At The Peak of One Piece

Victor stopped holding back. He stripped off his weighted training gear and tossed it aside, the impact cratering the ground. The other recruits flinched—'what kind of monster is this guy?' 

Ignoring them, Victor charged at Zephyr. 

At first, he was sent flying within a few exchanges. But as time passed, he gradually adapted to Zephyr's rhythm. 

The intervals between being knocked back grew longer. Victor began using sword slashes to disrupt Zephyr's movements, buying himself precious moments to counter. 

With the Speed-Speed Fruit enhancing his reflexes, Victor's movements weren't far behind Zephyr's. Though the veteran had Armament Haki, landing a clean hit wasn't easy—Victor's twin blades weren't just for show. 

Their clash grew fiercer, Victor's combat instincts sharpening with each exchange. 

Zephyr, meanwhile, was stunned. 'This adaptability… this learning speed…!' He didn't know Victor's body had an innate talent for mastery—repetition alone made him stronger. 

A Haki-coated fist shot toward Victor's face. Dodging, Victor swung both swords at Zephyr's neck—only for the instructor's left arm to intercept with another Black Arm block. The retracted right fist was already driving forward. 

Victor kicked off the air with Moon Step, retreating—then instantly twisted mid-air, slashing back toward Zephyr's eyes. 

The blades were centimeters away when Zephyr's fists snapped upward, deflecting them overhead. 

'Oh shi—' 

A Haki-imbued punch slammed into Victor's exposed chest. 

BOOM!'' 

He flew. 

High. Far. 

In that weightless moment, his mind entered a trance. The pain of Armament Haki was unique—like foreign energy drilling into his cells, tearing them apart. Yet within those same cells, something 'resisted'. 

A battlefield unfolded in his mind's eye: scattered black particles—his dormant Armament potential—being overrun by the invading force. Some fled, some fought weakly, most lay inactive. 

'Ah.' 

He hit the ground skidding, but his lips curled into a smile. 

'So this is the essence of Armament Haki.' 

It wasn't just a technique—it was a power 'woven into every cell'. To use it, you had to awaken and command those slumbering forces. 

'No wonder they say it exists throughout the entire body.' 

--- 

Smoker and Tashigi rushed over, finding Victor motionless but grinning. 

"Did… did Zephyr punch his brains out?" Smoker muttered, reaching to help him up. 

"Don't touch him." Zephyr's voice carried across the field. "He's having an epiphany. Interrupting now would ruin it—and make an enemy for life." 

As a seasoned instructor, Zephyr recognized the state. 'To grasp it in one fight… ridiculous talent.' 

(Though Victor would argue: 'Talent? No. This was years of brutal training paying off.') 

When Victor finally stirred, Zephyr was gone. Smoker and Tashigi hovered nearby while the other recruits stared in awe. 

Rubbing his bruised chest, Victor stood—still smiling. 

"You okay? That looked brutal," Smoker asked. 

"I'm built different," Victor chuckled. "Where's Zephyr?" 

"Left after you zoned out. Said not to disturb you. Also left a message." 

"Oh?" 

"Zephyr-sensei said you can come to the Elite Camp anytime," Smoker relayed, a hint of envy in his voice. "He's informed the guards. You can even seek personal guidance when he's present. Damn lucky... Elite trainees struggle to get his one-on-one time, let alone an outsider." 

Victor smiled faintly. He understood Zephyr's intent—dropping a Sea King among minnows to spur growth. Fine by him. The Elite Camp's superior facilities were worth it; he couldn't waste all day on theory. 

He picked up the discarded weighted gear. Trainees nearby flinched. They'd tried lifting it earlier—impossible. The sheer weight revealed how much Victor had held back during their "battle." Respect, tinged with awe, replaced their earlier resentment. 'This man's discipline is terrifying.' 

"Right. I'm off. Drinks tonight." Victor fastened the weights, waved to Smoker and Hina, and strode out, ignoring the stares. 

At the gate, the guards—now awake—watched him warily. Victor offered a brief, non-threatening smile. They were just doing their job; he was the rule-breaker. 

────── 

Hours of fighting Zephyr had drained him. Hunger gnawed. He fetched Rebecca, and they headed toward the sea bordering the New Recruit Zone—a strip of land wedged between Marineford's residential sector and the Red Line. 

Victor needed Sea King meat. Common food couldn't fuel his body's demand for primal energy anymore. The battle had also exhausted his Observation Haki; maintaining peak focus burned through it rapidly. Rebecca? She was along for the feast. 

They passed through forests to the coast. Watchtowers dotted the shoreline, sentries perpetually scanning for hostile ships. Distant towers, Smoker had mentioned, stood even farther out at sea. The guards ignored them—recognized as recruits. Victor and Rebecca barely glanced at the defenses. 

Victor stripped off his weights and shirt, revealing lean, powerful muscles. He dove into the sea, vanishing into the depths. Rebecca gathered driftwood, then chopped fresh timber into sections, scattering them to dry—future fuel. Their routine, perfected over time. 

────── 

By the time Rebecca had prepped the cooking area, Victor emerged, dragging a massive, unconscious Sea King. Sentries gaped. 'Who' hauls Sea Kings ashore like caught fish? 

Rebecca, unfazed, eyed the bizarre creature eagerly. Sea Kings came in endless, grotesque varieties—likely interbreeding freely across species. Each tasted unique. Anticipation sparked. 

Victor butchered the beast at water's edge, segmenting it. Some cuts were reserved for tonight's drinks. The rest went onto spits beside crackling fires. Victor's stomach seemed to have mastered Life Return—it devoured astonishing quantities. 

His digestion was monstrous. Bones dissolved before one's eyes. Victor sensed that unlocking Armament Haki would grant full control over this ultimate Rokushiki secret. The certainty bloomed after today's battle—visions of Haki warfare flickering in his mind.