The freshmen, full of youthful vigor, were provoked into blushing red even though they knew it was Zephyr's provocation, and immediately roared:
"In no mood!"
Hundreds of freshmen spoke in unison, their voices deafening and their presence overwhelming.
Zephyr originally thought that he could use this to scare Damon and make him back down.
But when he glanced at Damon out of the corner of his eye, he didn't see any panic on his face. Instead, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and his eyes flashed with a fierce fighting spirit, clearly ready to make a move.
"This kid, how come his personality is just like Garp's? Is he really not Garp's illegitimate son?"
Zephyr muttered to himself, his gaze sweeping over the group of freshmen.
Those who failed to complete the 42-kilometer run were immediately filtered out.
Smoker had eaten the Smoke-Smoke Fruit, gaining the ability to transform into smoke, making him the strongest among the students, and thus not even considered by Zephyr.
Zephyr could imagine that if he chose Smoker as Damon's opponent, Garp would come and demolish the Naval Academy tomorrow.
Tina was a girl, so it wasn't suitable.
Dadi Mastasson had a carefree attitude, so he might slack off.
Jonathan was still spacing out at this moment—what was he thinking about?
Finally, Zephyr fixed his gaze on Drake.
This kid, with his arrogant attitude, was clearly the kind of troublemaker.
If Damon won, he would help Zephyr teach Drake a lesson.
If Drake won, his strength—ranked among the top trainees but not overwhelmingly strong—would be perfect for refusing Garp's request.
No matter what, Zephyr wins.
What a plan.
"Drake, step forward!"
At Zephyr's command, Drake stepped out of the line with an excited expression.
Drake had orange hair, blue eyes, a hooked nose, thin lips, and an X-shaped scar on his chin. He was tall and slender, toying with a small knife in his hand. His brows furrowed with arrogance as he stared at Damon, a slightly cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Kid, I don't care what kind of background you have, because I hate guys like you with connections the most."
"So here's a piece of advice: surrender now. Otherwise, when I beat you to the ground, you'll have nowhere to cry."
Damon's expression was cold and stern. Without saying a word, he simply raised his middle finger at Drake.
A thousand words could not compare to the destructive power of a single middle finger.
Drake's face darkened, and he suddenly lunged forward, the small knife in his hand aimed straight at the face he loathed.
Damon's five slender fingers were already on the hilt of the sword at his waist, and he suddenly drew it.
"Clang!"
The blades clashed, sparks flying.
Damon's blade had a cold, sharp edge; it wasn't one of Dadan's family's knives.
Last time, when Damon infused flames into the blade, it couldn't withstand the strain of battle and cracked afterward. Now, this sword was a standard naval weapon, forged through repeated tempering, strong enough to endure such force.
"Is this all the strength you've got?"
Damon suddenly exerted force through his arm, transmitting power through the blade to Drake's hand. Drake's grip faltered, his hand went numb, and the knife slipped free, spinning in the air before landing on the ground with a sharp clink.
"What strength!"
Drake was secretly shocked.
Although he had been somewhat careless just now, he never expected the boy in front of him to possess such overwhelming strength—far beyond that of many adult men.
The Six Treasures Immortal Thief technique allowed Damon to extract large amounts of vital energy as long as he consumed enough nutritious food, enhancing his physical condition.
The world here was completely different from his previous life; the food contained far more nutrients.
Especially when the warship passed through the Calm Belt, Garp hunted several Sea Kings for Damon. The nutrients in their flesh were beyond imagination. Damon continuously strengthened his body through food, which led to his current power.
After being disarmed with a single strike, Drake felt the strange looks from his companions. Those gazes were like sharp blades piercing his heart, filling him with shame and anger.
Drake immediately drew a standard naval longsword from his waist and shouted coldly:
"You brat, a weakling like you should act like one. Why don't you go home obediently?"
This time, Drake abandoned his contempt and attacked fiercely with both hands, as if trying to cut Damon in half.
Damon knew that although his strength surpassed many ordinary adults, he was still inferior to a top trainee like Drake. He chose to avoid the attack and continued dodging around him.
Looking up, Damon met Drake's fierce gaze and said calmly:
"Drake, you're wrong!"
"The weak have no rights and no choice."
"Therefore, we must become strong and use that strength to protect the weak!"
⸻
"The weak have no rights and no choice."
"Therefore, we must become strong and use that strength to protect the weak!"
The slightly immature voice echoed across the training ground.
Smoker and the other freshmen, still young, did not take those words to heart and instead focused on the agile figure before them.
Despite the huge gap in age, height, and strength, Damon continuously played to his strengths and avoided his weaknesses, forcing Drake to chase him in frustration.
Only Sengoku, Garp, and Zephyr narrowed their eyes upon hearing those words.
Garp looked at Damon, whose face bore a striking resemblance to his own, and thought:
Damon… is this the justice you seek?
Zephyr crossed his arms, and the coldness in his expression eased slightly.
Zephyr had always been straightforward and rigid. Even though he agreed to the challenge out of respect for Sengoku and Garp, he still held prejudice against Damon.
But after hearing those words, his impression improved.
Sensing the shift in their attitudes, a faint smile appeared on Damon's lips.
He understood very well that the world was sick.
The Celestial Dragons lived above all, indulging in luxury while disregarding the lives of ordinary people.
Ambitious Marines wanted change but lacked the power to oppose the World Government, becoming its unwilling accomplices.
Ordinary people either endured exploitation or risked everything to become pirates.
To survive in such a world was already difficult. To change it required using every available resource.
Damon chose the Marines not only for safety, but also to gather strength under the banner of justice.
After all, disguise was an art.
And his current appearance made deception far easier.
Not to mention—
"Ding!"
"Congratulations, host, for reciting a classic line from Demon Slayer. You have been awarded one chance to draw a prize. Would you like to start the prize wheel?"
This was his true goal.
Damon flipped backward, narrowly avoiding Drake's blade.
Drake slammed his sword into the ground, his face dark as he growled:
"You brat, is running all you can do?"
"You said you'd defeat me—so come on!"
Damon stood up, brushed off the dust, and casually resumed evading him.
After this exchange, Damon fully realized how valuable Garp's training had been.
Garp hadn't taught techniques—only one principle:
Play to your strengths. Avoid your weaknesses.
Simple words, yet difficult to master.
Drake's movements were structured, but predictable—standard forms without personal adaptation.
As Drake raised his arm, Damon already knew what was coming.
A downward slash.
A horizontal cut.
Naval swordsmanship emphasized practicality—no unnecessary flair.
On the battlefield, survival depended on efficiency.
Damon glanced at the prize wheel during a brief opening.
Three categories appeared:
Summoned Characters: Kibutsuji Muzan, Suzamaru, Hand Demon…
Blood Demon Arts: Blood Bewitchment, Line Prison…
Breathing Techniques: Sun Breathing, Water Breathing, Flame Breathing…
He dodged another strike and appeared behind Drake.
At that moment, the pointer stopped.
[Flame Breathing]
A fundamental breathing style derived from Sun Breathing. It enhanced lung capacity and, in combat, allowed the body to absorb large amounts of oxygen in a short time, greatly increasing physical performance.
A faint stream of white breath escaped Damon's nose.
He gripped his sword tightly.
Memories surged—the flames of that past inferno, the suffocating heat.
His blood surged.
Power rose.
At the same time, to the shock of Sengoku, Garp, and Zephyr—
A spark ignited at the tip of Damon's blade.
Then it spread.
Flames engulfed the sword, turning it into a blazing weapon.
When Drake felt the heat behind him, he instantly realized—something was wrong.