Dao Power Value Test

Marine Headquarters, Second Training Ground, entrance passage.

The sun hung high in the sky, and Marineford, ever methodical, had gathered a vibrant, burgeoning energy here.

Conrad was queuing to enter with Bling Bling. Most of those around them were young marines in their early twenties, each robust and clearly well-trained.

There were also no shortage of more mature-looking individuals, their bodies often marked by scars and their eyes sharp; these were men who had spent years as marines honing their skills, hoping to seize this chance for training and promotion.

At only one meter sixty-seven, Conrad's youthful, rounded features made him stand out conspicuously among the crowd of elite soldiers.

The examiner at the gate wore a brown fisherman's hat and had cheeks like a fat hamster. He looked like a slacker, wearing a loose shirt under his Marine coat and standing barefoot in wooden clogs.

He had been sitting there waving his hand, shouting "Pass, pass, pass," but when it was Conrad's turn, he opened his narrow eyes to look at the boy's substandard height and flipped through the file, asking, "Name?"

"Conrad," Conrad replied, meeting his gaze directly.

The guy in front of him was Tokikake, nicknamed Chaton. Although he had only appeared once in the original story, Conrad recognized him immediately.

Because the man held a prestigious title: Marine Admiral Candidate.

Tokikake found the file alphabetically; it was mostly blank, with only one line in the history: "Orphan rescued from Minion Island, North Blue."

However, the remarks section at the bottom was signed with a large "Special Approval" stamp, marked with the seagull seal of the Recruitment Office.

"Kids these days are always in such a rush, never knowing how to enjoy a leisurely childhood," Tokikake sighed, pulled a cigarette from his pack, and stuck it in his mouth. "Go on in."

Conrad walked inside. The layout of the Second Training Ground was more solemn than the Third, where he usually trained.

There were no recreational areas for the young or old; the square was vast and empty, a perimeter-enclosed parade ground where the Marine flag could be seen fluttering in the wind atop the oath-taking platform.

He followed the crowd to the waiting area and formed into a square formation. There were no seats, so they stood at attention under the scorching sun, waiting for the start.

Bling Bling stood beside him, his nervousness gone as if he had merged into the atmosphere and become a part of the whole; the discipline of a soldier flowed from his very bones.

However, this was not a mandatory stance, as they were merely waiting for the selection to begin, so there were mavericks sitting cross-legged or even lying on the ground.

The one lying down was a green-haired youth wearing a long-brimmed cap. His Marine uniform jacket was open, revealing a lean, muscular chest and abdomen with a very low body fat percentage.

"Prince Grus," Bling Bling said with a serious expression. "The most famous new recruit of this batch. He's from the West Blue and is very strong. It's said his Doriki is approaching three hundred."

The youth pulled a bag of potato chips from his hat, tore it open, and shoved a handful into his mouth, chewing as he said:

"Standing there without moving like a bunch of idiots. Only those without ability need to follow the rules. Talents like me don't need to. Haha."

The sudden remark was particularly jarring in the quiet atmosphere.

It made the marines standing at the ready feel awkward, their brows furrowing and faces darkening, but the guy's strength was undeniably formidable, leaving them with no room to argue.

Conrad glanced over, his brows instantly knitting together. He was standing there properly, yet he had been dragged into this for no reason; how could he endure it?

"Are you a dog?"

His voice was not loud, but calm, carrying a clear sense of inquisitive confusion.

Prince Grus, who had been lying flat and chewing chips, suddenly stopped. He couldn't help but gasp, choking on a chip and coughing violently.

He jumped up, flailing his arms as he pounded his chest, and after seven or eight seconds of retching, he looked toward the formation and shouted angrily, "Who was that! Who cursed me!"

"Are you a dog?" Conrad repeated, raising his voice. Although he didn't wave his hand while standing at attention, he made sure the other party locked onto the target.

"I am not a dog!" Prince Grus stormed up to the front of the formation. His one-meter-ninety frame and muscular build were quite imposing.

But Conrad had not flinched when facing the fully armed and far more formidable Vergo; why would he fear a brat like this?

"If you aren't a dog, why do you bark at people? If you aren't a dog, why are you lying on the ground sunbathing in the middle of the day? Don't you see all these people with legs standing here?"

Conrad looked at the surrounding marines. "We're all human, aren't we?"

"Yes! Haha~" Bling Bling and the other marines responded, laughing heartily.

Prince Grus wanted to retort, but his brain seemed to have stalled; his wit and knowledge were insufficient to provide a comeback, so he could only clench his fists and say, "I like lying down! If you're so capable, you lie down then!"

Conrad frowned, confused. He stepped out of the formation, walked to the open space, sat down, and lay flat with ease, turning his head to look at the Prince like he was an idiot. "Is that hard?"

The face between Prince Grus's green wavy hair turned red almost instantly.

Conrad stood up calmly and returned to his team, saying, "Being reckless and unruly is easy; is it really something to brag about? You're a Marine, not a pirate. Are you trying to see who can be the worst?"

The marines fell silent. After all, this was under the sun, this was Marine Headquarters, Marineford. The back of their officer coats bore the word "Justice," and their duty was to protect the peace of the world.

When Conrad stood among the troops, he was not special because of his youthful stature or appearance; he was outstanding because he had blended into the crowd and then distinguished himself with his upright bearing.

The Prince's eyes were filled with rage. He was competitive and refused to lose. Even if he didn't know how to argue back, he had only one thought in his heart: he had to regain his face!

He flexed his arm, bulging his bicep. "What's the use of saying so much! What matters today is strength! In the Marines, strength is the only thing that counts!"

Conrad did not refute him, as he believed the statement was correct. He nodded and said, "See you on the field."

Prince Grus stared at Conrad, his face turning even redder. He was nearly thirty centimeters taller than this kid; even if he won face-to-face, no one would praise him.

He turned and walked to the gap between the two marine formations, stood in his own line, tilted his head back, and shouted, "I will take first place!"

Dong~

A loud bell rang out, and seagulls flew over the open training ground.

A spinning brown figure flipped through the air and landed on the oath-taking platform.

Tokikake flicked his cape and announced, "The Doriki test begins!"

Figures began to file into the circular spectator stands one after another, though there were few high-ranking officers; after all, this was only the first round of testing, and most who came were merely looking to recruit subordinates who had been eliminated.

For the average marine, however, this was an opportunity to shine, as being selected meant adding the word "Headquarters" to their title, which was equivalent to advanced training.

Once they were eventually reassigned to a branch in the Four Blues, their rank would be treated as three levels higher, leading to rapid promotions.

The north gate of the training grounds rose, and a pair of massive, blood-red eyes emerged from the darkness, accompanied by the thunderous, heavy sound of footsteps as a colossal silhouette gradually took shape.

Skin of iron-gray mottled with moss was revealed bit by bit under the sunlight, leading up to the fierce head of a giant green turtle.

"Strike the Hand-Match Turtle with your strongest attack, and it will display your Doriki value."

Tokikake soared into the air and landed a casual kick right in the center of the creature's thick, grid-patterned shell as it slowly crawled out.

The Hand-Match Turtle's glowing red eyes shot out a beam of light, projecting a number onto the backdrop of the oath-taking platform: 3060.