"Jozu, it's time to teach Satan Armament Haki."
On the Moby Dick's deck, Marco walked up to Jozu.
"Hm? Shouldn't you be teaching that kid Observation Haki? Marco, are you slacking off?"
"I wish I were slacking." Marco looked thoroughly depressed, dealt a heavy blow. Teaching others should have been enjoyable. In front of Satan, there was no joy—only a crushing sense of defeat.
"That's not like you. What happened?" Jozu frowned, puzzled.
"Do you believe there are true prodigies in this world?" Marco stared at him.
"A prodigy?" Jozu blinked, not catching Marco's meaning.
"Am I a prodigy? Next to Satan's talent, I'm nothing."
Marco let out a bitter laugh. Once, he'd been called a genius. In front of Satan, calling himself that felt like an insult to the word.
"So what exactly happened?" Jozu was getting exasperated. Marco's dazed, brooding mood was driving him up the wall.
"Tell me, how long did it take you to learn Observation Haki?" Marco drew a slow breath to steady himself.
"You know I'm not good at Observation. About half a year," Jozu answered honestly. "A true talent might learn it in a month."
"'A true talent,' huh? Want to guess how long it took Satan? Compared to him, I'm nothing."
Jozu froze. "Don't tell me he's already learned Observation Haki."
Marco nodded. He could hardly believe it himself, but the facts were there.
"My god. Pops learned Observation in a day back then. Is this kid even faster? Is his knack for Observation above Pops'? He can't already use Observation, can he?"
"I'll stake my name on it—he didn't know Observation Haki before," Marco said solemnly. If Satan had already studied it, Marco wouldn't be this shocked. It was obvious Satan had never touched Haki. That was why he'd lost his composure. Satan's talent was beyond anything he'd imagined.
"So how long did it take him to learn, from your demonstration?" Jozu asked, stunned at last. He finally understood why Marco was so rattled. He'd been crushed.
"Guess." Marco raised one finger.
"One day? No, if it were a day you wouldn't be coming to me. An hour?" Jozu's voice trembled.
Marco still shook his head.
"It can't be a minute. You wouldn't even have time to explain. Did you teach it once, and he got it?" Jozu was reeling. If Satan learned it after a single lesson, wouldn't that mean his talent for Observation exceeded Pops'?
"Wrong. I didn't even teach it once. He grasped it in the middle of our spar."
Marco's smile was bitter. It was too demoralizing. Being around Satan was nothing but a blow to the ego.
"Not even one lesson, and he figured it out mid-fight?" Jozu blurted, disbelief carrying his voice across the deck and drawing the crew's attention.
"What's going on?" Vista walked over to ask.
"Satan," Marco said. "He only watched me use Observation Haki and understood it. With that kind of terrifying talent, compared to him I'm trash."
Marco was as dejected as he'd ever been. There was no sense of accomplishment in teaching—only endless humiliation.
"He learned Observation Haki just by watching you use it?" Vista was dumbstruck. What a monstrous aptitude. The Whitebeard Pirates had countless strong fighters, but they'd never seen talent like this. Not even Pops had done that.
"Maybe he's simply a prodigy in Observation Haki," Jozu said, calming down. "Yes, that must be it—an innate feel for Observation. Come on. Next I'll teach him Armament Haki. I want to see just how absurd his talent really is."
Even though Marco kept calling Satan a monster whose aptitude defied heaven, Jozu still didn't quite believe it. Some people were born gifted in certain Haki, like those with Conqueror's. Observation could be like that too—Satan might just have exceptional sensitivity to it, letting him grasp it at first contact.
But Armament Haki? There was no way he could learn that instantly… right?