As the dawn broke over Marineford, most Marines were just beginning to stir, readying themselves for the day's training. But one figure was already well into his routine, his silhouette standing starkly against the early light by the sea.
At the edge of Marineford, an area most avoided stretched into view—a field of battered and abandoned Marine warships, collectively known as the ship graveyard. Massive, twisted hulks of steel lay scattered, the ships worn down by years of battle and left here to rot. But to Luffy, it was the perfect training ground.
Barefoot and shirtless, Luffy stood before the looming wreckage of a once-proud warship, his knuckles already raw and bloody from hours of relentless impact. The sight would have been unnerving to most; the old, rusted hull of the ship bore deep dents from repeated strikes, a testament to the intensity of Luffy's punches. With each hit, the metal groaned, reverberating through the air, yet Luffy pressed on, his eyes sharp and unyielding.
He continued his assault, punch after punch, each one more forceful than the last. His fists met steel with sickening thuds, his skin tearing further, but he showed no sign of stopping. His breath came in steady, controlled rhythms, his focus unwavering.
An hour later, when the bells rang for breakfast, Luffy paused briefly, wiping the sweat from his brow before heading to the mess hall. His arrival was met with murmurs from the other Marines, who eyed his bruised and bloodied hands with a mix of awe and disbelief.
"Did you hear? He's been at the ship graveyard since dawn," One Marine whispered.
Another shook his head, watching Luffy as he casually piled food onto his plate. "I don't get it. That kid's just… relentless."
A young recruit stared at Luffy in wonder. "They say he's Vice Admiral Garp's grandson. Guess toughness runs in the family."
Across the mess hall, Sengoku and Tsuru were observing as well, their expressions a mix of curiosity and mild concern.
"You see this?" Sengoku muttered to Tsuru, his gaze fixed on Luffy. "The boy's tearing himself apart every morning in that graveyard. I can't understand what drives him."
Tsuru, as composed as ever, gave a slight nod. "There's something different about him, Sengoku. It's not just Garp's influence… He's motivated by something else, something intense."
Sengoku frowned, thoughtful. "It's as if he's challenging himself, pushing himself beyond what even the average Marine could endure."
Their attention shifted as Garp joined them, chuckling as he noticed their scrutiny. "So, you've seen him, huh? Kid's got a fire in him, that's for sure."
Sengoku sighed, crossing his arms. "A fire? That's an understatement, Garp. He's… punishing himself, morning to night. That can't be healthy for a child his age."
Garp just laughed, shrugging. "Luffy's tougher than he looks. He's already got more grit than half the Marines here."
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Luffy returned to the graveyard, his breakfast devoured in record time. He squared off once more with a warship's hull, delivering another series of brutal punches, each one punctuated with a grunt of exertion.
Hours passed, and by midday, his hands were slick with blood, his knuckles swollen and torn. Yet he continued, his mind set on a singular goal—to grow stronger.
Pain was irrelevant; all that mattered was pushing his limits.
Occasionally, Marines wandered past the graveyard, stopping to stare in astonishment.
Some tried to approach him, offering bandages or cautionary words, but Luffy's unwavering gaze and curt replies discouraged them from lingering.
"Hey, kid… maybe take a break?" Admiral Aokiji suggested hesitantly, wincing as he noticed the raw state of Luffy's fists.
Luffy turned, flashing him a lopsided grin. "A break? Nah, I'm just getting started."
Aokiji gulped, mumbling slightly. "I-I mean, you're not wrong, but… that ship hull isn't exactly gonna go easy on you."
Luffy shrugged, brushing him off as he resumed his punches, the metallic clang echoing through the air.
By late afternoon, Luffy's actions had become a topic of widespread conversation among the Marines, some of whom were beginning to gather by the graveyard to watch him in action.
His reputation was spreading rapidly, tales of his relentless training drawing curious glances and hushed conversations wherever he went.
Inside Marine Headquarters, Sengoku, Tsuru, and several other officers gathered in the conference room, deep in discussion about the boy who had become the talk of the base.
"Every day, it's the same thing," Tsuru said quietly, glancing at Sengoku. "He doesn't stop, even when his knuckles are bleeding, even when his body's clearly reaching its limit."
Admiral Kizaru, raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Ooooh, seems like the boy's a bit of a daredevil, doesn't he?"
Sengoku, however, didn't share Kizaru's amusement. "This isn't just some childish dare or show of strength. He's dedicated in a way that I rarely see, even in seasoned Marines."
Admiral Akainu, who had been listening in silence, crossed his arms and gave a curt nod. "He has a resolve I respect. But I wonder if it's driven by something more… unusual."
Sengoku nodded, leaning back in his chair. "I agree. Garp's grandson or not, there's something… strange about him. He's too focused, too… methodical."
Just then, Garp entered the room, clearly amused by the conversation.
"What? Still talking about my grandson?" He grinned, waving a hand dismissively. "You all worry too much. The kid's got his own path to walk."
Sengoku rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Garp, the boy is using Marine warships as punching bags. If he's not careful, he'll—"
"He'll get stronger," Garp interrupted firmly, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "Let the kid do what he needs to do."
Tsuru gave Garp a pointed look. "You're not concerned about his well-being?"
Garp shrugged. "Luffy knows his limits better than anyone. He's walking the same path I did—and believe me, he'll be just fine."
As evening approached, Luffy finally halted his training, his body exhausted but his spirit unbroken. He collapsed onto the sand near the ship graveyard, staring up at the sky with a sense of satisfaction. His body ached, his knuckles were raw, but he felt… stronger. His mind wandered to the future, the ambitions that drove him forward.
Just as he began to catch his breath, he sensed a presence nearby. Turning, he saw Ain standing a few feet away, watching him with an unreadable expression.
"You're… really something," She murmured, her voice soft but filled with a hint of admiration.
Luffy smirked, chuckling as he sat up. "Didn't think anyone would still be here."
Ain hesitated before sitting beside him, her gaze drifting to his battered hands. "You're pushing yourself so hard. Aren't you… worried about the toll it's taking?"
Luffy shrugged, glancing down at his hands with a grin. "Pain's just part of the process. Every punch makes me stronger."
She shook her head, marveling at his resilience. "You're going to become a legend around here, you know."
Luffy laughed, a genuine sound that seemed to lighten the air around them. "Maybe. But I'm just focused on getting stronger, one punch at a time."
They sat in silence, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore filling the space between them.
Ain's respect for him had grown over the past few weeks.
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