Protein Feed Again

The morning after the class placement test ended, the Elite Training Camp finally truly began.

There were none of the various lessons they had imagined.

"Before you learn how to kill, you must first learn how to survive on a complex and ever-changing battlefield!"

"My name is Shuzo. I was once Chief Instructor Zephyr's adjutant, and from now on, I'll be your physical training instructor!" An instructor stood before the ranks, his voice loud and powerful.

"Today, your only task is to squeeze out every last drop of your strength!"

The first training exercise was a thirty-kilogram weighted cross-country run around the island.

Shuzo personally led the entire formation at the front, while several other physical training instructors prowled back and forth along both sides like vicious sheepdogs, searching for "lambs" who had fallen behind.

Without warning, they would suddenly rush up beside a recruit. Their rough hands would clamp down on the recruit's wrist like iron pincers, pressing two fingers tightly against the pulse.

After feeling it for a few seconds, they would let out an earth-shaking roar:

"Your heart rate dropped! Are you taking a stroll here?! Move it!"

Along with the roars came whips that could leave bloody welts across their backs! The sharp cracks of the whip and the pained groans of the recruits became the background music of this lap around the island.

But for Rayne, it was a tremendous test of his acting.

With his [Advanced] physique, this level of weighted running was no different from a walk. His heart rate could barely even rise above one hundred.

As he ran, he had to precisely control the speed of his blood flow and the rhythm of his heartbeat, forcibly putting his body into a high-load state to simulate the illusion of exhaustion.

That allowed him to blend perfectly into the middle-to-lower ranks of the elite class, his face twisted in pain—neither standing out nor falling behind.

Next came the second exercise—deep-sea pressure training.

The recruits were brought to a jagged stretch of reef along the coast near Marineford.

Icy seawater slapped against the slick moss-covered rocks. Simply keeping their footing was extremely difficult.

Their task was to use a specially made rope thicker than an arm to haul up a massive boulder lying several hundred meters beneath the sea.

This was not merely strength training; it was also a brutal test of their muscles.

"One, two! Pull! One, two! Pull!"

Instructor Shuzo's hoarse shouts echoed along the shore like war drums.

The recruits all wore ferocious expressions, veins bulging as every muscle in their bodies tensed to the limit. Each exertion came with a suppressed growl.

Rayne, meanwhile, muddled along among the crowd.

This amount of weight and pulling force was not even enough to count as a warm-up for him. Most of his energy went into imitating the twisted expressions and ragged breathing of the people around him.

Just then, a short cry rang out.

Rosinante, already poor at coordination, lost his footing on the unusually slippery moss. He stumbled, and the rope in his hands instantly slipped free by more than half! Losing his balance, he was dragged by the immense force and slid screaming toward the dark sea trench!

The two recruits standing not far from him not only failed to help, but exchanged malicious looks, ready to enjoy the spectacle of this clumsy recruit.

Rayne, nearby, took in everything.

The name he had heard during roll call yesterday morning echoed in his mind once more, carrying an inescapable sense of familiarity.

His gaze instinctively locked onto that messy head of brilliant blond hair, especially conspicuous beneath the sunlight.

I remember now. Corazon—the clumsy man who was gentle enough to seem like a fool.

An image flashed through Rayne's mind: that man in the snow, saving a child, riddled with bullets, yet still dying with a smile on his face.

Seriously. Back when I read the manga in my previous life, I always thought this big golden retriever of a guy didn't deserve to be treated so cruelly by fate.

The current situation was not fatal, but getting slammed against the reefs would inevitably break a few bones.

In that instant, Rayne also seemed unable to bear the strain any longer and suddenly slipped to the side!

Pretending that the boulder beneath his feet had dragged him off balance as well, he staggered a large step toward Rosinante.

In that seemingly unbalanced step, his military boot "accidentally" came down hard on Rosinante's rope, which had been stretched taut by the enormous pulling force, pinning it firmly against the edge of the slick reef beneath his foot!

Creak—!

A piercing screech rang out as the rope scraped against the reef. The immense friction instantly halted the rope sliding toward the sea for a fraction of a second.

That fraction of a second gave Rosinante, who was about to be dragged into the water, a chance to catch his breath! He felt the pulling force in his hands suddenly lessen, and his survival instinct immediately made him correct his posture. He grabbed the remaining rope tightly and used all his strength to steady himself.

At the same time, Rayne let out an "Ah!" as though stepping on someone else's rope had caused him to lose his balance again. He rolled along the ground, then finally "miserably" grabbed hold of his own rope again.

The entire process was chaotic yet reasonable, looking like nothing more than an accident caused by physical exhaustion.

Instructor Shuzo's furious roar immediately followed. "Useless trash! You can't even hold onto a rope properly! Get up and keep going!"

During the brief rest period, the recruits sprawled on the ground like dead dogs, gasping for breath.

Rosinante, like a large golden retriever covered in mud, limped over to Rayne. His face was filled with the relief of surviving disaster and uncertain gratitude.

"Um... Rayne?" he asked hesitantly. "Just now... was that you...?"

Rayne leaned against a rock, wearing an expression as though he were about to die from exhaustion. Hearing him, he weakly opened one eye and looked at him blankly. "Huh? What?"

"I mean... my rope, just now, it seemed like..."

"Oh, that?" Rayne put on an expression of sudden realization mixed with lingering fear. Gasping between words, he said, "Don't mention it... My footing slipped too, and I nearly got dragged down. I stepped around blindly... Good thing I didn't trip you."

Seeing Rayne's sincere, frightened expression, all of Rosinante's suspicions vanished, replaced by even stronger gratitude.

He was convinced that Rayne had deliberately fallen in order to save him, even risking being scolded by the instructor!

"No... no! You helped me a lot!" Rosinante hurriedly waved his hands, looking at Rayne with absolute sincerity. "Anyway, thank you, Rayne! Really!"

After the day's training ended, Rayne eagerly headed for the cafeteria.

Today was the first meal after the official class assignments, and he still clung to one last shred of hope.

Yesterday's communal slop was probably only temporary. Now that we've been assigned to classes and ranked accordingly, the elite class's food should at least look a little elite, right?

However, when he reached the elite class's dedicated serving window and saw the cafeteria lady ladling that same indescribable gray mush from the pot, his last hope shattered.

Still unwilling to give up, he carried his tray and looked past the crowd toward the separated dining area for the monster class nearby.

The food there really was different—everyone's tray had one more steak than theirs.

Smoker was poking at the steak, which had practically been grilled into charcoal, with his fork in utter disgust. His expression made it seem as if he were poking a rock.

Rayne withdrew his gaze and expressionlessly poured that "protein feed" into his mouth.

Still, although the cafeteria food was terrible, Rayne could clearly feel that this scientific training regimen, combined with the cafeteria's "protein feed," had indeed given his physique a barely perceptible improvement.

At this intensity... if I could increase the training volume tenfold and keep it up without interruption for ten years... perhaps I could reach the threshold of [Top-tier] physique through my own efforts alone.

A twenty-six-year-old monster who reached Marine Headquarters vice admiral level through pure physical prowess... that would count as a true genius anywhere, wouldn't it?

But the moment that thought surfaced, Rayne ruthlessly crushed it.

But... ten years?

Living like livestock for ten years straight, eating this pig slop every day? What kind of joke is that?!

I don't have that kind of patience.

Rayne swallowed the last mouthful of "feed," feeling the warmth and fullness spreading from his stomach.

The path of a genius is too exhausting. I'd better find a way to take my shortcut.