In a flash, several months of Kyle's devilish training had passed. For the two young apprentices, the deck of the Oro Jackson was no longer a purgatory of groans and complaints; it had become their personal paradise, a place to sweat and grow stronger.
Their bodies, once completely exhausted after a hundred laps, could now handle two hundred laps with heavy weights and still have enough energy to trade insults afterward. Their arms, once too weak to even budge the ship's anchor, could now effortlessly haul entire crates of cannonballs across the deck. The changes were astonishing. Shanks had grown taller, the lean muscles on his frame were beginning to show, and the simple longing in his eyes had hardened into a sharp glint of determination. Buggy, though still small in stature, now moved with the sharp, sudden grace of a leopard, and the eyes that were once fixated only on treasure now gleamed with cunning during a fight.
This afternoon, the sun was warm and the sea was calm. Shanks and Buggy had just finished a grueling set of sword drills, their hair plastered to their foreheads with sweat that trickled down their faces.
"Hey, you two!" Jabba called out, leaning against the ship's railing. "What's the use of practicing all day if you don't show us what you've got? How about it? Do you dare to have a real fight in front of everyone?"
At his words, the deck immediately buzzed with excitement. Nozdon stopped polishing the cannons, Dolinger poked his head out from the crow's nest, and even Rayleigh, who was at the helm, cast an interested gaze in their direction.
"Ooh, a fight! A fight!"
"I'll bet on Shanks! He's got Captain Roger's spirit!"
"No way, I'm putting my money on Buggy! That kid's full of tricks; he's not one to take a loss lying down!"
The crew's cheers echoed across the ship, and some pirates even started taking bets on the spot.
Buggy's eyes lit up the moment he heard the word "bets." He tapped his palm with the pommel of his dagger and lifted his chin provocatively at Shanks. "Hey, Red-Hair, care to make this interesting? Whoever loses has to give their allowance for the next month to the winner!"
"You're on, Red-Nose!" Shanks shot back, swinging his cutlass off his shoulder. He pointed its tip directly at Buggy, his posture radiating fighting spirit. "It's time I showed you what I've learned these past few months!"
The two boys quickly took their stances as the surrounding crew members backed away, forming a natural arena in the center of the deck. Roger appeared out of nowhere, holding a large barrel of wine, and plopped down enthusiastically on a nearby wooden box. "Kuhahaha! This is gonna be good! Let 'em fight!"
As always, Kyle leaned in the cool shadow of the main mast, holding his perpetually full glass of orange juice, a silent observer.
The battle was about to begin.
Shanks made the first move. He pushed off with his feet, his body launching forward like an arrow. The cutlass in his hand traced a perfect, clean arc as he aimed a powerful cleave straight at Buggy's midsection. Every motion echoed the broad, straightforward, and courageous style of his captain; while still unrefined, the foundation was already there.
"Too naive!" Buggy sneered, choosing not to meet the attack head-on. He dropped into a low crouch and slid sideways at a tricky angle, the powerful slash missing him by a hair's breadth. At the same time, the dagger in his hand shot out like a snake's tongue, thrusting back towards Shanks's sword-wielding wrist.
Clang!
Shanks reacted with incredible speed, flipping his wrist and slapping the flat of his blade against the incoming dagger, precisely blocking the insidious attack. Missing their strikes, the two quickly separated, eyeing each other for the next opening. The crew roared with approval; the skill displayed in that single exchange had already far exceeded their expectations.
"Whoa, that Buggy kid is seriously agile!"
"Shanks's swordsmanship is looking more and more like the real deal!"
In the arena, the fight grew fiercer. Shanks's offense was like a relentless tide. His swordplay was simple, but each strike was heavy and powerful, designed to overwhelm his opponent. Buggy, on the other hand, was like a slippery fish, always managing to avoid a direct clash at the last second, constantly probing for an opening with his nimble daggers. His fighting style was ruthlessly practical and efficient.
During one exchange, Buggy deliberately left what looked like an opening, baiting Shanks into committing to a full-power cleave. Just as the blade was about to hit him, Buggy suddenly kicked up a cloud of dust from the deck, momentarily blinding Shanks.
"You coward!" Shanks cursed, instinctively closing his eyes and turning his head.
That was the moment Buggy was waiting for. A glint of triumph flashed in his eyes. He lunged forward, his two daggers crossed like a pair of scissors, aiming to lock them around Shanks's neck. 'It's over! That allowance is mine!' he thought gleefully.
However, Shanks did something completely unexpected. He didn't retreat. Relying purely on muscle memory, he took a sudden step forward, dropped his center of gravity, and slammed his shoulder hard into Buggy's chest.
Thud!
It was a powerful, reckless blow—a tactic designed to break the attack at the cost of his own balance. Buggy was knocked back several steps, his chokehold attack completely broken.
"You idiot!" Buggy cursed, rubbing his aching chest.
"It's not over yet!" Shanks yelled, steadying himself. His eyes burned with an unyielding fire. He took a deep breath and settled into a stance that was remarkably similar to one Roger often used before delivering a finishing blow. Seeing this, Roger's laughter grew even louder. "Kuhahaha! Look at that! He's got my style down!"
Buggy's expression became serious. This was it—the final strike. He bent his knees slightly, holding his daggers horizontally across his chest as he focused all his attention on his opponent.
"Hooah—!"
With a powerful roar, Shanks poured all of his conviction and strength into a single, decisive slash. Buggy crossed his two daggers in front of him, concentrating all his strength at that single point, ready to meet the ultimate blow.
CLANG—!!!
The cutlass and daggers clashed violently, erupting in a shower of dazzling sparks. The stalemate lasted for only a second. Buggy felt a tremendous, irresistible force travel up his arms, splitting the skin in the web of his thumbs. His daggers were bent backward by the immense power, and finally, his defense was torn wide open. Shanks's cutlass continued its path, stopping just an inch from Buggy's nose. The sharp wind from the blade ruffled his blue hair.
The match was decided.
The deck was silent for a moment before erupting in thunderous cheers.
"He won! Shanks won!"
"Well done, kid!"
Buggy stared blankly at the sword tip hovering before his eyes, then looked down at his trembling, bleeding hands. He let out a reluctant "Tch!" and plopped down on the deck, defeated. But there wasn't dejection in his eyes, just pure annoyance. "Darn it," he muttered. "I was so close."
Shanks withdrew his sword, gasping for breath, his face flushed with the joy of victory.
Leaning against the mast, Kyle watched the two small figures in the arena, the corner of his mouth curving into a genuine, proud smile. They were both improving so fast. The harsh training he'd put them through, the same suffering he had once endured, hadn't been for nothing. He had pushed them, and they had risen to the challenge. Seeing them grow from sniveling kids into proper fighters gave him a strange sense of satisfaction.
"Kuhahaha! Well done! You two were both splendid!" Roger laughed as he walked over, effortlessly lifting both Shanks and Buggy into the air, one in each hand.
"Hey, Captain! Let me go! I lost, dammit!" Buggy protested stubbornly.
"You both fought a great battle," Rayleigh said with a smile, his eyes full of gratification as he approached.
The rest of the crew swarmed them, cheering and clapping them on the back.
"Let's celebrate!" Jabba shouted. "Our ship has two more qualified pirates today!"
In the next second, Shanks and Buggy were tossed high into the air by the excited crew.
"Wah-ah-ah-ah—!"
"Put me down! I'm afraid of heights!"
Under the clear blue sky, the figures of the two boys rose and fell amidst the hearty laughter of the world's most legendary pirates. Kyle watched the scene, smiling and shaking his head, as he drained the last sip of orange juice from his cup.
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