Reporting to the Office

The Den Den Mushi's roar echoed through the mess hall, lingering for a long time.

Its face, mimicking Sengoku's furious expression, faced Lorne.

Lorne's hand, which had just picked up a Sea King rib, paused in midair.

He looked up at the Den Den Mushi Zephyr was holding, then at the table covered in food.

"Got it."

Lorne's response was calm.

Then he lowered his head and opened his mouth to bite into the rib, which was bigger than his face.

Crunch!

The sound of bone and flesh breaking was exceptionally crisp.

Sengoku had clearly heard it through the Den Den Mushi. He fell silent for a second, then erupted into an even louder roar.

"You're still eating?!"

"I told you to get over here right now!"

"I'm the Fleet Admiral!!"

Lorne chewed as he answered indistinctly, "I'll go when I'm done eating."

"You-"

Sengoku was so furious that his voice changed pitch.

Across the table, Garp clutched his stomach and laughed, spraying bits of meat everywhere.

"Wahahahaha! Don't be so impatient, Sengoku! My grandson just finished a fight. How could he not eat more?"

"Garp! Shut your mouth!" The voice from the Den Den Mushi nearly tore through the air. "And he's not your grandson!"

"How is he not? If I say he is, he is!" Garp slapped the table, making the plates clatter. "Lorne, ignore him. Keep eating! If you don't eat your fill, how will you have the strength to tear down his office door?"

Zephyr silently hung up the Den Den Mushi, letting its angry face turn blank again.

He looked at the "grandfather and grandson" fooling around before him, then at the recruits crowding the doorway with vacant expressions, and felt his own stomach beginning to ache.

"Teacher, want some too?" Lorne tore off a large chunk of meat and offered it to Zephyr.

Zephyr waved it away expressionlessly.

"I'm afraid Sengoku will dock my pay."

He looked at Lorne and added, "Are you really all right?"

Lorne patted his stomach, which had become completely flat again, the outlines of his eight-pack clearly visible.

"Never better."

All the wounds on his body had healed, leaving only dried blood as evidence of how brutal the recent battle had been.

The recruits whispered among themselves at the door.

"He... he's emptied another ten huge plates..."

"That's Sea King meat! One plate would feed our whole squad for a meal!"

"How is his body even built? Where does everything he eats go?"

"I suspect his stomach connects to another dimension."

One recruit rubbed his eyes hard, his voice trembling. "Look. After eating, his presence seems to have gotten a little stronger again."

Everyone looked closely. Each of Lorne's breaths was long and powerful, and faint heat rose from his body, as though he were a furnace fresh from the forge.

That pure, overbearing vitality weighed on them until they could barely breathe.

"Enough."

Zephyr finally spoke, instantly silencing the entire mess hall.

He swept his gaze over the recruits at the door.

"Today's farce ends here. The assessment is over."

"You've all seen Lorne's strength. I don't want to hear any more idiotic talk about 'connections.'"

"Now, everyone, dismissed. Assemble at the training grounds!"

"Today's training load is doubled!"

The recruits looked both reprieved and utterly bereaved as they scattered in an instant, not daring to linger.

Zephyr looked at the now-empty mess hall doorway before finally resting his gaze on Lorne.

"When you're finished eating, go to the Fleet Admiral's Office."

"Don't keep Sengoku waiting too long."

Lorne shrugged and stuffed the last piece of meat into his mouth.

"Got it."

He stood up, his joints giving off a series of explosive cracks.

"Old man, let's go."

He called out to Garp.

Garp drained his last mouthful of liquor and wiped his mouth.

"Let's go! Let's have a look at Sengoku's constipated face! Wahahahaha!"

With their arms slung around each other's shoulders, the two swaggered out of the mess hall, ignoring the head chef's face, which looked on the verge of tears, and the long bill behind them.

Afterward, Garp tossed Lorne back into the Elite Camp dormitory.

The night passed without incident.

Early the next morning, as the first rays of sunlight lit up Marineford's harbor, a headquarters commander personally arrived at the dormitory door.

"Sir Lorne, the Fleet Admiral requests your presence."

The commander's manner was deeply respectful, his eyes filled with awe.

Word of yesterday's assessment had already spread throughout Marine Headquarters.

A raw recruit had gone head-to-head with the hero of the Marines and even driven Vice Admiral Garp back several steps in the end.

Such a fantastical feat had turned Lorne's name into a legend overnight.

Lorne walked out of the dormitory yawning, his whole body brimming with inexhaustible energy.

Battlefield Valor's passive effect had allowed his physical capabilities to improve slightly again after the intense battle and enormous amount of food.

He followed the commander across the broad fortress plaza.

Along the way, whenever the Marines saw him, they instinctively stopped and saluted him with their eyes, regardless of rank.

There was no longer any contempt or doubt in those eyes, only shock and curiosity.

"Is that Lorne? He doesn't look particularly big."

"Would you dare say that to his face? He even blocked Vice Admiral Garp's fist yesterday!"

"I heard he ate an entire warship's food reserves in one meal, and then all his wounds healed."

"A monster... he's an absolute monster."

Lorne turned a deaf ear to the chatter, the beast ears on his head twitching only occasionally as they picked up interesting bits of information.

At last, they arrived at the highest seat of authority in Marine Headquarters-the Fleet Admiral's Office.

The office door was already broken.

Lorne walked in and immediately saw Sengoku sitting behind his desk, veins bulging on his forehead.

On the sofa opposite Sengoku, Garp lay sprawled without a shred of decorum, stuffing rice crackers into his mouth with loud crunches.

Chief of Staff Tsuru sat upright on the other side, calmly drinking tea as though she were used to all this chaos.

"Lorne, you're here."

Sengoku set down the documents in his hands, looked up, and regarded him with a complicated gaze.

This boy, who had joined the Elite Camp just over a month ago, had caused him more trouble than all the pirates captured over the past year combined.

And yet his talent was too dazzling to ignore.

Sengoku interlaced his fingers and rested them on the desk, his expression solemn.

"Lorne, you've passed the special-grade graduation assessment, and everyone has witnessed your strength. Under the regulations, you qualify for a corresponding rank and position."

He paused, then presented the first option.