“Heh, you lost,” Foxy announced, folding his arms with a smug grin. The way he had nearly instantaneously defeated Gasparde left everyone around them stunned, including the Rear Admiral and the five lieutenants who were watching in surprise.
“Is this your ability?” Gasparde asked, standing up and rubbing his chest, eyes filled with caution. He couldn’t comprehend how Foxy’s power had rendered him so slow, almost snail-like. “What just happened in those few seconds? Did I slow down, or did you speed up?”
“Enjoy those stinky socks,” Foxy teased, shrugging and blinking playfully, much to Gasparde’s irritation.
“Hmph, I was careless. I haven’t lost yet,” Gasparde declared, transforming his hands into sharp spikes once more, his eyes gleaming dangerously. “The Rear Admiral said there are only two outcomes: either you surrender or you can’t stand up. I haven’t surrendered yet and can still fight.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” Foxy sighed, trying to buy more time. “Just now, you couldn’t even react. I could have killed you easily.”
“Do you think I’ll let you hit me so easily again?”
“Look, as a friend, I’m giving you a chance. Besides, I already know the weaknesses of your ability. Are you sure you want to continue fighting?” Foxy said, his expression sincere, though internally, he was counting down the cooldown time of his ability. During the past month, he had managed to reduce the cooldown from eight minutes to six. If he could stall for just another minute, he’d be unbeatable again.
Gasparde, unaware he was being tricked, continued the conversation, falling right into Foxy’s ploy.
“How do you know my ability’s weakness?”
“It’s common sense.”
“Impossible. My ability is the strongest.”
“It could be if developed properly,” Foxy agreed.
“This time, you’re just lucky,” Gasparde muttered.
“Enough talk. Didn’t you say you weren’t convinced? Let’s continue,” Foxy said, motioning Gasparde to attack.
After a moment of hesitation, Gasparde gritted his teeth. “This time, you won’t be so lucky, Foxy.”
Rushing forward again, Gasparde was much more cautious, constantly watching Foxy’s hands. As Gasparde struck with his spike, Foxy ducked, but Gasparde’s foot followed, catching Foxy off guard and sending him sprawling.
Pursuing him quickly, Gasparde transformed his right hand into a green sword, slashing at Foxy mercilessly. Rolling aside, Foxy attempted a sweeping kick, causing Gasparde to stumble and fall due to his heightened caution.
Seeing his chance, Foxy formed the familiar orchid finger pose with his right hand, aiming at Gasparde. Anticipating another pink ring, Gasparde instinctively rolled away, but no ring appeared. Instead, Foxy quickly grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it at Gasparde’s face. As Gasparde shielded himself, a pink ring followed the dirt, hitting him squarely.
“You… despicable…” Gasparde muttered slowly, eyes filled with fury as he realised Foxy had tricked him with a feint.
“Heh, you’re still too young,” Foxy laughed, bending down to grab more dirt and smear it on Gasparde’s face. “Since you won’t surrender, I’ll just have to knock you out. Don’t worry, I won’t let you feel any pain.”
Foxy’s fists rained down like a storm. Gasparde, slowed by the pink ring, couldn’t even cry out properly. After a relentless barrage, Foxy finally stood up, stretching lazily. As the fifteen seconds passed, Gasparde, now bruised and swollen like a pig, rolled his eyes back and fainted.
Around them, many watched Foxy with a mixture of awe and unease.
“What are you looking at? Don’t you want to eat dinner? Finish your fights within ten minutes, or both of you will be punished,” the Rear Admiral snapped, bringing everyone back to the reality of their matches.
The other pairs began fighting with no particular technique, relying purely on instinct and raw strength. The battles were fierce.
Ten minutes later, apart from Foxy and Hina, who remained unscathed, everyone else sported fresh bruises. Despite being only twelve, Hina, a Devil Fruit user, quickly subdued her opponent with iron bars created from her power.
By then, Gasparde had woken up, glaring at Foxy with an intense desire for revenge, his face still swollen.
“Now, 1,000 push-ups and sit-ups,” the Rear Admiral ordered. After the exercises, the trainees were soaked in the blood medicine bath for half an hour before eating dinner and were allowed free time or rest.
“Foxy, you hit too hard,” Gasparde grumbled in the blood bath, his eyes swollen like buns.
“Blame yourself for not surrendering and not fainting,” Foxy replied, leaning against the bath’s edge. He had gotten used to the smell over the month, enduring it for the sake of its benefits.
“Berigood, you remember this,” Shuzo yelled at Berigood, who had turned into various balls to dodge Shuzo’s attacks while landing blows on him.
“And you, Drake, next time I’ll knock you out,” Xiu En added, his face swollen like a watermelon, addressing Drake.
Soon, the entire bathhouse was filled with threats and vows to settle scores. After the bath and dinner, Gasparde and the others were taken away to wash socks, their faces filled with despair.
With time left in the evening, Foxy worked on developing his ability for a few hours before heading to bed. Drake and Hina tried to get Foxy to explain his power, but he kept silent. Unlike some fools, he wouldn’t reveal his ability and how it worked, giving his enemies an advantage.
The following day, Foxy woke up at the usual time, quickly getting ready and joining the others on the training ground. The routine began with several laps around the track, followed by various exercises.
By sunset, it was time for the even-numbered trainees to draw lots. Gasparde hoped to draw Foxy’s name for a rematch but ended up with someone else. Foxy’s new opponent was Xiu En.
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