Mosen followed the veteran, observing his disheveled white hair and the faded Marine uniform he wore. The man’s right leg was severed at the knee, and his right arm, muscular and powerful, leaned heavily on a cane. Despite his condition, he walked steadily, showing no signs of his disability.
His exposed skin bore numerous crisscrossing scars, hinting at countless battles he had endured. Witnessing this, Mosen’s usual playful demeanor turned serious, his expression somber.
This was a veteran who deserved respect.
“Don’t think just because you’re looking at me with those eyes that you’ll get any special treatment when I assign you a dorm. I won’t put you near the female soldiers. I don’t want more competition,” the veteran warned.
Any respect Mosen felt instantly evaporated. The veteran’s playful tone suggested he was just another quirky character.
“With all due respect, I’m not looking to be assigned near the female dorms,” Mosen replied quickly, fearing an uncomfortable proximity to the long-armed tribe woman he had seen earlier, whose forearms were thicker than his thighs.
“Good to hear, kid. Just so you know, the name’s Mung-Meng!” the veteran said, eyeing him skeptically.
Mosen almost choked. “Mung-Meng”? This veteran certainly had an interesting name. Choosing not to dwell on it, he continued, “I think I’ll stick to calling you ‘veteran’.”
Mung-Meng’s unusual name was not something Mosen was comfortable using.
“Just call me ‘veteran’ then. I’ll assign you a ‘normal’ place,” Mung-Meng said with a suspicious look.
“Normal is fine by me,” Mosen agreed, eager to escape any further conversation with this peculiar man.
After collecting his supplies and learning his room number, Mosen quickly left Mung-Meng behind, hurrying to his new dorm. The room marked 208 was his new home.
He opened the door to a standard Marine dorm setup: four single bunk beds fixed to the walls, and a pile of miscellaneous items on one of the unused beds. It looked somewhat unkempt, with washing basins, dirty clothes, and an overall lack of tidiness.
Mosen sighed. “So this is my new place… At least there’s a private bathroom.”
Mosen began arranging his belongings when he sensed someone approaching. He turned to see six robust figures outside the dorm, led by a tall man with a muscular build and a Marine uniform torn in several places, exposing blood and sweat stains.
The tall man noticed Mosen first and stopped. “Oh, what do we have here? A new roommate for room 208? What an unexpected surprise!” he exclaimed mockingly.
A shorter, sinister-looking man with a fresh wound on his face spoke up, “Kid, I don’t know who set you up or who you pissed off, but get out of this room now and find another.”
The tall man, who had spoken first, interjected, “Don’t make decisions for room 208, Warrick Roz. This new kid threw my stuff on the floor. Put my things back where they were, or I’ll break your bones. This isn’t a place for a delicate little kid like you.”
“Oh, the son of a Rear Admiral is upset,” someone sneered.
“Such a bad temper, Tess. Show some courtesy… Wait, this kid threw my stuff on the floor too! You’re dead, kid!” another one shouted.
“Looks like we need to teach this kid a lesson,” a fourth person added.
From the moment Mosen saw these six, he knew he had been set up by that crafty old veteran. His Observation Haki told him these were the top recruits, with Tess and Warrick Roz being nearly as strong as Marine Headquarters Lieutenants, and the others only slightly weaker.
It was no wonder they dared to challenge him. They didn’t know his true strength.
This was an opportunity. For over five years, Mosen had dreamed of a chance to show off his strength and put challengers in their place. His eyes grew misty with anticipation. Others who traveled to new worlds often encountered fools waiting to be defeated, while he had only faced seasoned veterans. Now, these recruits were practically begging for a demonstration.
Mosen stepped forward, his face serious. “Look at me. Do you have anything to say?”
The six recruits looked bewildered. What was he expecting them to say?
Mosen sighed. “Seeing this face, don’t you feel an urge to bow down?”
“Arrogant kid, you’re going down!” one of them shouted and lunged at Mosen.
Mosen sighed again, realizing he’d have to resort to his usual method—showing them his violent form of education.
With a single punch, the first attacker was down, foaming at the mouth. Without missing a beat, Mosen turned to the others, ensuring equal treatment for all. Within moments, the room was filled with the sounds of a fierce scuffle, ending with all the recruits except the initial speaker on the floor, groaning in pain.
Tess had managed to block one of Mosen’s attacks with Iron Body but was subsequently punched through the wall, leaving a large hole.
Satisfied, Mosen felt he had imparted a valuable lesson. Just as he had been schooled by Zephyr, his new roommates needed to understand the importance of mutual respect and camaraderie.
What a considerate and harmonious individual he was.
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