At The Peak of One Piece

Fresh off enjoying Victor's feast the day before, Smoker found himself cornered. He reluctantly regurgitated everything Instructor Zephyr had taught. 

Tekkai (Iron Body): "Unshakeable belief in yourself. Summon that power, and no attack can breach you." 

Soru (Shave): "Stomp the ground over a dozen times within 0.36 seconds. The rebound force grants instant movement." 

Kami-e (Paper Art): "Mind guides body. Feel the space. Relax. Sense air currents. React to threats in a flash." 

Shigan (Finger Pistol): "Believe your finger can pierce any barrier. Shatter all doubt." 

Geppo (Moon Walk): "Advanced Shave. Kick the 'air' faster. Rebound lets you walk the sky." 

Rankyaku (Storm Leg): "Kick swift enough to split the air. Guide the following wind into a blade that cuts your target." 

"That's Zephyr-sensei's core explanation," Smoker finished. "You won't master it just by hearing it. Wait for Elite Camp." He doubted Victor could self-learn. 

"Just that? Feels doable," Victor shrugged. "Soru and Geppo? If you're fast enough and know the trick, shouldn't it click?" 

He needed to legitimize his existing mastery. 

Victor vanished. He reappeared around Smoker in blinding bursts of Shave, deliberately holding back his true speed but still moving impossibly fast. He stopped before Smoker, expression unchanged, not a bead of sweat. 

"Well? Passable?" Victor smirked. 

Smoker gaped. "Are you human?! Or did you learn this on Garp's ship and just mess with me?" 

"Garp? Teach me?" Victor scoffed. "Not officially enlisted then. Think that old man breaks protocol?" 

Garp had principles. He'd teach Haki (by beating it into them), but never Rokushiki—even if pirates used it. 

Smoker conceded. His gaze turned incredulous. 'Self-taught? At fourteen? Monster.' Envy warred with frustration. He wanted to punch Victor but knew his Smoke-Smoke Fruit wouldn't guarantee victory. 

Then Victor walked on air. The sharp 'cracks' of Geppo drew every eye in the camp. Gasps erupted. 'Victor? From the newbie camp? Learned Geppo overnight?!' Smoker's warnings suddenly felt terrifyingly real. 

"Alright, Smoker. Got the gist. I'll practice." Victor landed smoothly, waving as he turned to leave. 

────── 

He hadn't gone far when a voice, deep and commanding, boomed across the grounds: 

"WHO KNOCKED OUT THE GUARDS?!" 

Victor turned. Standing there was a man with violet hair, a stern face, and a powerful three-meter frame clad in a Marine uniform and Justice cloak—Zephyr. His eyes locked onto Victor. 

Zephyr had returned from a meeting to find the Elite Camp guards unconscious. Fearing an attack, he'd scanned the area with Observation Haki, finding only this stranger casually using 'Geppo'. 

Now, Zephyr stared Victor down. Victor met his gaze without flinching. Meeting Zephyr was part of his plan—especially for Armament Haki. 

"Instructor Zephyr. Victor. Orens Victor. New recruit, arrived yesterday." Victor's voice was calm, devoid of the awe most felt before a former Admiral. A strange feeling stirred within him. "I knocked them out." 

"Ah, so you're the recruit Garp brought to headquarters. You certainly have some nerve. Mind telling me why you knocked them out?" 

A faint smile tugged at Zephyr's lips. He'd heard about Victor during today's meeting—Garp had praised him endlessly, even claiming he had the potential to become an admiral. Naturally, Zephyr's interest was piqued. He always had a soft spot for prodigies. 

"I came to the Elite Training Camp looking for you, Instructor Zephyr. But these two blocked my way, saying I wasn't part of the program. So I decided to show them my strength—well, they couldn't handle it. Guess I just proved my qualifications." Victor shrugged, feigning helplessness. 

"Hah! You think knocking out two guards proves you belong in the Elite Camp? No, no—you'd have to beat them!" 

Zephyr gestured toward the surrounding elite trainees, grinning. He wanted to gauge Victor's true capabilities. The kid had presence, but theory alone wasn't enough. 

"What a hassle. I just wanted to learn Armament Haki from you early. Fine, then—let them all come at me!" Victor dug a finger into his ear, utterly nonchalant. He needed to prove his worth. 

Zephyr's eyes gleamed. His initial plan was to test Victor with a few opponents, but this kid was demanding everyone? 'Bold. Let's see if he can back it up.' 

The surrounding trainees, however, were furious. The sheer audacity! They'd clawed their way past thousands to earn their spots here, and this rookie was dismissing them like cannon fodder? 

Weapons were drawn. Smoker and Hina joined the fray—they were part of the Elite Camp, after all. 

"Hahaha! Alright, then—let's see what you've got! Everyone, ATTACK!" 

Zephyr's voice boomed with excitement. In all his years as an instructor, no recruit—not even Sakazuki, Kuzan, or Borsalino in their prime—had dared challenge their entire batch at once. 

'This ought to be interesting.' 

The trainees surged forward, fists and blades flashing. 

Victor didn't strike first. Instead, he relied on Observation Haki, weaving through the onslaught with effortless grace. 

Only a handful could attack simultaneously—the rest were bottlenecked by the crowd. Against Victor's speed and precognition, landing a hit was impossible. 

Zephyr's grin widened. 'So he's mastered Observation Haki already. Not just awakened—perfected. No wonder he's here for Armament.' 

With this combination, Victor was virtually untouchable in the Elite Camp. The only question was stamina—could he outlast them all? 

The attackers grew increasingly unnerved. Dozens of strikes, yet not a single graze. A few Devil Fruit users joined in, but even their abilities fell short. 

Logia-types were rare, and Smoker's Smoke-Smoke Fruit wasn't exactly offensive. The chaos of his smoke clouds hindered his allies more than Victor. 

After fifteen minutes of flawless evasion, Victor finally spoke: 

"My turn." 

Shing! 

Twin blades flashed. Those who lunged at him found themselves airborne before they could blink, cheeks stinging from the flat of Victor's sword. 

"Wh—what just—?" 

Dazed, they crashed to the ground. 'Too fast.' In their minds, a single title formed: 

'The Speed King.' 

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