Sea Circle Calendar Year 1506, October 1st! East Blue, Navy Branch 77 training ground, 5 AM!
A thin and indistinct figure wielding a wooden sword under the starlight continually slashed at the air in a corner of the training ground.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
The blade cut through the air, producing a sharp whistle!
“981, 982, 983…”
Mosen counted silently to himself as he practiced his sword techniques.
When he reached 1000, Mosen’s technique changed from slashing to thrusting.
Screech!
The wind sounded even more piercing, echoing far into the night, like the screams of a ghost, eerie and terrifying!
The sound of the wooden blade cutting through the air, combined with Mosen’s low grunts, added a touch of vitality to the silent training ground.
Ahem, calling it a blade might be an exaggeration since he was wielding a blunt wooden sword.
After completing a thousand repetitions of each basic movement—slash, cut, chop, stab, flick, and sweep—Mosen combined all the movements into a continuous sequence.
These were still just basic movements, barely forming a coherent sword style. Being a choresman, although he could join training, the Navy branch didn’t have a formal sword technique.
For the most basic level of the navy, a gun was far more practical than sword techniques.
After all, this was the weakest East Blue, where 99% of pirates could be taken down with a single shot. Moreover, many influential pirate crews in the New World had snipers as part of their arsenal.
Given Mosen’s pre-transmigration fascination with guns, he didn’t neglect his firearm training.
Survival skills were never too much, right?
“Training sure is tough, but fortunately, people in this world have potential and physical strength far beyond Earthlings.” After completing all the primary sword forms, Mosen lay on the ground. “This body seems to have good talent; otherwise, a shut-in like me wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”
Over the past six months, Mosen experienced people’s abnormal physicality firsthand.
Since joining the Navy base, apart from daily chores such as laundry, mopping, and kitchen duties, he has spent all his spare time training himself.
Even sleep was limited to five hours a day.
This level of training would have ruined even an Iron Man on Earth, let alone a boy.
But not him.
Every time he was exhausted, a ten-minute rest would significantly restore his strength.
Whenever Mosen thought he had reached his physical limit, his body would tell him otherwise: No, you haven’t!
It was a harsh reality check!
So, although skill training was necessary, Mosen focused more on physical exercise.
He didn’t understand the principles of the Six Powers or Haki. Still, he knew that the body was the foundation of everything, including Devil Fruits, which depended on physical strength.
In the past six months, his height had increased by ten centimeters and his weight by 20 kilograms, proving how practical his physical training was.
Under his wide blue navy pants, he wore homemade weights, each weighing 5 kilograms. He never took them off except for bathing.
Over these six months, he challenged nearly everyone in the base. From initially being on par with an ordinary soldier to defeating non-commissioned officers, he is now able to hold his own against lieutenants.
His marksmanship was among the top five in the branch, frighteningly accurate. At 200 meters, he could hit a yolk without touching the egg white. With a gun in hand, he even wanted to challenge Colonel Franca.
Mosen’s efforts earned the respect of all the soldiers in the base, even inspiring the veterans to work harder.
Anyone striving towards their dreams deserves respect, especially those who pursue them desperately!
“I don’t want to be defeated by a 12-year-old kid. That would be the greatest disgrace of my military career!” A certain lieutenant once said drunkenly during a break.
Mosen clapped his hands and set the wooden sword aside. This was his 60th sword, averaging one every three days. Each time he went to get a new wooden sword from the quartermaster, he was met with glares and sarcastic comments, becoming the most unwelcome person to the quartermaster.
“Such a stingy guy, it’s just a wooden sword. No need to treat me like a thief!”
Complaining, Mosen picked up a 50-pound stone he used for training and started doing weighted frog jumps.
He had crafted the stone himself, perfect for carrying on his back. It was part of his unique training technique, discovered by chance after a grueling sword practice.
The results were surprisingly good, with his strength and physical condition improving slowly. The satisfaction was indescribable, even better than his indulgences in his past life as a shut-in.
And there was no worry of losing control of his swordsmanship due to physical training.
“I’m quite the genius!”
“95, 96, 97… 130, 131…”
His voice faded away, disappearing into the misty night.
…
Toot!! Toot!!
The emergency alarm bell rang through the 77th base, followed by the voice of Colonel Franca.
“All personnel assemble, except for the on-duty soldiers, everyone to the training ground for an emergency mission!!”
Navy dormitory.
Mosen, who was cleaning, threw his broom aside upon hearing the broadcast.
He quickly ran to his quarters, grabbed his long sword and rifle, and joined the other soldiers running to the training ground.
This was the third time he had heard the call for an all-hands assembly in two years at the base. He couldn’t afford to miss this one after being excluded the previous two times.
Ten minutes later, except for the on-duty soldiers, everyone had assembled.
Colonel Franca, wearing his Justice cloak, stood before the assembled troops.
“Report, Colonel. All combat units have assembled, 280 expected, 281 present.” Deputy Sindrian stuttered slightly as he finished his report.
A few veins popped on Franca’s forehead as he saw the extra figure at the end of the formation. He yelled, “Baka! Baka! Mosen, this mission doesn’t need choresmen, especially not an apprentice choresman!”
At 1.7 meters tall, Mosen was a tiny figure. He could only see the backs of heads in front of him.
“Colonel, this is the 29th time you’ve said we don’t need choresmen, but every time you return from battle, I’m the one who cleans the warship.”
“………..”
Awkward silence!
“Colonel, I’m already 14, and as the one who taught me swordsmanship, you know my strength best.”
“No strong person is trained without real combat. Without combat experience, I’ll never become a strong person…”
“Sindrian, have Mosen step forward,” Franca interrupted Mosen. “No guns. Defeat Sindrian, and you’ll have the qualifications to join the combat mission. Don’t say I never gave you a chance.”
“Isn’t it bullying to send me?” Deputy Sindrian, the second strongest in the base after Franca, said, half-joking.
“Really, Colonel? You mean it!”
“Hey, kid, stop this nonsense. Do you know who I am? I’m Sindrian, known as the ‘Pirate Butcher.'” The deputy was annoyed, feeling underestimated by the eager Mosen.
“Lieutenant, I’m ready!” Mosen ignored Sindrian’s words, holding his sword firmly. He couldn’t let this rare opportunity slip away.
He hadn’t fought anyone since his sparring match with Colonel Franca six months ago. Sindrian would be in for a surprise if he underestimated him.
“Kid, arrogance has a price. I won’t go easy on you!”
The deputy was visibly angry, feeling disrespected by a newcomer, which was unbearable.
Sindrian’s sword was not a standard Navy issue. He confiscated a sharp blade from a pirate, no less sharp than the fifty great swords. Many pirates had met their end by this blade.
“The sword is named ‘Wind Bamboo,’ as sharp as the fifty great swords. Be careful, kid! This isn’t a game; I won’t hold back!” Sindrian’s aura became dangerous as he warned Mosen.
Mosen’s eyes lit up. It might be hard to believe, but this was his first time using a real weapon against someone. Remembering how his wooden swords broke in a few moves, he felt like crying!
Excited for his first real fight, Mosen readied himself.
“Apprentice choresman Mosen, please guide me!”
Before the word “guide” was out of his mouth, Mosen rushed forward, covering the three-meter distance in a flash, swinging his sword diagonally at Sindrian’s right arm.
Step Slash!!!
Sindrian was startled by the speed and angle, reacting a half-beat slow.
Ding!
The harsh sound of metal clashing echoed as the hastily defending Sindrian was pushed back seven or eight steps, nearly losing his balance.
Mosen stood with his sword, surprised by his own rapidly growing strength. No three hundred-round duel, no exchanging blows back and forth. The gap in their abilities was clear.
Every Navy soldier’s eyes bulged, mouths agape.
“Wow, what an incredible kid.”
“Who would have thought that weak kid from two years ago would become so powerful? Colonel really picked a monster!”
“Impressive… Defeated Deputy Sindrian in one blow.”
“I wouldn’t be able to block that strike!”
“No kidding, only the Colonel could probably block that.
.”
The soldiers’ comments made Sindrian’s already red face darker. Looking at his torn shirt, he felt a lingering fear! He might have been done if Mosen had pushed deeper with that stab.
She failed to show off, only to be humiliated!
Colonel Franca’s eyes widened, mirroring the soldiers’ shock. He was astonished by Mosen’s progress.
“Six months ago, we could spar evenly with body techniques. Now…I’ve been humbled!”
He and Sindrian often sparred, but he couldn’t defeat Sindrian in one strike.
Feigning a look of foresight, as if the shock wasn’t his, Franca said, “Not bad, kid. From now on, you’re an official soldier of Navy Branch 77.”
“Now, rejoin the ranks!”
“Yes, Colonel.”
Move out!!!
Become a Patron read up to 40 chapter ahead public release ^_^
Please join Discord Server so we can talk ^_^
