The sun was blazing.
Skies were clear.
Splash—!
The sea rolled in gentle layers, the breeze pushing across the surface, raising rings of ripples that spread outward like silver flowers on the water.
For the Grand Line, the weather was strangely well-behaved.
Normally, this sea was fickle — currents reversed for no reason, clouds formed out of nowhere, even veteran navigators could misjudge a sudden change.
But ever since this Marine warship had left the East Blue — left Foosha Village, left Loguetown, left Flowstream (Chuanliu) Island — it hadn't run into anything truly nasty.
A few heavy rains.
A scattered squall.
But no bizarre reverse currents, no air pressure traps, no windless sudden stalls.
Part of it was luck.
Part of it was the navigator — every time the sky, clouds, or current looked even slightly wrong, the order came instantly:
"Turn. Go around it."
That added time to the voyage…
…but it kept the ship safe.
And on this ship…
there was someone too valuable to risk.
On the deck.
Kai was already drenched in sweat.
A solid 500 kilograms of weighted stone and iron was strapped to his back and shoulders.
He was four years old.
His upper body was bare — every inch of muscle line clear, tight, and coiled.
On his back, the Ghost Back pattern crawled like a living brand — fierce, domineering, full of pressure.
Blue veins stood out like centipedes across his arms and shoulders.
Sweat ran off him in sheets.
Drip.
Drip.
In moments, the deck beneath him was soaked — a spreading patch of proof that this four-year-old was working harder than full-grown men.
"Two thousand nine hundred ninety-seven…"
"Two thousand nine hundred ninety-eight…"
His lips moved softly, counting every rep.
Eyes half-closed, sweat streaming down his forehead, he angled his head so it didn't run into his eyes.
Every push-up…
made the muscles across his back and chest flare.
Muscles rose and fell like restrained volcanoes.
Every piece of him said:
This is a body built to explode.
Even at only four…
just looking at him gave people a powerful illusion —
This kid could punch through a wall.
This kid could break a pirate captain in half.
This kid… was not normal.
By the rail, Aokiji (Kuzan) stood with his hands on the wooden guard, letting the cold sea wind hit his face, watching Kai train.
He clicked his tongue quietly.
He'd watched the kid for days now.
Morning → Kai was training.
Noon → Kai was training.
Late night → Kai was still training.
The first day Kuzan thought, "Okay, he's motivated."
By the third day he thought, "No, this is a maniac."
By the fifth day he thought, "…this is a training demon."
"I've never seen anyone work like this…"
"Let alone a four-year-old."
He had to admit it.
He, Kuzan — the future Admiral — could not have done this at four.
He couldn't even have done this at twenty.
He watched Kai finish each push, iron weight on his back, Ghost Back writhing like some ancient totem, and… he sincerely admired him.
Lazy as he was…
Kuzan didn't look down on effort.
And Kai…
was the most terrifying combination:
Heaven-defying talent + insane work ethic.
"Competition's brutal these days…" Kuzan muttered to himself.
"Good thing I joined the Marines early."
"If I'd grown up in his generation, this kid would've ground me into the deck."
He suddenly felt a bit sorry for the new era.
"Those future monsters… poor kids."
"It's bad enough to meet one genius."
"But to meet a genius who's also more hardworking than you?"
"How are you supposed to chase that?"
In his mind…
he could already see Marineford's training camp five, six years from now:
A bunch of hot-blooded rookies.
Then Kai walks in.
And the entire camp just… breaks.
"Yeah."
"They're all gonna be dragged by this kid."
"Zéphyr-sensei is gonna love him to death."
"Three thousand!"
With a final push, Kai straightened his arms, then let himself drop sideways onto the deck.
He lay there, gasping slightly, sweat pouring off him like rain.
The wood under him was cool.
The muscles in his arms and back burned.
He closed his eyes for a second — enjoying that bone-deep fatigue that only came after squeezing everything out of his body.
A second later…
the system chimed in his head.
[This training session has yielded: Strength +0.001, Speed +0.0007, Stamina +0.001]
[After amplification by x100…]
[Host gains: Strength +0.1, Speed +0.07, Stamina +0.1]
Boom—
A warm current spread through his body — washing through organs, bones, nerves.
When it passed…
he felt lighter.
Stronger.
Clearer.
Not a huge jump.
But he knew —
a hundred tiny jumps → a mountain.
He slowly sat up.
The sea breeze hit his wet skin; it felt good.
His fingers curled into fists — strength surged in them.
"This kind of self-training is starting to plateau…"
"I need Headquarters."
"I need Marineford's special training systems."
"Only then can my growth stay at full speed."
He looked toward the horizon.
Marineford wasn't far now.
Just a few more days…
and he'd be at the center of Marine power.
"System. Show status."
A translucent panel appeared in front of him.
[Host: Monkey D. Kai]
[Strength: 32.1 (+1.9)]
[Speed: 26.1 (+1.2)]
[Stamina: 33.3 (+2.0)]
[Mental Power: 16.2 (+0.9)]
[Ghost Back Completion: 11.48%]
[Current Cultivation Multiplier: x100]
(Compared to when they left Loguetown, every stat had gone up. The Ghost Back, especially — from just past 11% to 11.48% — was climbing steadily.)
Kai nodded, satisfied.
Then—
Brru—brru—!
The sound of a Den Den Mushi rang out nearby.
Kai's brows lifted.
He turned.
Kuzan was already reaching into his coat, pulling out his personal Den Den Mushi.
Kuzan frowned a little.
He was already on his way back to Marineford — so who was calling now?
He didn't walk away.
He just leaned on the rail and answered.
"I'm Kuzan."
On the other end…
a deep, steady, familiar voice spoke at once.
"Kuzan, you may have to delay your return to Marineford."
Kai's eyes flickered.
That voice…
Fleet Admiral Steel Bone Kong.
Kuzan straightened a fraction.
"Headquarters received a direct order from the World Government just now," Kong said, tone serious.
"They want us to dispatch a strong combatant immediately."
"There's a situation."
"A high-priority emergency rescue mission."
The deck suddenly felt a little colder.
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