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The crystal-clear sky reflected off the deep blue sea as Atlas and his men slowly sailed along the return route to Loguetown...
"Hey, tell me—wasn't that slash I did earlier totally awesome?"
"Please, no matter how cool that was, I was even cooler. I took down several pirates. I'm getting promoted when we get back."
"Speaking of which, Commander Atlas is incredible. He took out the main forces of the Garfield Pirates with just two strikes."
"Of course! A monster like Commander Atlas would still be considered a monster even among the elites at Marine Headquarters!"
The Marines aboard the warship were still buzzing with excitement from the recent victory, their lively chatter filling the air.
After all, it had been a flawless operation, with zero casualties. Many of them would receive commendations upon returning.
"Marine Headquarters, huh…"
Lying on the deck, basking in the sun, Atlas smiled slightly when he heard that. He slowly raised his hand in front of his face.
The intense sunlight shone through the gaps between his fingers, casting a dappled pattern on his face, making his usually sharp features appear more gentle for a moment.
Loguetown Marine Training Grounds.
A white-haired teenage boy with a strong, muscular upper body, exposed, was jumping around the training field like a frog.
Sweat poured from his body in streams, his eyes full of unwavering determination. It was none other than Smoker.
Ever since Atlas had harshly awakened him in their last encounter, Smoker had pestered him daily for training.
However, the difference in physical strength between them was far too great, and Smoker couldn't keep up.
So Atlas had advised him to start with foundational physical training.
Smoker was a prodigy to begin with. Once he began building his physique, he grew much stronger, and his Devil Fruit abilities became much easier to control.
This only made him more determined to continue strengthening his body.
"Reporting, Commander! We're about to reach Loguetown!"
After two days at sea, Atlas and his crew were finally nearing their destination.
The days of sailing had left his mouth feeling dry and tasteless, so he resolved to treat himself to a hearty meal once ashore.
"All hands—prepare for docking at any time!" Atlas stood and gave the order, his gaze drifting toward the approaching silhouette of Loguetown on the horizon...
"Yo! Smoker, working hard, huh?"
Atlas had just stepped out of the Commander's office and was planning to get in some pre-dinner training when he spotted the drenched figure of Smoker at the training grounds.
He couldn't resist teasing him a little.
"Ah—yes, Atlas-bro!"
"And if it's not too much trouble... Could you give me some pointers later?" Smoker asked with a bashful look.
"Hahaha! Sure thing. I'll use this as a chance to evaluate how much you've improved."
One hour later—
Atlas stood with his arms crossed, looking down at the exhausted Smoker, who lay flat on the ground.
"Not bad, Smoker. Your stamina's improved quite a bit."
"But there's still a huge gap between you and me, Atlas-bro!" Smoker muttered, clearly a little disheartened. To him, Atlas felt like an endless abyss—impossible to measure or catch up to.
"Eh, don't let it get to you. I'll treat you to dinner—cheer up," Atlas said casually as he pulled Smoker up and walked with him out of the base.
A Restaurant in Loguetown
After taking seats and ordering every dish on the menu, Atlas immediately began to devour the food.
At the same time, Smoker ate more politely, still far more reserved than the unruly man he'd grow into over the next decade.
"Atlas-bro, how can I become as strong as you?" Smoker asked after the meal, lighting a cigarette from who knows where and puffing away right in front of Atlas.
Hic "Smoker, what does 'justice' mean to you?" Atlas burped contentedly, but instead of answering Smoker's question, he posed one of his own.
"My justice…?" A trace of confusion flickered in Smoker's eyes.
"Hahaha, don't overthink it. You'll figure out your justice one day," Atlas said, patting Smoker on the shoulder before heading to the counter to pay.
In the world of pirates, belief—or "conviction"—is a strange thing. Almost every person who stands at the top of the sea has a belief they live and die by.
It doesn't need to be anything grand. Take Whitebeard, for example—his belief was simply "having a family." For the Marines, their belief is "justice."
However, due to their diverse life experiences, every Marine holds a different notion of justice.
Akainu follows Absolute Justice.
Aokiji adheres to Lazy Justice.
Kizaru represents Ambiguous Justice.
One thing is certain: having a clear conviction is vital to becoming a top-tier powerhouse.
Take former Admiral Zephyr, for example. Though he was hailed as the youngest Admiral in history, he was just a regular soldier until the age of twenty-eight.
There's no way a person like that could go unnoticed for nearly three decades without a deeply rooted belief.
According to Atlas's theory, belief might be tied to the training of Haki.
After all, in his memories from his past life, Rayleigh once said that Haki is a power hidden within all humans—it's just that most people go their entire lives without unlocking it.
Belief, then, is the unwavering will that a person clings to and follows through with from beginning to end. It isn't about good or evil. And perhaps, belief is the very key to unlocking Haki.
Of course, this is just Atlas's hypothesis. He couldn't be completely sure.
Night fell. Everything was shrouded in darkness—including the hearts of men...
Atlas sat cross-legged on his bed, focusing on the dim talisman within his mind. Yes—he was preparing to activate his next Talisman.
It had been four years since he activated his first one. His body was now strong enough to carry a second.
He'd been wavering between the Ox and Rabbit Talismans, but if they worked the way he theorized, then the Ox Talisman was the optimal choice.
So, Atlas slowly focused his consciousness on the Ox Talisman. Instantly, a glowing white light burst from the blue inscriptions.
Atlas could feel the power granted by the Ox Talisman slowly flowing through his body… His muscles tightened, compact and dense.
East Blue, Loguetown
On the opposite side of the island, by the coastline, a thick wooden stake stood planted in the sand, guarded by a single Marine.
A thick rope was tied to the post, its end extending into the ocean. A faint human silhouette could be seen beneath the water… limp?
Splash!
Suddenly, the Marine on shore heaved with all his strength, pulling the figure from the water—it was Smoker!
This form of training was taught to him by Atlas.
Originally, they had wanted to use seastone weights, but the material was far too rare in the East Blue and wasn't supplied to Loguetown at all. So they settled for seawater instead.
The pressure of deep water not only strengthened his body but also built resistance to exposure to seastone.
That way, if he were caught off guard by seastone in the future, he wouldn't be left completely powerless.
"Commander Smoker, you lasted a full minute longer than last time!" the nearby Marine exclaimed happily.
Smoker had been training like this for several months. At first, he could barely move after surfacing. Now… well, he still collapsed. But it was better than before.
The Marine remained close by during each session, afraid Smoker might become too weak to swim back up and drown.
Smoker didn't respond. He leaned against the stake, breathless, and stared out toward the distant ocean—almost as if he could see the muscular figure that haunted him beneath the waves.
"Commander Smoker, you really shouldn't compare yourself to Commander Atlas… He's a monster among monsters," the Marine said, trying to comfort him.
Meanwhile, nearly a thousand meters below the surface, Atlas was floating silently in the freezing depths.
Everything around him was pitch black, with only a few small Sea Kings swimming by as signs of life. Immense pressure surged in from every direction—but Atlas's expression remained unchanged.
With his current physique, he could easily hold his breath underwater for half an hour. And the deep-sea pressure was molding his body like steel.
He closely observed the changes in his body and compared them with his theories.
As he had suspected, after fully "digesting" the Horse Talisman, its power had become like a natural talent for him—he could now regenerate his body just by using energy.
That led to a bold hypothesis: What if the Zodiac Talismans were similar to Paramecia-type Devil Fruits, and could be divided into superhuman bodies and abilities?
He categorized the Talismans as follows:
Abilities: Rat, Tiger, Dragon, Snake, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, Pig
Bodies: Ox, Rabbit, Horse, Sheep
He had trained under waterfalls, struck himself with sticks… but nothing compared to the deep sea. The pressure here was omnidirectional and perfectly balanced.
Since activating the Ox Talisman, Atlas had noticed that his muscle density, bone strength, and internal organ resilience were all improving at a slow but steady pace.
The Ox Talisman was remaking his body's potential!
Once the Ox Talisman had fully integrated and faded from his mind, he would likely possess the strongest physical talent in the world.
Just like how Big Mom was like an iron balloon with monstrous defense, Atlas would wield overwhelming strength, surpassing even a young Whitebeard!
Of course, his defense wouldn't reach Big Mom's levels, but it would still be terrifying.
"Commander Smoker! Commander Atlas—Vi... Vice Admiral Garp is here! Colonel Randall wants you both to report in!"
A Marine came running up, gasping for breath.
"I got it. I'll call Atlas-bro."
"No need. I already heard."
With the range of his Observation Haki, Atlas had already picked up on the Marine's voice. He strode ashore, soaked from head to toe.
Still, he was a little surprised. Why was Garp himself coming to escort them to Marine Headquarters?
Soon, Atlas and Smoker changed into clean clothes and rushed to the port of Loguetown.
There, they spotted Randall speaking respectfully to a Marine who looked to be around the same age as him, but this was no ordinary officer.
It was none other than the Marine Hero, Garp!
"Yo! Atlas, you little brat. You sure made this old man wait," Garp called out, casually picking his nose with one hand and waving with the other.
"Vice Admiral Garp?! Why did you come in person?" Atlas gestured for the visibly excited Smoker to follow, then quickly walked over to Garp.
"Ah, I was just passing through the East Blue on vacation to visit my grandson. Figured I might as well swing by to pick you up too," Garp said nonchalantly.
"Atlas, Smoker, you two brats better give it your all at Headquarters. Don't bring shame to Loguetown!" Randall warned them with a stern expression.
"Yes, sir!"
"Yes, sir!"
Atlas and Smoker responded with sharp salutes, their voices filled with respect.
"Alright, time to head out. I wonder if Sengoku left any donuts for this old man.
Hahahahaha!" Garp laughed loudly, turning around and heading for the ship, leaving only the tall silhouette of his back behind.
Atlas and Smoker gave a quick wave before following him aboard.
——————
"(⊙o⊙) Wah! Vice Admiral Garp! I admire you so much! Could I get your autograph?"
"Vice Admiral Garp, can you tell me about the time you captured the Pirate King?"
The moment they boarded, Smoker couldn't hold back his excitement and bombarded Garp with questions, practically bouncing with enthusiasm.
Atlas couldn't help but pretend he didn't know the kid.
"Oi! You noisy little brat! Quiet down already!"
Garp, clearly irritated by the barrage of questions, smacked Smoker on the head with his Iron Fist.
A huge bump immediately popped up in the middle of Smoker's white hair, making him look rather ridiculous.
"Reporting to Vice Admiral Garp! We're about to cross the Red Line and enter the Calm Belt!"
A Marine messenger quickly approached with a status report.
"Got it! The old man knows!" Garp barked back.
Instead of entering the Grand Line through Reverse Mountain, their ship was taking the direct route—through the Calm Belt—to reach Marine Headquarters.
To avoid attacks from the Sea Kings that dwell in the Calm Belt, the Marines relied on the genius of Dr. Vegapunk, a man said to possess knowledge 500 years ahead of his time.
By embedding Seastone into the bottom of the ship, they could mask their presence and trick the Sea Kings into thinking the ship was just part of the sea.
However, this method didn't guarantee complete safety—if their luck ran out and they got rammed head-on by a Sea King, they'd still be in trouble.
SPLAAASH!!!
Speak of the devil—an enormous Sea King, nearly 800 meters long, suddenly burst from the ocean surface, barreling straight toward the warship!
But the Marines on deck didn't flinch. Not one of them looked scared. After all, this was Vice Admiral Garp's ship!
"Ahh, Atlas, my boy! I'll leave this one to you. The old man's going to take a nap. Zzz~"
Garp said casually, then closed his eyes and immediately started snoring where he stood.
"EHHH?!"
The surrounding Marines nearly dropped their jaws. Was it okay to be this relaxed at a time like this?!
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