"Winner of the first match... Kuzan!!"
Zephyr, arms crossed at the edge of the training ground, announced loudly.
There had been no suspense at all.
Kuzan, who drew number 1, faced off against Gion—but as Onigumo had said before, without Armament Haki, no one stood a chance against a Logia-type like him.
The innate advantage of a Logia Devil Fruit at early stages was unquestionable. Just the passive ability to turn into an element made the user nearly untouchable.
Even Gion, the strongest swordswoman in this year's training camp, couldn't do a thing.
And that's not even counting Kuzan's base strength, which already far surpassed hers.
It was over in less than a minute.
Her feet frozen solid, the duel ended.
The crowd wasn't particularly surprised—but they were still shaken by Kuzan's sheer power.
And with that, Kuzan advanced to the finals.
"Next match: Darren versus Tokikake!"
All eyes turned to the two remaining fighters—one calm and relaxed, the other...
Zephyr's brow twitched as black lines practically floated over his head.
There stood Tokikake, looking like a man walking to the gallows. His hairy legs were trembling so hard they looked like they'd snap.
"What's wrong, Commander Tokikake? Not coming up?"
Darren stepped into the ring, rolling his neck until it cracked like popping beans. He smiled, amused.
"I'm standing right here, you know. The perfect chance to 'Beat that bastard Darren.'"
Tokikake felt the sweat flood down his back at that.
Darren's grin was... monstrous.
He quickly averted his eyes and looked to Zephyr like a panicked child asking for a bathroom break.
"Uhh... Zephyr-sensei, I think I'm sick. I feel... awful."
He clutched his chest and made a pained face.
Zephyr's lips twitched. He almost rolled his eyes.
'This punk thinks my Observation Haki doesn't work, huh?'
"You're sure you're unwell?"
Tokikake lit up. "Yes! Definitely! I've come down with a serious condition—I call it Can't-Fight-Disease!"
Zephyr nodded thoughtfully.
Then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, he calmly walked over to a training cannon.
"How about now? Feeling any better?"
"Actually, I'm cured!! I feel great now, Zephyr-sensei!!"
In a flash, Tokikake scrambled into the field—legs still shaking, glancing back every few steps like he was about to be shot in the back.
Zephyr shook his head with a sigh.
Truth was, forfeiting was allowed. But Tokikake was way too slippery. As his instructor, Zephyr had to guide him properly.
He needed... polishing.
(Not that Zephyr would ever admit he also really wanted to see him get pummeled.)
"D-Darren, y-you ready for this?" Tokikake called out from a good ten meters away, trying his best to look cocky while his knees wobbled.
"Go get him, Tokikake!! Didn't you just tell me earlier that you could easily beat Darren down if you tried?!"
Kuzan yelled, eyes sparkling, pumping his fists.
'Bro, I whispered that!! Whispered!! That was clearly a lie! A bluff! You're supposed to take that to your grave!!'
His face twisted in horror.
But Kuzan just doubled down, eyes burning with admiration.
"I get it! You're just being humble! That's so cool, Tokikake! Get in there and flatten Darren!!"
He gave a giant thumbs-up.
"Didn't you say you'd be waiting at the top for us?! GO!"
Tokikake wanted to crawl underground and die.
He turned to Darren to explain—"I didn't mean it, he's making stuff up, please don't kill me"—
A fist filled his vision.
The punch shattered his teeth and echoed like thunder.
His scream was like a pig being butchered.
Everyone could feel that pain in their own bones.
Thirty seconds later.
The training ground was a disaster zone.
Dust clouds billowed across the ruined field, which now resembled the aftermath of a bombing. Craters everywhere.
Darren stepped out of the dust, stretching his arms like a man waking from a good nap. He looked very satisfied.
At the center of a deep crater, Tokikake lay flat on his back.
His face was swollen like a balloon. His pupils were unfocused. His legs twitched every now and then.
Two shattered wooden sandals were stabbed into the ground beside him like makeshift gravestones.
The other Marines just... stared.
Blank expressions. Twitching eyes.
Zephyr sighed heavily and facepalmed.
He shook his head and declared the result.
"Next up: the match for third place, Gion versus Tokikake."
He glanced at the man still twitching in a crater.
"Given that Tokikake is in no condition to—"
A ragged, hoarse voice suddenly rose from the dust.
Everyone turned, wide-eyed.
Tokikake was trying to stand.
He groaned and wobbled to his feet—missing half a front tooth, face mangled, but his gaze steady.
"I'm fighting this match."
Blood trickled down his arms. His body was a wreck.
But something in his eyes...
Even Kuzan got choked up, biting his knuckle.
"What a man... He's already half-dead, but he still won't back down..."
Even Zephyr looked a little taken aback.
"You sure? You're in no shape to fight."
Yes, Darren had held back.
But the damage wasn't fake.
Tokikake nodded hard.
"I'm sure, Zephyr-sensei."
Maybe he misjudged this kid.
"This is my chance for close contact with Gion—uh, I mean sparring!!"
Zephyr almost coughed up blood.
"Fine. Whatever. Fight then."
Tokikake was being wheeled away on a stretcher.
According to the medics.
He looked delirious, eyes glassy, whispering:
"I almost... touched Gion's hand..."
The entire training camp's collective worldview shattered.
Zephyr lit a cigar in despair.
"We now begin the final match!"
"Kuzan versus Darren—this duel will decide the top cadet of the Elite Officer Training Camp!"