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"Huh? Oh! Alright."
The blond youth was momentarily stunned—after all, Atlas had spoken about fighting so casually. And judging by his tone, it almost sounded like he knew him?
"Silence: Soundproof Barrier!"
The blond youth possessed the powers of the Paramecia-type Silence-Silence Fruit, which was perfect for keeping the noise within the room from leaking out.
It was a dream Devil Fruit for any spy—no wonder he'd later be sent out as an undercover agent.
"Don't worry. This'll be over quickly." Atlas flashed a wide, cocky grin, baring his bright white teeth.
"Oi oi oi! Don't get so full of yourself! You think you've got me all figured out?"
The arrogant young man lying on Atlas's bed finally started to crack, realizing Atlas wasn't joking.
He knew that if he got into trouble for fighting before training even started, his Rear Admiral father would beat him senseless.
That's right—he wasn't afraid of Atlas hitting him; he was terrified of his dad's palm. To him, Atlas just looked like a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old kid.
Sure, he seemed strong, but coming from the East Blue? How tough could he be?
Grus, on the other hand, had been raised on the Grand Line and trained under strict military discipline his whole life!
But Atlas quickly taught Grus a lesson—with his fists: Age has nothing to do with strength!
Soru!
In a flash, Atlas appeared behind Grus, aiming to end the fight in a single move.
Tekkai!
As the son of a Rear Admiral, Grus had learned a few of the Six Powers (Rokushiki). However, Tekkai was one of the more basic techniques.
But to Grus's horror, the Tekkai that his father had always praised didn't stand a chance against Atlas's punch—it felt like it was made of paper.
Boom!
A force unlike anything he'd ever faced crashed into him. For a split second, Grus felt like he was facing his father's wrath again.
He fell face-first onto the floor and decided to lie there and pretend to be unconscious.
"Oi, you're not dead. Get up and put my stuff back where it belongs."
Atlas had already sensed through Observation Haki that Grus was faking it, and his tone was anything but friendly.
"H-Hey, sure thing, Boss! Right away! I'm Grus! What's your name, Boss?"
Grus quickly got up and shamelessly declared Atlas his boss, not even trying to keep up the act anymore.
"Just call me Atlas."
Atlas couldn't do much about someone like him. After all, you don't punch someone who's smiling at you.
"Hey, you—blond kid. What's your name?"
Atlas called out to the blond youth. Even though he was the youngest one there, he still talked like the elder—it was a bit ridiculous.
"My name's Rosinante. Also, it seems like you know me. How did you know my Devil Fruit power could help you cover your tracks?"
Rosinante looked a little shy but still gathered the courage to ask.
Deep down, he wondered if Atlas was someone sent by the World Government's CP division to monitor him, so he was feeling a bit guarded.
"Ah? I don't know you. I just asked you to keep an eye out, that's all. Didn't expect your Devil Fruit would be this useful." Atlas shrugged it off casually.
What he was thinking was: Heh, not only do I know you, I know your last name is Donquixote.
You used to be a Celestial Dragon, you're Admiral Sengoku's adopted son, and two years from now, you'll go undercover in the Donquixote Family and betray Doflamingo.
"Oh, I see."
Rosinante didn't say if he believed him or not, but Atlas didn't care either way—it was no big deal to him.
"Atlas, bro, I'm back!" Suddenly, the dorm door burst open—it was Smoker.
Grus, who had sharp ears, immediately slowed down his cleanup and looked up to size Smoker up.
This new kid looked about the same age as Atlas, but physically, he didn't seem nearly as strong. Grus started feeling confident again.
Smoker walked in, saw his roommates, and greeted them with a smile.
"Hey guys! I'm Smoker, from the East Blue branch. I've got the Logia-type Smoke-Smoke Fruit."
The moment he mentioned a Logia-type, Grus and Rosinante both stiffened.
A Logia? One of the rarest and most powerful Devil Fruits? He must be the strongest in this batch of recruits!
But... looking at how respectful Smoker was toward Atlas, could it be... he already mastered Armament Haki?
Grus was a bit puzzled. Having grown up on the Grand Line, he had a broader perspective than someone like Smoker.
He knew what Armament Haki was. But now he was just feeling depressed. It turns out... he's the weakest one in the dorm.
Two Devil Fruit users—one of them Logia—and one guy built like a monster. So much for trying to establish dominance as the dorm boss. Now, he was just the errand boy.
"Oi! Smoker, you little punk. Where were you messing around just now?" Atlas teased, noticing how late he'd returned.
"Tch. Ran into a troublesome recruit. Got into a fight with her."
"Oh?"
Everyone in the room perked up at that. Someone troublesome enough to fight a Logia user? Is this year's recruit batch that terrifying?
Grus suddenly wondered: Is it too late to drop out?
"Was she a Devil Fruit user too?" Atlas asked the obvious question.
"Yeah, Paramecia-type Cage-Cage Fruit—at least, that's what she said. But she still couldn't beat me!" Smoker lifted his chin slightly, clearly proud.
"Alright, alright. We've got our first roll call early tomorrow. You guys should get some sleep. I'm heading out to squeeze in some extra training."
Atlas wasn't too bothered. With his current level of combat power, he was practically a human bulldozer who could steamroll the entire training camp.
Besides, his bones and muscle density were still growing. Unless he faced some top-tier Logia users, he had nothing to fear.
"Eh? You're still going to train this late?" Rosinante and Grus were both shocked.
But Smoker? He looked calm. He had personally experienced Atlas's training regimen. Just the warm-up alone had nearly exhausted him.
It was clear—no one becomes strong out of nowhere.
....
Grand Line — Marine Headquarters, Marineford
"Toot—Toot—!"
A sharp whistle cut through the quiet night over the Marine recruit training camp.
It was 5:00 AM.
Most recruits, still adjusting to the headquarters, were fast asleep in their warm beds. But Atlas had already completed his daily sword-slash drills.
Soon, about 160 recruits had assembled in the training yard. Atlas strolled in at his own pace, joining Smoker and the others without a rush.
Standing at the front of the training field was a middle-aged man with short purple hair.
His half-open uniform revealed a chiseled chest, and his thick neck looked like it was fused with his scalp.
It was Black Arm Zephyr—Chief Instructor of the Marine Recruit Training Camp.
Behind him stood a towering man with a dark complexion, powerful build, long arms that hung past his knees, and a small ponytail.
To Atlas's surprise, the man was from the Longarm Tribe—a rare sight.
Atlas remembered there was a Supernova from the Longarm Tribe in the Worst Generation, many years in the future.
Zephyr calmly stood in front of the somewhat restless recruits. His gaze swept across the crowd before he finally spoke.
"Quiet down! I'm disappointed in you. If you're still arriving now, don't bother coming—you're already eliminated!"
His voice wasn't loud, but every word carried clearly to each recruit's ears. The late arrivals instantly turned pale, collapsing in despair.
The Marine Recruit Training Camp was known as the cradle of Marine officers. Graduating from here meant you'd at least become a commissioned officer.
But getting expelled? That stain would follow them for life.
"No, Instructor Zephyr, please! Give us one more chance!"
Some still pleaded, hoping he'd go easy on them.
"You are Marines! You must protect the people of the world. If you can't even follow the most basic orders, how can you ever uphold justice?"
Though known as the "Non-Killing Admiral," Zephyr was far from soft-hearted. As a Marine, you must have absolute discipline and obedience.
After dismissing the failures, Zephyr's gaze slowly swept the crowd until it locked onto Atlas. A faint, meaningful smile curved on his lips.
"Kanos Atlas, huh… I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do."
"ATTENTION!" His voice rang out again.
"I know many of you come from the Four Blues. Some of you are already famous in your local branches. Some hail from the Grand Line. Some of your parents even hold high ranks in the Marines.
But in this place, forget all of that! I've even taught some of your parents. Don't expect any special treatment from me!"
He paused, scanning their expressionless faces, and continued:
"My name is Zephyr. I'm your Chief Instructor! Maybe some of you have heard of me. Those who haven't? Doesn't matter. Just follow orders. Am I clear!?"
"YES, SIR!!" Every recruit roared with all their strength. Atlas was no exception.
"Good." Zephyr nodded in approval, then stepped back.
"Now, your martial arts instructor, Juzuo, will explain the details of your training."
The towering man stepped forward.
"Greetings. I'm Juzuo. You can call me Instructor Juzuo. I'll be responsible for your hand-to-hand combat training, and I also serve as Zephyr-sensei's assistant."
"This training program will last for three years. Of course, you may graduate early—if you can pass Chief Instructor Zephyr's assessment." He cracked a slight joke as he said this.
"Tomorrow, we'll begin with a strength evaluation. This will help us understand your capabilities so we can tailor training programs for each of you, helping you achieve maximum growth in the shortest time possible!"
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