The spar between Kyle and Roger did more than just scuff up the deck of the Oro Jackson; it planted a seed of aspiration deep in the hearts of the two youngest apprentices.
After the fight, the crew returned to their usual drinking and boasting. Roger, meanwhile, was getting an earful from Rayleigh, who was tugging on his ear and lecturing him about using a potentially ship-wrecking move like God Avoidance onboard their own vessel. Roger just stubbornly argued back that it wasn't a special move, just a regular, normal attack.
Ignoring the chaos, Shanks and Buggy made their way over to Kyle. They stood on either side of him, their small faces tilted up, their eyes shining with an astonishing brightness.
"Brother Kyle!" Shanks spoke first, his voice filled with excitement. "That move you just used… was that some kind of air explosion? It was so cool! Can I learn how to do that?"
Buggy, on the other hand, was staring intently at Kyle's naginata, which was leaning against the railing. His mind wasn't on how cool the move was; he was busy calculating its practical applications. If he could learn a move that powerful, would he even need to pry open treasure chests anymore? Could he just make all the gold coins fly out with a single, mighty "bang"?
"You want to learn?" Kyle asked, not even lifting his eyes from the hilt of his blade he was wiping down.
"Yes!" the two boys said in unison, nodding their heads so vigorously they looked like they were trying to pound garlic.
Kyle finally stopped his movements. He turned around and looked down at them with a faint smile. His gaze wasn't warm and unrestrained like Roger's, nor was it gentle and wise like Rayleigh's. It was like looking into a bottomless ancient well, and it made the two young boys feel an inexplicable sense of guilt, as if their innermost thoughts were being laid bare.
"Why do you want to become stronger?" Kyle asked patiently.
"I…" Shanks puffed out his chest, his voice ringing with passion. "I want to become as strong as Captain Roger! Then I'll go search for the world's greatest treasure—no, I mean, I'll embark on the world's greatest adventure!"
Kyle nodded, then turned his gaze to the other boy. "And you?"
Buggy licked his lips and shouted his lifelong dream without a hint of hesitation. "This great master wants to learn the strongest moves, beat up all the guys who get in my way, and snatch all the treasure in the world! I'm going to be the richest pirate alive!"
A truly spirited declaration.
"Very good." The corner of Kyle's mouth curved into an almost imperceptible arc. "But you know, Roger and Rayleigh won't teach you."
"Huh?" Shanks looked stunned.
"The Captain will just laugh and say, 'Kuhahaha, just do it like this, and then like that!' before dragging you off to drink. And Rayleigh will give you a long lecture full of big words that you won't understand at all," Kyle said, perfectly mimicking their tones.
Shanks and Buggy exchanged a glance. Kyle's imitations were spot-on; that was exactly what had happened the last few times they had tried to ask.
"So," Kyle continued, "you want me to teach you?"
The two boys began nodding frantically again.
"It's about time someone did… Alright, leave it to me." Kyle agreed so readily that it caught them off guard, and both of their hearts skipped a beat.
"But," he added, his smile taking on a dangerous edge, "my way of teaching is a little different from theirs." A memory flashed through Kyle's mind of his own early days on the ship, a time of tears and brutal training devised by a much-too-enthusiastic Roger and Rayleigh. 'Ah, my lost youth,' he thought wryly. 'I had to stand in the rain, so now… it's my turn to tear up someone else's umbrella.'
"Come with me. It's time to choose your weapons."
Kyle led them into the ship's armory. Shanks, without a moment's hesitation, walked straight to a rack of longswords and picked up a cutlass very similar in length and style to Roger's "Ace." He gave it a few practice swings, his face filled with pure adoration for his captain. A true successor in the making.
Buggy, however, wandered around the armory, considering his options. Longswords were too cumbersome, axes were too barbaric. Finally, his eyes settled on a row of short, nimble daggers. He picked up two, weighed them in his hands, and a satisfied smile spread across his face. Daggers were easy to hide, quick to use, and far more convenient for surprise attacks or threatening people. A true schemer.
"Have you chosen?" Kyle confirmed.
"Mhm!"
"Very good," Kyle nodded. "Starting tomorrow, your training officially begins."
Shanks and Buggy looked at each other, a blazing fire of ambition in their eyes. They imagined they would be learning cool sword techniques and awesome special moves.
Reality, however, was about to hit them like a slap in the face.
The next morning, long before dawn, while the two boys were still dreaming of becoming legendary pirates, a teeth-grinding buzzing sound filled their cabin. It wasn't a loud noise, but a deep resonance that vibrated straight through their skulls, feeling as if their left brains were at war with their right.
"Who is it?!" Buggy yelled, clutching his head as he shot up from his bed.
A groggy Shanks opened his eyes to see Kyle standing over their beds, a sinister look on his face.
"Hehehe, you have five minutes to assemble on deck. If you're one second late, today's training volume doubles," Kyle said cheerfully. With that, he turned and left the two bewildered boys in the dusty morning light.
When they stumbled onto the deck, they weren't greeted with sword lessons. They were greeted with Kyle's cold, hard words.
"Alright… let's warm up with one hundred laps around the deck."
"O-one hundred laps?!" Buggy's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "I'll die!"
Kyle extended a finger and flicked it lightly. A subtle shockwave shot through the air and hit Buggy squarely on his backside, launching him forward as if he'd been kicked.
"Ah! My butt!"
Seeing this, Shanks didn't dare waste another second and started running on his short legs. And so, a peculiar morning ritual began on the Oro Jackson: two little boys running for their lives around the deck, while their "chief instructor" Kyle sat leisurely in a lounge chair, sipping orange juice and occasionally flicking a shockwave at Buggy whenever he started to slow down.
"You bastard, Kyle! This is child abuse!" Buggy cried out between ragged breaths.
His only response was another, stronger shockwave.
"Hahahaha! I said the same thing to Roger back in the day, and he hit me with a God Avoidance! If you have the energy to shout, you haven't reached your limit yet!" Kyle called back.
The rest of the crew eventually emerged from their cabins, laughing at the familiar, yet still amusing, sight. Jabba walked over to Kyle. "You're really putting them through the wringer. They're just kids."
"So what? The sea won't go easy on them just because they're kids," Kyle said, taking a sip of his juice. "Besides, this is exactly what I went through."
After a hundred laps, the two boys collapsed onto the deck like dehydrated fish, too exhausted to even curse. But it wasn't over.
"Five minutes rest," Kyle announced, glancing at an hourglass. "Then, fifty frog jumps, back and forth across the deck."
"..."
"One hundred push-ups! No dinner until you're finished!"
"..."
"Now, go lift the ship's anchor. Hold it for ten minutes."
"..."
Throughout the day, Shanks and Buggy experienced the darkest, most painful day of their short lives. Kyle used his Wave-Wave Fruit abilities with cruel precision, ensuring they couldn't slack off for even a second.
That evening, as the sun finally sank below the horizon, they were allowed to rest. They slumped into their chairs in the dining hall, their hands trembling so badly they could barely hold their spoons. Buggy tearfully shoveled food into his mouth, shooting daggers at Kyle, who was calmly playing chess with Rayleigh nearby.
Shanks ate in silence. His body was pushed to its absolute limit, but his eyes, far from being dull with exhaustion, held a new glint of toughness. He could feel a power deep within his small body, screaming as it struggled to break free.
"So, how does it feel?" Roger asked, sitting down between them with a large platter of roasted meat.
"Kyle… is a devil!" Buggy accused through a mouthful of food.
Roger just threw his head back and laughed. "Kuhahaha! This is nothing! It's not even close to the special training plan Rayleigh and I came up with for him!" He grabbed the largest piece of meat and shoved it into Shanks's mouth, ruffling his hair. "It's not that easy to catch up to me, kid! If you can't even endure a little hardship like this, you can forget about having any adventures!"
Shanks chewed the meat vigorously, as if he were chewing through the day's pain and exhaustion. He looked up at his captain and nodded with fierce determination.
From across the room, Kyle, seemingly focused on his chess game, watched the two boys from the corner of his eye. He moved a piece on the board, checkmating Rayleigh. He then picked up his glass of orange juice and said, just loud enough for the boys to hear: "Tomorrow morning, we'll be running with weights."
In the distance, the spoon in Buggy's hand clattered onto his plate. A long, mournful "Noooooo" echoed through the dining hall.
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