"You want to join the Marine Academy? How old are you, fifteen yet?"
Fifteen was the minimum enlistment age for the Marine Academy. Anyone younger wouldn't even be considered by Z.
"I'm eight." Rosinante said, meeting Z's eyes.
Z frowned and shook his head. "Eight? That's far too young. Come back when you're fifteen. Then we'll talk."
Rosinante was having none of it.
Wait, seven years?
By then, the tide will have long passed. He knew full well that the Marines' future top brass would all come from Z's first and second classes. If he waited too long, he'd end up in the same unit as people like Smoker, just another run-of-the-mill Captain. How could he possibly influence the upper ranks of the Navy that way?
Would an Admiral ever take the advice of someone on equal footing or from a subordinate, or worse, a junior cadet? Without status, there's no voice. Without voice, there's no respect. If he wanted to change the Marines from within, he had to rise—and rise fast.
Power. Achievements. Experience. Those were the three pillars of advancement in the Navy. Without all three, you wouldn't last. But Rosinante wasn't just looking to survive, his goal was to reshape the Marines from the top down. That meant one thing: he needed to climb higher than anyone else.
"Mr. Z." Rosinante said firmly, "I may only be eight, but I swear to you—my resolve to grow stronger is second to none. Please, give me a chance!"
His eyes locked onto Z's, burning with determination.
Z was taken aback by the intensity in that gaze, but he still shook his head. That's when Garp finally spoke up.
"Oi oi, Z. The kid's got guts! If he wants to learn at the Academy, let him."
"You don't understand, Garp." Z snapped. "The Academy's not a daycare. The training regimen there would crush a kid this young!"
"I can handle it, Mr. Z!" Rosinante said, stepping forward again.
"There, you hear that?" Garp chimed in with a grin. "He's made up his mind! Come on, Z, give the boy a shot. Besides, everyone at this party brought Rosinante a gift except you. Why not make this his gift? Let him enroll!"
Z scowled, obviously conflicted. Rosinante turned to Sengoku, silently pleading.
Sengoku held Rosinante's gaze. He was already thinking about the long-term. Once he was assigned to the G-5 Fortress in the New World, he wouldn't be able to stay by Rosinante's side. And while the Silence-Silence Fruit had great potential, it was proving difficult to master. Sengoku's strengths were in Devil Fruit control and strategy, not pure martial arts or Haki.
When it came to hand-to-hand combat, Sengoku wasn't on the same level as Garp or Z. If Rosinante wanted to improve physically, then Z was the ideal mentor: strong, disciplined, and responsible—the perfect teacher.
"Z," Sengoku said at last, "please accept Rosinante into the Academy. I won't be able to guide him personally once I'm stationed at G-5. I'm counting on you to help him grow."
That changed everything. Everyone knew that Z's retirement from the Admiral post had dumped a massive workload on Sengoku's shoulders. For him to personally request help, this wasn't something to take lightly.
"Ugh…" Z hesitated. "I…"
Just then, Fleet Admiral Kong spoke up. "Z, come on. Rosinante is Sengoku's only son. If he's not settled properly, how can Sengoku focus on stabilizing the New World?"
"…Fine." Z finally relented with a sigh.
Sengoku smiled with relief. "Well? What are you waiting for? Thank Mr. Z!"
"Ah... thank you so much, Mr. Z—"
"Hold it." Z raised a hand, cutting Rosinante off. "Don't thank me just yet. I haven't finished."
Rosinante blinked. "Huh?"
"I may have agreed in principle, but if you want to attend the Academy, you'll have to pass a physical fitness test."
"A test?" Rosinante tilted his head in confusion.
Z explained, "One month from now, if you can drag Garp's third-grade cannonball around the Academy field for one full lap, I'll let you in. No exceptions."
Ding...! System has detected a major choice for the Host. Will you accept Z's entrance test?
Gladly Accept: ("Bring it on, Mr. Z. I accept your challenge, I will succeed!")
Reward from the League of Legends Equipment System: Ruby Crystal
Refuse the Test: ("No way! This is bullying! Dad, we're going home—I'm not going to the Academy!")
Reward: Kindlegem
Refuse and Curse Z: ("You old bastard! Picking on a kid? I curse your students to become traitors—one orders, one kills, one digs your grave!")
Reward: Spirit Visage
Hearing the system prompt, Rosinante wanted nothing more than to reach through space and punch the guy programming these choices. The Spirit Visage was tempting, it offered high resistance to magic damage. And in the world of One Piece, powers from Logia-type Devil Fruits were everywhere.
Owning that armor would make him far more durable, especially against elemental attacks. It was absolutely worth having.
But the cost? Cursing Z's students? One who gives the order, one who executes it, one who buries him? He'd get pulverized on the spot.
Nope. Not worth it. Time to play it safe and humble.
Rosinante took a deep breath, looked Z in the eye, and said sincerely, "Mr. Z, I'm willing to take the test."
"Good. That's the spirit." Z nodded, visibly pleased. "If you pass, you'll be admitted as a special recruit."
"Yes, sir!"
Rosinante stood at attention and saluted like a real Marine. Z chuckled for the first time that evening, while everyone else watched with a mix of amusement and pity.
This foolish kid…
He had no idea what kind of trial awaited him. Garp's third-grade cannonball? No ordinary child could even lift it.
(End of Chapter)
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