The next day, Karl reported to Zeff right on time.
In name, it was "instruction."
In reality—he was getting private coaching.
After missing an entire week of training, Karl had fallen behind somewhat in the Marines' Six Styles. That said, the only technique he still hadn't mastered was Moonwalk. With Shave and a strong physique as a foundation, stepping on air was really just a matter of getting the hang of it—left foot stepping on the right foot, again and again.
What Karl truly lacked were the finer tricks of the Six Styles and real combat applications.
And when it came to close-quarters combat—
Zeff was unquestionably a top-tier instructor.
"I've already explained all the techniques you need," Zeff said calmly.
"But no amount of talking beats an actual fight."
"I'll be your sparring partner next. Use everything you have and attack me with all you've got."
Karl nodded, assumed his stance, and moved instantly.
A Finger Pistol shot out first.
Then came a flashy double kick from above—Thunder Nine Heavens… which was really just Tempest Kick.
Immediately after, Karl used Shave to close the distance and swung a punch straight toward Zeff's jaw.
A flurry of moves.
Very fierce-looking.
Actual damage dealt?
About 250.
Zeff expressionlessly blocked every attack and casually subdued Karl in one motion.
"Your movements are too exaggerated," Zeff criticized.
"You're basically telling the enemy where you're going to strike."
"And Tempest Kick isn't used like that. Treat your leg like a whip. Snap it—that's how you maximize power."
...
Long story short—
Zeff showed zero mercy while teaching.
He corrected Karl ruthlessly, one mistake after another. By the end of this brutal "special training," Karl's combat skills had improved by leaps and bounds.
Aside from Moonwalk, the rest of the Six Styles were now fully integrated into his fighting style.
"That's enough for today," Zeff finally said.
"We'll continue tomorrow. Once your physique improves a bit more, I'll teach you Moonwalk."
Covered in dust and breathing lightly, Karl slapped a burst of Holy Light onto himself, easing the exhaustion from the high-intensity sparring.
"Phew… Instructor Zeff," Karl asked,
"when will I awaken Haki?"
Zeff frowned, almost ready to scold him for wanting to run before he could walk—but then remembered Karl wasn't exactly normal.
After thinking it over, he replied:
"Karl, don't rush Haki. Once you fully master the Six Styles, I'll personally put you through special Haki training."
"Really?!"
Karl's eyes lit up.
"That's great! Thank you, Instructor Zeff! Then I'll head back now!"
Zeff glanced at the time.
Good. Still less than an hour before lunch.
Training camp life was monotonous.
Its only themes were effort, struggle, and sweat.
Days passed like this.
In the blink of an eye, it was Day 60—
the prelude to the end of the recruits' training camp.
Today was the day to assess everyone's growth.
Otherwise known as—
The Recruit Tournament.
Sixty days in, Karl had completed his transformation—from background fodder into a true Marine elite, standing head and shoulders above the rest of the trainees.
Even Ain and Binz couldn't hope to catch up.
Karl had long since completed Phase Two of "Training Camp Turmoil."
Ten Advanced Attribute Enhancement Cards were easily claimed, along with the skill he'd been looking forward to most:
[Swift as a Rabbit].
Without using the advanced cards yet, Karl's current stats were:
Host: Karl
Age: 24
Physique: C
Perception: D
Willpower: D-
Special Abilities:
Still as a Maiden
Swift as a Rabbit
Holy Light Fruit: 5.8% (Awakening Progress)
Active Skill:
Fragile as Paper (Available)
From these stats, Karl's attribute strategy was obvious.
Physique first.
Perception second.
Willpower? Basically ignored.
Because Karl had discovered something—
As his strength increased, his Willpower naturally rose as well. There was no need to waste precious enhancement cards on it.
The reason was simple:
Physique affected strength, speed, stamina, recovery… basically everything.
Perception affected reaction speed and thinking.
These two attributes had the biggest impact on Karl's combat strength.
As for Willpower…
The system's explanation was complicated—something about spirit, pressure, presence, and other vague nonsense.
The only important note was this:
👉 Once Willpower reaches S-rank, Conqueror's Haki awakens automatically.
"Riiiing—Riiiing—"
"Karl! Wake up! Aren't you testing today? Stop sleeping in!"
Monica, wearing a white spaghetti-strap nightdress, shook Karl hard by the shoulders.
He cracked open one sleepy eye, yawned, and mumbled:
"Mmm… yeah… got it…"
"—SHIT!"
Karl jolted upright, sprang out of bed, threw on his uniform, washed up at lightning speed, kissed Monica goodbye, and sprinted off.
He wolfed down breakfast before rushing to the training grounds.
"Phew—just made it! If I'd been late, Instructor Zeff would've torn me in half…"
"Morning, Big Brother Karl!"
"Morning!"
After a brief chat with Ain, Zeff strode to the center of the field. His deep, commanding voice rang out:
"Recruits! Assemble!"
"Count off!"
"1! 2! 3! …"
Everyone present.
Zeff, wearing a purple suit and draped in his Justice coat, scanned the ranks and spoke:
"Relax. Today is just a test of what you've gained over the past two months."
"I've seen your hard work. I've seen every drop of sweat you shed."
"To be honest—I'm very satisfied."
"You did not betray your own efforts."
"You are all outstanding Marines."
"So today—show me the results of your dedication!"
"OOOOH!!!"
The recruits roared with passion.
Not wanting to stand out, Karl joined in with a few cheers of his own.
Under Instructor Shuzo's guidance, the recruits began warming up for the upcoming tournament.
Everyone knew—
Today was their best opportunity.
Zeff had already said it:
Each year's Recruit Tournament attracted officers of Rear Admiral rank and above. Anyone could be chosen to become a subordinate.
If you caught the eye of a high-ranking Vice Admiral—or even an Admiral—
Not only would your résumé skyrocket, you'd gain access to massive combat achievements, earning the attention of Marine high command and skyrocketing up the ranks.
The Marines weren't just about justice and fighting.
They were also about connections.
It might sound utilitarian—but that was reality.
Ten years in the Marines had taught Karl that much.
Before befriending Brigadier General Charles, it had taken Karl seven years just to become a sergeant.
After gaining Charles's favor?
One promotion per year—straight to Captain.
And that pink-haired traitor Koby?
Two years to jump straight to Colonel.
Strip away the strength factor—
Karl refused to believe Garp hadn't pulled strings behind the scenes.
Even Karl himself was no exception.
Because of his Devil Fruit, he'd gained the attention of the Fleet Admiral, an Admiral, and the Marine with the strongest connections of all—Zeff.
Admiral rank?
No longer just a dream.
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