At The Peak of One Piece

"Hosting you two got me hated in the dorms. Even got punished by the instructor. Much freer by the sea—do whatever you want." 

Since he skipped classes, Victor instructed Smoker and Hina to find him here if he wasn't in the dorms. He treated them to a Sea King feast, leaving both satisfied. 

He then had Rebecca spar with Hina. They were evenly matched: Rebecca couldn't cut through Hina's Tetsu Ori (Iron Prison), and Hina couldn't catch the faster Rebecca. 

They traded blows until Hina's superior experience gave her a slight edge. 

Victor invited Hina to spar with Rebecca regularly, promising delicious rewards. Hina agreed eagerly. 

Smoker sulked. "Why not me?" 

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Who would you spar with?" Smoker fell silent. 

"Face it, you're a lousy Logia user for training. All you do is dodge. Once I unlock Armament Haki, you'll be one-punch material. Focus on getting stronger instead of getting stomped." 

Victor's jab carried double meaning. Keep losing in the future? Train now. He respected Smoker's brand of justice—unlike Akainu's "Absolute Justice", which blurred lines and sacrificed allies. 

Akainu isn't an Admiral yet, Victor mused. Stationed in the New World. His "Absolute Justice"? Just vengeance wrapped in a flag. Like Zephyr post-trauma, wanting to obliterate the New World—pirates and civilians. Akainu was subtler, hiding retaliation behind "necessary sacrifice." 

But justice should protect civilians, not burn them as collateral. The word "JUSTICE" emblazoned on coats felt heavy. How many who wore it truly understood it? Some exploited it to oppress—worse than pirates. 

What justice will I enforce when I command a ship? Victor wondered. Surface evil is just a symptom. Uproot it, and it sprouts anew from fertile darkness. Without purging that soil, efforts were futile. For now, he'd only redress the injustice before his eyes. 

────── 

"Rebecca, the cabin's fully built now. Move your things here. Live here from now on." 

"Got it!" 

"A week's passed. Chosen your specialty?" 

"I choose Navigator!" 

"Solid choice. Work hard." Victor nodded. "Now, training time." 

A week had passed. Victor devoured all textbooks. The seaside cabin stood complete, furnished with essentials. Rare metals he'd collected lay buried nearby, ready for future forging. 

────── 

Victor reflected on recent gains: 

 "Fought Zephyr again. Felt that Haki energy surge within me. Tried commanding those dark particles to defend... barely responded. Only combat skills improved." 

 "Mastered Rankyaku (Storm Leg). Speed-based techniques click fast for me. Easy." 

Though Armament Haki remained elusive, Victor felt no despair. He'd awakened Observation Haki over a year ago—proof his willpower met the core requirement. Both Haki types are governed by will, he reasoned. Observation obeys. Armament ignores... for now. My will must grow stronger. 

His relentless Observation Haki training had already amplified his will. Armament's awakening was inevitable. 

────── 

After contemplation, Victor began Rebecca's daily regimen. 

He blindfolded her. Then he moved silently around her—swinging his sword, throwing punches—forcing her to sense the minute disturbances in the air, the subtle shifts in pressure. This was Victor's foundational course for awakening Observation Haki. 

Victor himself spent most days with eyes closed, Observation Haki radiating outward, painting the world in waves of energy. His mastery had reached a proficient level. Each clash with Zephyr further tempered this perception, forging it sharper.