Time flew by. Days turned to nights, and before Orion knew it, six months had passed.
But in all that time, he hadn't learned a single damn thing.
Because right now, Orion Cross wasn't some grand hero, or a skilled fighter — he was just a grunt in the Navy.
Worse — not even a real soldier. Just a cook, a glorified errand boy who chopped wood and hauled water all day. He wasn't even allowed to join regular training.
After six months of swallowing his pride, today he'd finally had enough.
Why? Because he had finally managed to grasp the second ability of the Rine Rine no Mi. He finally had some real power.
And hell, if he was a Devil Fruit user, what was he doing cooking soup for these idiots?
Before, he had no choice but to act humble and hide his strength.
But now?
Now it was time for a change.
"Hey, Orion! Where are you going?" an old cook called out kindly. "If you don't finish your chores, they'll chew you out again."
Orion gave the old man a small, grateful smile.
"Don't worry, old-timer. I won't be coming back here. Thanks for looking out for me these past six months."
Without another word, he turned and headed toward the Navy's main training grounds.
"Hey! Stop right there!" a guard barked as Orion stepped onto the training field. "You think a kitchen boy like you belongs here?"
"I'm here to take part in the Seaman Trials," Orion said calmly.
The guard blinked, then burst out laughing. "You? A cook? Trying to be a first-class Seaman? Hahahaha! Don't make me laugh — you're not even a recruit yet!"
Orion didn't respond. He simply lifted his hand —
Woosh!
— and the next thing the guard knew, he was yanked forward by an unseen force, Orion's hand wrapped around his throat.
"Had your laugh yet?" Orion asked quietly, expression cold and unreadable.
"D–Devil Fruit... you're a Devil Fruit user!" the soldier croaked in disbelief.
"Hmph. Pathetic. You're only strong when picking on the weak, huh?"
Thud!
Orion tossed him aside like trash. In this world — especially in the Navy — power ruled. Whoever had the stronger fist, ruled the room. Six months of servitude had taught Orion that well.
Minutes later, Orion arrived at the training grounds. The plaza was crowded with recruits, the air thick with tension. On the central platform, a massive, muscular man was roaring with laughter.
"Anyone else? Come on! If no one's got the guts, this Seaman first class position is mine!" he bellowed.
The crowd murmured nervously. The Seaman first class rank wasn't much — about the same as a squad leader — but for fresh recruits, it meant power, status, and a chance to climb the ladder.
Orion stepped forward.
Whoosh!
In a blink, he was on the platform.
Six months of silent training had toughened his body far beyond what it once was. The Rine Rine no Mi had honed him, tempered his strength, and given him an edge no ordinary soldier could match.
This was his moment. The Seaman selection only happened twice a year — miss it, and you'd have to earn promotion through combat merit instead. He couldn't afford to wait.
Seaman first class was just the beginning.
"Trying to act cool, huh?" the big man sneered when Orion landed in front of him. "Who the hell are you anyway?"
The recruits below started whispering.
"Wait, isn't that the cook from the mess hall?"
"No way — did he lose his mind or something?"
"Look at him! He's just a kid!"
They weren't wrong — Orion looked about ten or eleven years old, lean but wiry, while his opponent looked like a mountain of muscle.
"Kid," the big man growled, cracking his knuckles, "walk away now, and I'll pretend this never happened. Stay, and don't blame me if I accidentally kill you."
Orion rolled his eyes. "You talk too much. Get off the stage."
He raised a hand.
"Repulsion Field."
The air shimmered — and then exploded outward.
BOOM!
A powerful repulsive wave blasted out from Orion, throwing the big man off his feet and sending him crashing to the ground below.
The crowd fell silent.
"Wh–what the...!"
"He took him out in one move!"
"He's... a Devil Fruit user!"
The fallen man stared up at Orion, face pale. "Damn it! A Devil Fruit user?!"
From the judges' stand, an officer smirked. "Interesting. Looks like we've found ourselves a little treasure."
Another, an elderly man wearing a captain's insignia, chuckled. "A young Devil Fruit user, eh? Promising! Very promising!"
The recruits below erupted into chatter.
"He's so strong!"
"Did you see that? One attack!"
"No wonder—Devil Fruit users are monsters!"
Even the referee took a moment to recover before announcing, "The winner is... this young man! From this moment forward, Orion Cross is officially promoted to Seaman first class of the Seventh Recruit Unit!"
The crowd gasped.
"A cook... just became an officer?"
"What a dark horse..."
"Unbelievable..."
Orion ignored the whispers. He'd done it. This was the first step — his first real foothold in the Navy.
From here, he could start accumulating military merit.
But that wasn't his true goal.
What he really wanted was to learn the Navy's Six Styles — the famed Rokushiki techniques. Practical, powerful, and stylish. If he was in the Navy, he wasn't leaving without mastering them.
He glanced around at the recruits, all between ten and fifteen years old, and a small grin tugged at his lips.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Let's see what the future holds for Seaman Orion Cross."
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