The whisper slipped into Lorne's ears, only for him to scatter it into the sea breeze with a punch.
A ring of white surf erupted across the sea. The pressure from his punch skimmed dozens of meters over the water, and several unlucky fish floated up belly-first.
Lorne drew back his fist, his beast ears twitching slightly. Listening to the schools of fish fleeing in panic beneath the water, he grinned and cursed.
"What the hell are you running for? I'm not going to eat you."
He raised his right arm. Armament Haki crept from his forearm to his fist, but the moment the black coating solidified, he deliberately dispersed it.
"Too spread out."
Lorne looked down at his hand, his brows knitting.
"Instructor Zephyr was right. I shouldn't spread my Armament Haki out and waste it. I need to compress it inward."
He took a deep breath, his muscles contracting under the control of Life Return as his entire right arm tightened inch by inch.
The next moment, he compressed all his strength into his fist.
"Haymaker."
His fist smashed into the air.
Boom!!
A fan-shaped shock wave exploded in front of the shore, forcibly depressing the sea's surface as white waves churned out to either side.
Lorne stood where he was, several cracks splitting the reef beneath his feet.
"The power's enough."
He shook his numb arm, but his brows remained furrowed.
"But my Haki hasn't kept up with my Grit."
"If I compress my Armament Haki into the point where my Grit bursts out, then lock onto my opponent's movements with Observation Haki..."
At that, his beast ears suddenly pricked up.
Familiar footsteps came from the direction of the distant headquarters building.
"Instructor Zephyr went to see Sengoku?"
Lorne tilted his head and listened for a moment.
"And the old man... huh? Is he eating something?"
His face twitched.
"That old bastard. He's probably stolen Senbei again."
Marine Headquarters' main building, the Fleet Admiral's Office.
Zephyr pushed the door open and entered.
The heavy iron door slowly closed behind him, shutting out the curious gazes of the Marines in the corridor.
"Crunch... crunch..."
The crisp chewing sounded especially grating in the quiet Fleet Admiral's Office.
Zephyr spotted the source at once.
The Marine hero, Monkey D. Garp, was sprawled on the guest sofa with his legs crossed and a paper bag in his hands, constantly pulling Senbei out and stuffing them into his mouth, sending crumbs flying everywhere.
Zephyr recognized the paper bag at a glance. It was the special packaging from his favorite shop.
"Sengoku, the Senbei here really do taste better," Garp mumbled without looking up. "Much tastier than my own."
Behind the desk, the veins on Fleet Admiral Sengoku's forehead were throbbing wildly, and the fountain pen in his hand was on the verge of snapping.
"Garp! Those are the Senbei Zephyr just brought back! Put them down!"
"What's the big deal? Sharing a few with me won't hurt." Garp paid him no mind, stuffing another cracker into his mouth and crunching loudly.
Watching this, Zephyr silently sighed.
He had long since grown accustomed to his old friend's shameless behavior.
"Forget it, Sengoku." Zephyr walked straight to the desk, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "Let him eat. I have something important to discuss with you."
"Hmph!" Sengoku glared at Garp. Knowing that saying anything more would be useless, he could only suppress his anger and turn to Zephyr. "What brought you here in person?"
Zephyr's expression returned to its usual seriousness.
"It's about Lorne."
"Lorne?" Sengoku paused, then recalled the beast-eared boy Garp had forced into the Elite Camp. "What about him? Did he cause trouble in the Elite Camp?"
With that brat's arrogant temperament, trouble was practically inevitable.
"No, he hasn't caused any trouble." Zephyr shook his head, dropping a bombshell in a calm voice. "He's almost ready to graduate."
The air in the office instantly froze.
"Crunch."
Garp stopped chewing and looked up with interest.
Sengoku, meanwhile, thought he had misheard. He dug at his ear and stared at Zephyr in disbelief.
"What did you say? Graduate? Zephyr, you're joking, right? He's only been in the Elite Camp for a little over a month, even counting every day!"
Sengoku's voice involuntarily rose an octave.
What sort of place was Marine Headquarters' Elite Camp?
It gathered geniuses from all over the world, each an elite chosen from a hundred candidates.
Yet even these geniuses usually needed at least two to three years of grueling training to graduate from the Elite Camp.
Graduate in just over a month?
That was utterly absurd!
"I'm not joking." Zephyr's expression remained serious. "I sparred with him just now. He's already fully mastered and integrated the Six Powers, his Armament Haki can consistently cover both arms, and he even taught himself Life Return."
He paused, then added something that made Sengoku's heart skip a beat.
"With his current combat strength, even without counting all those miscellaneous trump cards, he's at least on par with a headquarters commander."
"A... a commander?!"
Sengoku was utterly speechless.
In just over a month, he had gone from a novice who knew nothing but brute force to a fighter on par with a headquarters commander?
What kind of monstrous growth rate was that?!
Beside them, Garp burst into a "Bwahaha!" of laughter, spraying Senbei crumbs everywhere.
"I told you! My judgment's never wrong! That brat's a monster through and through! Bwahahahaha!"
Sengoku could not be bothered with the gloating Garp. He stared fixedly at Zephyr, trying to find even a hint of a joke on his old friend's face.
But he failed.
Zephyr's lone eye held nothing but seriousness.
Sengoku fell silent.
Rubbing his throbbing temples, he paced back and forth across the office.
He trusted Zephyr's judgment.
As the Marines' chief instructor, Zephyr had never been wrong in his assessment of someone's strength.
The problem was that this defied all reason.
"I trust your judgment, Zephyr." Sengoku finally stopped pacing and spoke gravely. "But we can't just let him graduate like this."
"Why not?" Zephyr frowned. "The Elite Camp's rules state that anyone whose strength meets the standard can take the graduation assessment."
"Rules are rigid, but people aren't!" Sengoku's tone grew firmer. "He's only been here a little over a month! What will the other soldiers who've slogged away in the Elite Camp for two or three years think? They'll only think we're favoring Garp's grandson, that he got in through the back door!"
"This will deal a serious blow to the other soldiers' morale and damage the Marines' credibility!"
Zephyr fell silent.
What Sengoku said was indeed true.
The Marines were a strictly hierarchical organization, and procedures and rules were crucial.
Lorne's rate of advancement had already broken every convention.
"Then what do you suggest?" Zephyr asked.
Before you continue