Rocks' words stirred something in Shiki's chest—a rush of excitement, a surge of hot-blooded ambition.
King of the World?
What a colossal ambition!
He lit a cigar and took a deep drag. "Your ambition, I have to admire. But…"
"I, Shiki, have no intention of playing second fiddle to anyone!"
"Wahahaha—" Rocks' eyes gleamed with appreciation. "I like that rebellious streak of yours. In that case…"
"Wanna play a game?"
Before Shiki could respond, he took the lead with characteristic dominance and began explaining, "It's a game called Davy Back Fight. Best two out of three. The loser has to swear an oath to Davy Jones—a lifelong pledge of loyalty to the winner!"
"Come on!"
"I know you're not the kind to take a loss lying down. Play it with me!"
Rocks was practically vibrating with excitement, a wild grin stretched across his untamed face.
"If you lose, you pledge allegiance to me!" Shiki's eyes lit up. With that bastard Klein taking out his men, he was in the market for new ones.
And this guy in front of him? A perfect fit.
Rocks pulled out a bottle and tossed it to Shiki. "Since you agreed, we'll wait until you've healed up. Man, I'm fired up for this—!"
Shiki caught the bottle mid-air, momentarily stunned. Looking at the bottle in his hand and thinking about how Rocks wanted him to rest, he felt a flicker of strange emotion.
"Gehahahaha—" Shiki popped the cork and chugged the bottle, his throat moving in big gulps. "Even injured, I could beat you. I'm the Golden Lion, Shiki!"
Rocks gave a knowing smile. "Shiki, your injuries are no joke. Once you've healed, we'll settle this fair and square—that's how you respect the Davy Back Fight."
"But…"
"I am curious—just how the hell did you get that injury?"
Shiki's upper body was wrapped up like a damn mummy. And it wasn't just superficial—those wounds were serious. Whoever did that wasn't some small fry.
"Marine—Klein," Shiki said flatly.
Rocks was visibly shaken. "You mean that Klein? The one the papers call the most talented Marine in history?"
"That's the one."
Shiki's expression turned grim, biting down hard on the cigar stem. "That guy is terrifying. I didn't even face him… And I still couldn't fight back."
"???"
Rocks' face twisted in shock. He frowned deeply. "Hold on, hold on—you didn't even meet the guy face-to-face, and you still got wrecked like that?"
"..."
For Shiki, it was a painful memory. "To be precise, I was defeated by Klein's scroll. He sealed a sword technique inside it."
"One move. That was all it took to injure me. I nearly died out there on the sea."
Then he burst out laughing: "Gehahahaha—"
"I didn't die. As long as I'm alive, I'll grow stronger. One day, Klein will pay!"
Rocks was stunned. His eyes gleamed with a ferocious light. "Klein, huh? I'll remember that name. If we ever meet on the sea, I want to test his swordsmanship myself."
"See who's really stronger."
Rocks laughed. "Wahahahaha—must be fate. If it weren't for Klein, I might not have met you so soon, Shiki!"
"Trust me. This sea's about to get wild—because of me, Rocks D. Xebec!"
Hearing that, Shiki's face turned complicated. He thought, 'I always thought I was wild enough. But this guy… he's even crazier than I am…'
He scowled. "Hey! Don't act like you've already won. My swordsmanship's no joke!"
"Wahahaha—" Rocks slung his arm over his shoulder like they were best friends already. "Once you're healed, let's have a proper match!"
Meanwhile.
New World – Marine G-1 Base.
During a training session, Marine Admiral Rampaging Bear Lincoln was doing one-finger push-ups.
On his back were stacks of circular weight plates.
In his other hand? A tub of a special training shake—packed with protein powder, creatine, and all sorts of muscle-boosting goodies.
"Delicious!"
"My body feels amazing!!"
"No talent? Then I'll just repeat!"
"I'm working extra hard today!!"
Rampaging Bear Lincoln was fully immersed in the joy of 'working out,' completely tireless.
It was like an addiction.
The world is full of weird people. Most folks are hooked on things like games, smoking, or... "private activities."
But Lincoln? He was addicted to lifting.
"I can feel my muscles tearing! I can feel them growing! I feel stronger already—this is incredible!" Sweat streamed down his glossy, jet-black skin.
His body was glistening with oil and motion.
Sweat dripped onto the floor with each rep.
Suddenly, the quiet of the training room was broken—the door creaked open, and Kong stepped inside.
Lincoln didn't stop. "Kong, you look down. Let me guess—you failed? Shiki's a Paramecia-type who can float. Slippery bastard—hard to catch, not your fault."
"Just barely missed him…" Kong walked to the equipment rack and began silently selecting weights. His face was full of regret. "But even if that bastard Shiki escaped, he's got such a heavy injury, he'll be laying low for a while."
"Ohhh—" Lincoln grinned wide. "Wahahaha—not bad, Kong. Nicely done."
Kong's expression darkened. "Shiki's injury wasn't from me. It was Klein."
"Klein?" Lincoln paused, looking up. "You saw Klein out there?"
"No…" Kong looked grim, frozen mid-motion, holding a weight plate.
Lincoln's brain scrambled like a tangled mess of yarn. "Wait wait wait—you didn't see him? Weren't you the one chasing Shiki? So how the hell did Klein injure him?"
"Considering Klein's strength, injuring Shiki isn't shocking. Are you upset because of that?"
"..." Kong fell silent. He was upset. Not just a little, either.
But his mindset was solid. "Klein now has the Scroll-Scroll Fruit. He sealed a slash inside a scroll and hit Shiki with it—just one strike left him in critical condition!"
"I suspect…"
"No—I'm pretty sure… Klein already has Admiral-level combat strength. That slash? I couldn't take it. Even if I survived, I'd be seriously wounded!"
BOOM BOOM BOOM—
Lincoln suddenly stood, sending all the weight plates on his back crashing to the floor. The ground shook under the impact.
He was visibly shaken. "Whew—Kong, you're not joking, are you?"
"Klein—he's only been at sea for, what, a few months? And he already has Admiral-level strength!?"
Admiral-level strength!?
Lincoln vaguely remembered that just a few months ago, Klein and Kong were still trading blows as equals.
And now?
In just a few short months, he'd grown enough to rival an Admiral?
Even steroids couldn't explain this!
What, did you think raising an Admiral was like raising pigs?
Or chickens!?
In a few months, a piglet grows into a fat hog!?
Right now, the Marines only had one Admiral. Fleet Admiral Oharden, that old bastard, was pulling his hair out over it. He'd petitioned the World Government repeatedly to assign someone worthy to take the post.
"Mr. Lincoln, do I look like I'm joking?" Kong said with a dead-serious face.
"…Alright."
Lincoln knew Kong's personality. His jaw dropped. "But seriously—this is nuts!?"
"How many people spend their whole lives never crossing that gap—and he…"
"He cleared it in months!?"
Mental breakdown.
Lincoln had trained at high intensity for decades—fought battle after battle—to become an Admiral.
And that kid…
Did it in months?
Rampaging Bear Lincoln felt a pang in his chest. He was depressed. Deeply. Existence questioned.
'Which matters more—talent, or effort?'