Strength Soaring

The busy dinner rush had passed. In the East Blue, the weakest of the seas, many people had the chance to live ordinary lives.

There were only a handful of formidable Pirates here, and unlike the Grand Line's treacherous waters, many ships followed fixed routes.

Besides, Garp returned to his hometown now and then, wiping out any Pirates he happened to encounter along the way. Whenever word spread that he was coming home, Pirates dared not even approach shore. They could only keep wandering the sea.

"Days like this don't come around often."

Rubick sat on the gunwale, watching the departing Pirate ships raise their flags again. Yes, you could see Pirates at the Baratie. It was nothing unusual.

Sanji leaned against the railing and lit a cigarette. "So you still want to be a Pirate? What's wrong with living a quiet, ordinary life?"

Rubick chuckled. "Don't you want to see the All Blue? They say it has seafood from all over the world."

"No. What I really want is to eat the Clear-Clear Fruit. Say, do you know what the Clear-Clear Fruit is?"

"I do."

Anyone could tell Sanji wasn't being honest.

"Sanji, let me ask you something. If I put the Clear-Clear Fruit in front of you one day, would you eat it?"

"Of course. That's my dream. Heh heh..."

Sanji's face suddenly flushed, and his expression turned lecherous.

"Somehow, I doubt you'd use the Clear-Clear Fruit for anything good."

Sanji snapped, embarrassed and angry. "Mind your own business!"

Rubick stood up. "Sanji, is there any equipment I could use to train without using my hands?"

Sanji glanced at the bandage on Rubick's left hand. "You're in that condition, and you still want to push yourself?"

Rubick asked, "How does the East Blue compare to the North Blue?"

"It's much safer."

Rubick went on. "And how does the North Blue compare to the Grand Line?"

Sanji paused, then exhaled a puff of smoke before answering. "Much safer."

Rubick spread his hands. "Exactly. How am I supposed to make it on the Grand Line if I don't train?"

Sanji shrugged. "Fine. Come with me. I'll show you something big. I used to train my legs with it."

Sanji led Rubick to the bow and knocked on the wall. "Patty, bring out Mackerel Head No. 1. I want to get some training in."

A deep male voice came from inside, thick with impatience and disgust. "Yeah, yeah, you bastard. You never maintain or clean it after using it. You scatter cigarette ash everywhere."

Sanji protested, "Don't bad-mouth me in front of an outsider. I'm a chef. I know better than anyone how important cleanliness is."

The man inside fell silent. Then, to Rubick's astonishment, he piloted out a small boat over four meters tall.

The boat—Mackerel Head No. 1, as Sanji called it—was shaped like a fish. Its mouth had originally been the Baratie's fish-shaped bow, and it fit perfectly back into place.

Patty was a chef at the Baratie, and he ranked below Sanji. He looked a little like Popeye: broad and muscular up top, with short, thin legs. His arms were thicker than Rubick's thighs.

He jumped onto the deck and gave Rubick a disgruntled look. "New guy, make sure you clean it when you're done."

"Don't worry. I'll bring it back."

Rubick clearly had no intention of cleaning it. Patty sprang up at once. "Hey, you little—"

Sanji cut him off by jumping straight aboard Mackerel Head No. 1. Rubick chuckled and hopped on after him.

Mackerel Head No. 1 was pedal-powered. Aside from its outlandish appearance, Rubick couldn't see much difference between it and the boats at West Lake Park in his previous life, where sixty-five yuan bought one person an hour on the water.

Seeing Rubick's unimpressed expression, Sanji said, "There are three cannons at the bow. They're more than enough to drive off ordinary Pirates."

Rubick said nothing. His feet were already itching to try.

Sanji didn't explain further. "Pedal as hard as you can. I'll match your pace so we don't spin around out here."

The boat had a paddle wheel on each side. If only one person pedaled, or if the two pedaled at different speeds, the boat would turn or even spin in circles. Sanji was clearly accommodating Rubick.

Rubick began pedaling hard. Barely a minute later, his legs were already aching and tingling. Sanji looked calm and completely at ease. He must have practiced plenty as a child.

Sanji flicked his cigarette butt out of the cockpit. "Mackerel Head No. 1 weighs half a ton. I can kick it five or six meters with one leg. You've got a long way to go."

"I've only been training for six months. I'm doing pretty well, okay?"

Rubick was panting. This was far more exhausting than pedaling a tricycle.

Sanji's expression turned serious. "The sea doesn't show mercy. Keep pedaling. We're not stopping until we've circled the Baratie fifty times."

"Damn it! I'm done training! I'm giving up!"

Rubick shouted about giving up while he kept pedaling. Strings of Chinese phrases Sanji couldn't understand poured from his mouth, leaving Sanji dumbstruck. Well, his true nature was out in the open now.

When Rubick reported for work the next day, both his legs were trembling. He looked utterly spent.

"Rubick, go to the kitchen and prep the ingredients."

Sanji sounded annoyed. "Looking like that, you're making the whole Baratie look bad."

"Okay, okay."

Rubick hobbled into the kitchen, and there he stayed for the next two months.

"Wahaha! That wasn't so hard. Mackerel Head No. 1—conquered!"

Two months later, Rubick could pedal at a blistering pace. Clearly, he had the potential to become strong.

After Rubick had reveled in his success for a while, Sanji insisted that he bring the boat back. Rubick did so reluctantly. He wouldn't need the pedal boat for his next stage of training.

"Rubick, want to spar?"

"Sure."

On the Deck, Rubick answered casually. His strength was growing fast, and he could now control when his body turned into Elemental Form. That meant he could stay solid and fight someone head-on.

As long as Rubick didn't enter Elemental Form, he wouldn't reveal his ability. He also wouldn't have to deliberately forgo his Devil Fruit power like he had when Macron beat him.

Rubick took a boxing stance, fists guarding his head. "Give it everything you've got. You won't hurt me."

Whoosh—smack!

Sanji pushed off and landed a high roundhouse kick against Rubick's right arm. Rubick went flying before he could stop himself and fell into the sea.