Back when Conrad was still too young for elementary school, he hadn't learned to read yet, so when he went to the bookstore, all he could look at were the comics.
Though he couldn't understand the words and had no idea what was going on, he'd practiced martial arts for years by copying the moves in the comics.
That had laid a solid foundation for his later martial arts accomplishments.
Such was the way of peerless geniuses.
But sadly, heaven envied the gifted. The punishment he'd suffered at the orphanage had kept him from learning the mental cultivation method for a long time, and he'd practiced external techniques until he was on the verge of qi deviation.
By the time he finally learned the method, he'd already missed the best period for nourishing his constitution. It wasn't until the year before he crossed over that he'd barely managed to accumulate enough true qi to circulate through his body.
At that moment, Conrad closed his eyes and looked inward. His mind followed the movement of his energy as he sensed the Haki within him.
It split into two currents. One followed the Heart-Freezing Art and settled in his brain, while the other followed the Imperial Classic of World Governance and coursed around his heart.
Once the Haki began to circulate, Conrad opened his eyes, stepped into the Wind God Leg stance, and launched into the Whale-Slaying Tyrant Fist.
His martial arts weren't the sort that relied solely on sitting meditation. His energy flowed with his movements, cultivating both inner and outer strength. Everything was aimed at building power and speed, so he could unleash the hardest, sharpest, most powerful attacks!
Black-red Haki boiled across his skin, making the boy's body look like that of a fire demon.
Before long, sweat poured off him, and his mouth was parched.
Conrad's whole body felt desiccated. He picked up a bottle of milk by the bed and gulped it down in one go. Then he gathered his strength and kept going.
Once his Haki was spent, Conrad moved on to the most basic exercises: push-ups, squats, and pull-ups. He finished by holding a horse stance against the wall to build his endurance.
He wiped the sweat stinging his eyes, watched droplets run from his forehead down his face and fall to the floor, then tugged at his soaked shirt.
"I don't have anything else to change into. I should buy a couple of tank tops to wear when I work out."
Knock, knock~
Someone knocked on the door.
"It's just me. The door's open, come in." Conrad stood up, unfolded the dining table, and took out a plate and the bamboo chopsticks he'd carved himself.
Baby-5, dressed in a maid outfit, gently pushed the door open. She carried a huge bucket of rice in her left hand and two fragrant roast chickens and a full box of vegetables in her right. "Dinner's ready!"
"Why are you wearing that again?" Conrad took off his sweat-soaked shirt, revealing his evenly built, flushed upper body.
"I've always dressed like this." Baby-5 propped her elbows on the table and rested her face in her hands. "I think it looks pretty. Don't you?"
Conrad picked up a bowl and some food. "It does look nice, but it's what servants wear."
"As long as it looks good." Baby-5 grinned, picked up Conrad's sweaty shirt, tossed it into a washbasin, and carried it over to the faucet to fill it with water. "Apart from shooting, these are the only things I know how to do. I like doing them for you."
As the sound of washing filled the room, Conrad tucked into his meal. "Is Kujaku not coming today?"
Kujaku was obviously paying for all the food and drink. But he already owed her, so he didn't mind owing a little more. Once he made something of himself, he'd repay her double. There was no need to worry about it.
"She did come." Baby-5 answered as she washed. "She ran into an old man on the way through the gate. He kept her there chatting, so she told me to come in first."
Conrad gave a sound of acknowledgment and kept eating. But as he ate, his hand suddenly stopped. A massive presence had descended over him, locking onto him like a shadow.
Kujaku appeared at the doorway first. Right behind her was an old man in a solemn military uniform, his chest covered in medals.
"Conrad, let me introduce you. This is Grandpa Sengoku, a friend of my grandmother's. Grandpa Sengoku said he had something to discuss with you too, so I brought him along."
Sengoku wore round black glasses. The beard on his chin was tied into a long braid that hung straight down to his belly.
He narrowed his eyes and smiled kindly. "Ha ha, hello, young man."
Conrad put down his bowl and rested both hands on his knees, his expression solemn. "You finally came. I've been waiting for you."
Sengoku looked surprised. "You knew I was coming to see you?"
He was Rosinante's adoptive father, and he'd come this time to ask the boy a few questions. But their relationship was a secret, known to very few in the Marines. Otherwise, Rosinante could never have gone undercover successfully.
"None of that matters. What matters is that I was waiting for you." Conrad's expression was more serious than ever. He seemed as steady as a mountain as he sat on the lower bunk and studied Sengoku.
Sengoku furrowed his brows. He was a Marine Admiral, and apart from Fleet Admiral Kong, who rarely got involved in affairs, he was the most powerful man in the Marines.
If not for Rosinante's firm refusal to reveal the Op-Op Fruit's whereabouts, he wouldn't have come to ask Conrad about the situation.
He opened his mouth, intending to ask Conrad to come to his office for a private conversation.
But Conrad raised a hand. "Kujaku, Baby-5, step outside for a moment. I have something important to discuss with Fleet Admiral Sengoku."
"Okay!" Baby-5 picked up the washbasin and ran out. "Excuse me, Grandpa. Let me through."
The atmosphere was getting stranger by the minute, and Sengoku was completely at a loss. Though, with his explosive hairstyle, his head wasn't exactly easy to get a hold of in the first place.
Once the door closed, Conrad pointed to the opposite lower bunk. "Please, sit."
"I'm not Fleet Admiral. I'm just an Admiral." Sengoku lifted his cape and sat down, his massive uniformed body hunched over.
"You will be eventually. It won't be long." Conrad said nonchalantly. "What did you come to see me about? You can go first."
Sengoku's expression turned strange. It felt as if he were a guest in the boy's territory. He looked at the bare-chested child, whose arms together weren't even as thick as one of his.
"On Minion Island, you saw the child Rosinante gave the Op-Op Fruit to, didn't you?"
"I did." Conrad nodded.
"I need to know where he went." The higher-ups in the World Government had been urging Sengoku to deliver the Op-Op Fruit. The deal was worth five billion Beli.
For comparison, even Whitebeard, the World's Strongest Man, had a bounty of only five billion, four hundred and sixty million. That showed just how much the higher-ups valued it.
"I don't know." Conrad shook his head.
Sengoku's expression turned stern. He wrinkled his nose and lifted his glasses. "Come with me, young man. I'll hypnotize you to help you remember. Don't worry, it won't hurt you."
"Hold on. We can discuss that later." Conrad remained composed, his heart settled by an experience as still as an ancient well.
"Right now, I have three things to tell you."
"Hm?" Sengoku couldn't understand why a child he'd never met before wanted to tell him three things.
Conrad didn't wait for a reply before continuing. "First, I'm not old enough to enlist in the Marines. You'll make an exception for me."
Sengoku paused, but it wasn't a difficult matter. He nodded. "All right."
"Second, the Marines have a serious discipline problem. I want you to help me reform them."
"Kid, some things aren't as simple as you think." Sengoku shook his head, thinking the child was naive and foolish. There was no point in saying any more.
At that moment, a light flashed in Conrad's eyes, and his presence suddenly expanded in a tremendously powerful direction.
"Third, and most important of all: get down on your knees first. I want you to take me as your master."
Sengoku sprang to his feet, furious. Even his patience had its limits.
"The Human-Human Fruit, Model: Buddha, is wasted in your hands! You're using less than a tenth of its power!"
Conrad sat like a mountain, his left palm raised to the heavens and his right hand pointing at the earth. His voice rang out with the deep resonance of a great bell, mysterious and profound.
"This master of yours has an invincible palm technique to teach you! Once you learn it, even if all Four Emperors come at once, you'll be able to crush them without mercy!"
Sengoku saw a faint golden light emerge from Conrad's palm. The Haki behind his head rippled into a halo, making him look just like Sengoku in his mythical form.
He stared, mouth agape. "A palm technique?"
"Buddha's Palm, First Form: Buddha's Light Emerges!"
Conrad's face took on a merciful expression. His left palm suddenly burst with golden light, spinning into a blur as it struck straight at Sengoku's crown.
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