What to Do When Your Stamina Is Too Enduring

Why was this guy still running?

Brandon froze for a moment and instinctively glanced at the little notebook in his hand. The accumulated lap count had already reached a terrifying number.

188 laps.

That was more than three or four times the average standard for recruits of the same class.

Was he even human?

After racking his brains for a while, Brandon recalled that in the entire eleven-year history of the Elite Training Camp, only three people had achieved a higher score than this in their first-year endurance assessment.

But what kind of monsters had those three been?

Sakazuki.

Kuzan.

Kizaru.

Zephyr's three most outstanding disciples to date, all Logia Devil Fruit users. The moment they graduated, they had been granted the rank of rear admiral, and now all held important positions as vice admirals at Marine Headquarters.

Their futures as admirals were practically set in stone.

Did Noah really have that kind of potential too?

"Wait, so that bad feeling I had earlier was about this..."

Brandon's left hand, which held the orange juice, suddenly stiffened. His expression became rather complicated. "Don't tell me I'm going to miss dinner because of this brat?"

The facts soon proved it.

For once, Brandon, a man who had always had terrible luck, had an unexpectedly accurate premonition.

More than an hour passed, and night had completely fallen. Nearly all the recruits had already left the training grounds for dinner.

Only Noah was still running wildly around the track alone, grinning happily.

There was still no sign of him slowing down.

"240 laps..."

Half-starved, Brandon lay slumped across a bench like a wilted seal washed ashore. Staring weakly at the scoreboard, he muttered, "What kind of joke is this? He's already beaten Kizaru and Kuzan's records..."

Only Sakazuki's record of 250 laps