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In May of 1510, a heavy snowfall blanketed Marineford.
The temperature plunged by more than twenty degrees. White stretched between heaven and earth, frost and mist hung thick, and bitter winds howled.
A squad of Marines on rotation patrolled along Crescent Harbor. After a while, their hands and feet inevitably grew numb with cold.
"It's freezing..."
A scrawny recruit who had only recently transferred to headquarters rubbed his hands together and breathed out a cloud of warmth. "The weather's been so strange this year. Snow this heavy, at this time of year..."
As he spoke, he instinctively glanced at the burly sergeant leading them, envy written across his face. "Captain, are you really not cold at all? You haven't even put on a padded coat. If I wore as little as you, I'd probably freeze to death out here."
"Hahaha, silly boy. I'm from the North Blue, just like you. I'm used to it. Besides, with a body like mine, how could a little drop in temperature bother me?"
The veteran sergeant lit a cigarette and patted his shoulder, encouraging him with a smile. "That's why I keep telling you to train harder, X Drake. Once you're as strong as me, weather that looks this nasty will be nothing."
"As strong as you?"
The scrawny recruit, X Drake, scratched his head. "That feels so far away. You're so strong, Captain. I don't know if I'll ever catch up to you."
"No ambition at all! Can't you aim a little higher? You should at least surpass your father, shouldn't you?"
The veteran sergeant exhaled a puff of smoke. "My strength doesn't amount to much at headquarters. I'm not even qualified to take part in this war."
"Huh???"
X Drake's eyes widened. "No way. Not even you..."
"What did you expect?