At The Peak of One Piece

Exams concluded. Instructor Andrew gathered all recruits to announce exhilarating news: two days of leave. 

"Explore the Residential or Administrative Sectors," he declared, "but restricted areas guarded by soldiers are off-limits. Violators will face consequences." He added that monthly two-day leaves would become routine before dismissing them. 

En route to his office, Andrew passed an elderly subject instructor—a respected veteran teacher known for uncompromising integrity. 

"Andrew," the teacher turned abruptly, "that Victor never attended my class. Yet his exam scores were exceptional. Did you… intervene?" Suspicion laced his voice. 

"Absolutely not," Andrew replied, stunned. "I personally invigilated him precisely to prevent cheating. His results were truly outstanding?" 

"Top marks in my subject," the teacher confirmed, brow furrowed. "How does a perpetual absentee achieve this?" 

Andrew recalled Victor's confident claim on day one. "He insisted he could self-study. I assumed it was arrogance masking his desire to skip to the elite camp… but it seems he meant it." 

"Hmph. I'll review his other papers." The teacher shook his head and walked away. 

Back at the barracks, recruits rejoiced. After relentless training and studying, freedom beckoned. Even Victor was pleasantly surprised—'The Navy showing humanity? Rare.' He too craved exploration. 

'Wonder if Smoker's unit is off-duty? Could hitch a ride to Sabaody…' 

'Still owe Rebecca that amusement park visit.' 

'Can't neglect rare metal collection either.' Victor pondered, stroking his chin. 

He took Rebecca to the elite camp, finding it deserted. 

"Probably on leave too," he shrugged. 

They cut through the Residential Sector toward the Administrative Sector, weaving past giddy recruits in standard-issue uniforms—a sight Victor observed with detached amusement. 

'I'll never wear those rags,' he thought. 'Elite camp graduation means high rank—at least Lieutenant Commander. Just a Justice Coat then.' 

Only officers at Captain rank or higher earned the privilege of wearing the iconic white Justice Coat over their uniforms. Victor remained in his usual black attire—shirt, pants, even the twin swords at his hip gleaming darkly. 

'When I make Vice Admiral… wonder what epithet they'll give me? "Black" something… "Onyai"? "Kurogane"?' He mentally cycled through dark-themed monikers. '"Xuan" has a nice ring too—implies profound darkness.'

...black. 

As for animal motifs, his options within the Navy's zodiac-based naming tradition were limited. 'Given my strength, I'll at least be a Vice Admiral candidate—my title' must 'use a zodiac animal plus color.' 

Current and candidate Admirals all followed this pattern: 

Yellow Monkey (Kizaru), Red Dog (Akainu), Blue Pheasant (Aokiji), 

Purple Tiger (Fujitora), Green Bull (Ryokugyū), Brown Pig (Chaton), Pink Rabbit (Momousagi). 

Victor mentally crossed off unsuitable animals: 

'Snake? Too sinister. 

Sheep? Too docile. 

Rat? Already taken by Vice Admiral Momousagi.' 

'Horse? Fits Zephyr better—standing till death.' 

"Guess 'Dragon' is the only worthy option left," he concluded. "'Onyx Dragon'—perfect." 

Watching uniformed recruits, Victor smugly envisioned his future: elegant attire and a title radiating mystique and dominance. 'Naming truly requires sophistication,' he reflected. 

— 

Victor led Rebecca to the assembly plaza, hoping to hitch a ride to Sabaody. Nearly all elite trainees had gathered there, their murmurs creating a low hum. 

Spotting Smoker and Tina in the crowd, Victor approached. He tapped Smoker's shoulder. The white-haired man glanced back, recognized Victor, and returned his gaze to the sea. 

"You two here too?" Smoker remarked, not turning. "It's our monthly leave. Shouldn't you be relaxing?" 

"Why's the entire elite camp gathered?" Victor asked. 

"Waiting for the supply ship to Sabaody," Smoker explained. "Some just want to see the returning Vice Admiral." 

"Who's coming?" Victor's interest sparked. He'd only met Garp and Tsuru. 'Could it be one of the future Admirals?' 

As for candidates like Chaton or Momousagi—they probably hadn't reached Vice Admiral rank yet.

"Not sure. Instructor Zephyr mentioned a senior was returning for debriefing. People just showed up to catch a glimpse," Smoker shrugged. 

"You're really bad at this, Smoker. After all those free meals, you didn't even invite me? Next time, catch your own damn fish," Victor huffed theatrically. 

Smoker immediately backpedaled: "Look, your appetite's insane. My stipend can't handle it! I want to eat well, but unless you're cooking Sea Kings—" 

Rebecca and Hina burst out laughing. Victor relented—he'd just been messing with Smoker. Outside food couldn't compare to his Sea King dishes anyway. 

"Fine. But next time, you're on firewood duty," Victor declared. 

Smoker agreed hastily. 

--- 

Before long, a ship appeared on the horizon. As it docked, three prominent figures disembarked: 

- Vice Admiral Onigumo: Silver suit, black cape, helmet with a red plume, ten swords at his waist, and a perpetually grim expression. 

- Vice Admiral Strawberry: Pale face, an absurdly elongated skull, twin swords, and an icy demeanor. 

- Vice Admiral Yamakaji: Ever-smiling, cigar-chomping, with a bushy beard and a relaxed aura. 

The moment Onigumo saw the starstruck recruits, he snarled: 

"What's this circus? Marine discipline is a joke to you? Pathetic. I heard a rookie wiped the floor with you 'elites.' If I were you, I'd quit in shame!" 

The crowd froze. Some recruits teared up; others bristled with silent fury. 

"Who does he think he is? Let him fight Victor first!" 

"I'll become an Admiral and end this guy..." 

"I wanna go home..." 

Yamakaji sighed. "Onigumo, was that necessary?" 

Strawberry stayed silent. The trio perfectly embodied the Marines' factions: hardliner (Onigumo), reformist (Yamakaji), and neutral (Strawberry). 

Victor watched, unimpressed. "Admirals or not, they're just proving how small they are."