will remember this grudge!"
Wood: "..."
Wood was truly exhausted. He felt sure he must have approached this the wrong way.
He was just fourth place! Why was he being targeted even like this? If he'd known it would turn out this way, he wouldn't have fired a single shot from the start...
Marineford, Marine Academy Cafeteria
After finishing the day's basic courses and secretly finding a place to practice a thousand sword swings, Wood arrived at the cafeteria, starving.
Back when he left Maple Leaf Island, Wood had completed the one-year mission of guarding the island and received a reward: one chance to use the "Life Simulator."
At the time, he hadn't used it because of his severe injuries and because Zephyr had been on the same ship.
Now that he'd been at Marine Headquarters for a while and life had stabilized, Wood planned to find time tonight for his second life simulation.
"That's him, right? Name's Wood, I think. This kid doesn't look that old..."
"Not old, but his shooting's impressive! I heard his bullet hit Gion, and now she's sworn to remember him."
"Look at how much he's eating. No wonder his shooting could humble Gion. Maybe he's just young, but he's got real skill."
Holding a tray piled with several times the normal amount of food, Wood listened to the gossip around him and wore a helpless expression.
Marines were human too—they loved to gossip. And because training was so monotonous, the higher-ups weren't overly strict with the recruits about it.
The grueling daily routine needed some distractions.
As for the chatter around him, Wood had grown used to it over the past few days. Compared to these talkers, he knew the real trouble hadn't shown up yet.
He'd barely sat down to eat when a stir rippled through the cafeteria crowd. A young man in his early twenties, with a prematurely aged face and a squinting smile, appeared surrounded by a group of new recruits.
The young man at the center was named Kaji. He was a year ahead of Wood and the top student of his class.
Kaji wasn't much to look at, but ever since Akainu and Aokiji had left, he dominated every subject's scores.
They weren't in the same class, and he was clearly a top student. Normally, someone like Wood, a nobody, would never cross paths with him.
But the problem was that the girl Wood had offended a few days ago was far more important than he'd imagined!
Gion—just hearing the name might not ring a bell for some, including Wood.
But if you mentioned her future epithet, most people would have a sudden realization.
"Momousagi"—that was the nickname Gion would later earn. Wood had only discovered this after some investigation a few days ago.
After offending a girl who seemed to have a significant background, Wood's cautious nature led him to do some quiet digging.
And because the Captain Instructor from shooting class admired Wood's character, when Wood said he wanted to learn about Gion to find a chance to apologize, the instructor readily gave him Gion's file.
If it were a Marine officer's file, the instructor wouldn't have leaked it so easily. But since both Wood and Gion were recruits, there was no issue.
When Wood saw that she was connected to Vice Admiral Tsuru and that her weapon was the Great Grade Sword Kompira, he instantly understood Gion's identity.
An ordinary Marine recruit couldn't possibly possess such a valuable Great Grade Sword. And as for "Kompira," Wood remembered only one person had ever wielded it.
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