"Iron Fist" Fullbody shared a title with the Marine hero Iron Fist Garp. That showed just how ambitious he was.
He was sixteen years old and had been promoted to sergeant major after only six months as a Marine.
Though his promotion was partly thanks to the legacy of his parents, who had died in battle as Marines at Headquarters, it was mostly because of his talent and strength!
His Doriki Value test score had reached a whopping 98!
He had a pair of brass knuckles, and that was all. Yet he was sixteen and already had a Doriki Value of 98!
What did that mean?
He could take on ten people at once! Ten armed Marines!
Against ordinary villagers, he'd be an unmatched war god, as if a heavenly soldier had descended to earth!
Faced with Drake's plain, clumsy palm strike, devoid of angles or technique, Fullbody raised his arm with the ease of long experience.
He positioned it to shield the left side of his face, then flashed a confident, dashing smile and casually winked at the girls.
In the next moment, he'd effortlessly block the blow, ask, "Is that all you've got?" then shake his head with a cold laugh and return the favor.
With everyone watching, Drake's palm struck home.
Smack!
Fullbody's face contorted as Drake's palm slapped his brass knuckles into his face. His lips flipped up like a duck's bill.
He spun in place more than a dozen times and crashed down in a daze. His face was already swollen and bruised, and he stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to recover for a long while.
Drake's hand trembled. He realized that everyone around him, young and old, male and female, was staring at him. He'd lost control and hit someone. If they'd been on a pirate crew, his father would surely have punished him.
And if he had to pay for the medical bills, he didn't have any money...
Fear crept up his spine. He wanted to bow and apologize, and let Fullbody punch him once in return... No! Ten times! Until he felt better!
"Sorry..."
"Way to go! Hahaha!" Conrad jumped onto a chair and clapped Drake on the shoulder. He was at least six-foot-three, and hadn't even finished growing yet.
Drake looked at Conrad. "I... I hit someone."
"I saw." Conrad's eyes were full of approval. "Shouldn't you be happy you won?"
Drake stared blankly at Conrad, as if he were looking at the stars in a snowy night sky. His trembling gradually stopped, and he relaxed. Then he cautiously asked, "We can't just hit people, right?"
"It's fine. He was asking for trouble." Conrad clasped his hands behind his back. "With that little skill, he wants to act like the big man? What a joke."
By then, Smoker had reached the service window. He waved to them. "Hey! You two! Get over here!"
He acted as if the fight were no big deal, and didn't bother hiding that he knew them, even as people glared in annoyance.
A little nobody like Fullbody wouldn't bother Conrad. The two went to the window to register their temporary stay and collect their dormitory keys and room number.
Fullbody came to his senses and realized he'd lost. Gritting his teeth, he ran out of the hall. "Damn it! He was so strong, and he pretended to be a rookie! I... I'll get even someday! The training ground! I'm going to practice my punches!"
After all, this was Marine Headquarters, the Marines' home. Aside from a few civilian departments, the place had a martial atmosphere.
A bunch of orphans whose parents had died in battle had grown up together. It was only natural for them to be competitive and pick fights. There was no need to make a big deal of it.
Once they'd finished checking and registering their information,
they collected their keys and headed outside. Smoker waved goodbye. "My mission's done. Go do whatever you want. Bye."
"Bye." Conrad waved and turned away. After a few steps, he suddenly felt something being slipped into his hand.
He looked back and saw a wisp of smoke drifting away. Smoker had already reached the street corner.
Conrad opened his palm. There were two ten-thousand-Beli bills and four one-thousand-Beli bills, with a few coins of various sizes in between.
He counted the money carefully as they headed for the dorms. "The registration office said we can stay here for three months, right?"
"Right. When the time's up, they'll send us back to our home regions in the Four Blues." Drake kept pace with Conrad. "But they said that since I'm a Devil Fruit User, I can apply to join a special Marine division..."
He paused, watching Conrad's back as he tentatively asked, "Are you planning to join the Marines?"
"Yeah." Conrad nodded.
Drake's tense face broke into a smile, distorting the X-shaped scar on his chin. "Then I'll wait two years. We can apply together."
"Two years?" Conrad raised an eyebrow. "I'm applying at the end of this month. Next month, I'm taking part in the selection for this year's elite training camp under Zephyr."
"But... you don't meet the age and height requirements..." Drake pointed to the Marine Headquarters recruitment poster outside the dormitory entrance. "You have to be sixteen and at least five-foot-seven. Those with outstanding abilities in every area may be as young as fourteen."
Conrad stopped and read the poster, which showed Akainu and Kizaru facing each other.
He'd just had his blood type and bone age tested: XF blood, bone age twelve.
He was currently five-foot-four, two centimeters shorter than Kujaku.
"What's the big deal? How could a petty rule like this stop me?"
Conrad's face suddenly darkened. It was so dark that Drake thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rubbed them several times, but still couldn't see Conrad's face clearly.
"Maybe you could ask Zephyr... the Admiral?" Drake said. Even speaking the word "Admiral" made him feel the crushing pressure. During the days he'd spent aboard the warship, he hadn't been able to look at one for even a second.
Whenever Vice Admiral Tsuru or Zephyr passed by him or spoke, the invisible pressure made it hard for him to breathe.
"No need!" Conrad stopped outside Dormitory 108 and unlocked the door. "If they can make an exception for fourteen, then they can make one for thirteen or twelve! With my intelligence and courage, the requirements won't be a problem!"
"How could the shackles of ordinary people bind a dragon?" Conrad pushed the door open.
"That's right! I, Bling Bling, will definitely become a Marine Admiral!"
Inside, a young man with a purple braid tied in an "8" shape across his forehead was kneeling on the top bunk of a bunk bed, pumping his fist and shouting.
Conrad took a step back and closed the door, then turned to Drake. "Did we get the wrong room?"
Drake took out his own key. It also said 108. He looked at the number on the door and shook his head. "This is the right room."
Conrad turned the key again and pushed the door. Before it had even opened, two hands reached out toward him and Drake.
"Roommates! A pleasure to meet you!" The young man had a long, square face like a hairless goat, though a beard was starting to grow on his chin.
Conrad was a worldly man, and since the other fellow was being polite, he wasn't about to slight him. He reached out and shook his hand.
Drake joined in, and the three of them vigorously pumped their joined hands up and down.
"My name's Bling Bling! I grew up in the East Blue and came here as a Marine to take part in the Zephyr Training Camp selection! I've prepared thoroughly for the exam. If there's anything you two want to discuss or ask about, go ahead!"
"Of course, I'd be happy to learn from you both, too! I hope we can get along during our time together!"
Conrad's enthusiasm flared. "No time like the present. How about we head to the training ground and run a couple of laps?"
Bling Bling's expression immediately turned serious. He glanced at the clock. "Good point. I haven't run my fifty kilometers today. Want to come with me?"
"Shall we go?" Conrad pointed toward the door.
"Let's go!" Bling Bling set off at a jog, dragging the two of them along as they rushed toward the training ground.
The wind blew through the three young men's differently colored hair. Drake ran at the back, grinning from ear to ear.
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