At The Peak of One Piece

Victor no longer feared Onigumo. The black particles he mobilized for Tekkai had grown denser, allowing him to withstand the vice admiral's slashes—far surpassing the elite trainees' capabilities. 

His physique was monstrous, and with a steady diet of Sea King meat replenishing his vitality, the reserves of black particles within his cells were vast. 

No more hit-and-run tactics. Now, Victor fought head-on. 

With his newfound defense, he pressed the assault relentlessly. Twin blades clashed against Onigumo's hardened body in a relentless 'clang-clang-clang', leaving the vice admiral grimacing. 

His Haki had already been flickering. Under this barrage, it was only a matter of time before his Armament coating collapsed. 

And when that happened—defeat. 

Onigumo's instincts were right. Within ten exchanges, his Armament Haki receded like a tide. 

Seizing the opening, Victor's blades flashed—slicing through all eight of Onigumo's hair-controlled spider legs. Rapiers clattered to the ground. 

A kick sent Onigumo stumbling back, denying him any chance to retrieve his weapons. 

The vice admiral staggered but didn't fall—his hair, empowered by Life Return, anchored him like living tendrils. 

Victor didn't press further. With only two swords left, this was now a duel of pure skill. And against a Haki-depleted, overrated swordsman? He feared nothing. 

--- 

Elite Trainee 1: "Victor's about to win! Onigumo's disarmed! Hah!" 

Elite Trainee 2: "Even his Haki's drained. What's left? Let's hit Sabaody for drinks after this!" 

Elite Trainee 3: "Victor's insane! How old is he? Already beating vice admirals?! I need a Devil Fruit—I need power—AUGH!" 

Yamakaji (sighing): "Onigumo's done. His reputation in our circles won't recover after this. Tch. Should've thought before acting." 

Strawberry (muttering): "Self-inflicted. Dude graduated ages ago—why's he still hung up on recruit drama? Focus on missions, idiot." 

Hina (waving): "Victor! Hina supports you!" 

Victor ignored her. 

Rebecca stayed silent, smiling brightly. 

Smoker's gaze was complex—but when it landed on Victor, gratitude flickered. 

'A true friend. Steps up when it counts.' 

--- 

Onigumo's voice cut through the murmurs, laced with forced bravado: 

Onigumo: "I'll admit, kid—you're decent. Just fast, that's all. If my Haki hadn't run dry, you'd be the one losing. Apologize now, and I'll overlook your insubordination." 

A desperate bluff. Losing to a recruit? Unthinkable. 'Sakazuki would never let me live it down.' 

Victor (snorting): "Insubordination? Spare me. All I care about is beating you. 'When paths cross, the bold win.' What—scared now?" 

Too late for remorse. This arrogant, justice-blinded dog had trampled too many innocents—too many fellow Marines—under hollow excuses. 

Killing him wasn't an option. But a lesson? Oh, that Victor could deliver. 

He advanced. Step by deliberate step. 

Onigumo's heel twitched—instinct urging retreat. Pride hammered it back down. 

Victor's pace quickened. By the time he closed in, afterimages trailed behind him. 

His swords moved with lethal precision—wide arcs, refined strokes, each strike aimed to kill. 

Onigumo pushed Observation Haki to its limits, speed maxed out. Even then, he barely dodged, occasionally resorting to Tekkai to avoid crippling blows. 

But endless defense breeds mistakes. 

Victor's right blade—Yubashiri—slashed diagonally, forcing Onigumo's crossed rapiers wide. 

His left blade—Chikara—retracted, then surged upward in a vicious draw cut! 

'Schink!' 

From abdomen to collarbone, the gash intersected the earlier wounds—forming a snowflake-like scar that would haunt Onigumo forever. 

A mark of shame? Or honor? 

To Onigumo, only one answer existed. 

The force hurled him backward. Victor considered adding a few artistic touches— 

—but Yamakaji and Strawberry blocked his path. 

Yamakaji: "Enough, recruit. Your friend's avenged. Continue, and this becomes murder." 

They couldn't standby any longer. A vice admiral slain under their watch? Unforgivable. 

Strawberry stayed silent, merely standing guard. Still a rear admiral, his promotion years away. 

Victor knew this was the best outcome. Without a word, he sheathed his swords and turned toward Smoker. 

As he helped the wounded man away, his gaze flicked upward—to the highest window of HQ. 

It was already closed. 

Fleet Admiral Kong and Sengoku had left the moment Onigumo fell. The result was clear; no further observation needed. 

Kong (smirking): "Kid's sharp. Not bad with Observation, either." 

Sengoku said nothing. His mind raced with damage control. 

'Onigumo's Sakazuki's man. And Sakazuki's already admiral-tier...' 

If the magma fist returned to find his subordinate humiliated by a recruit? 

Victor stood no chance. 

'Keep Sakazuki on extended patrol. Only recall him after Victor's graduated and assigned elsewhere.' 

Had Sakazuki known of these plans, he might've throttled Onigumo himself. 

'Idiot. Bringing me trouble. Some beatings are just necessary education.' 

--- 

Victor's group reached the seaside cabin. Hina tended to Smoker's wounds while Victor dove into the ocean. 

For rapid healing, medicine alone wasn't enough—high-energy meat accelerated recovery. 

Soon, a Sea King roasted over the firepit. As the aroma filled the air, the four chatted freely. 

Smoker (serious): "Victor. Thanks. Without you, I'd be bedridden for weeks. Need anything in the future? Just say the word." 

Victor (grinning): "No big deal. Wanted to punch that guy anyway. Too damn cocky. Hah! Almost lost, though." 

His gains far outweighed the risks. 

Laughter and feasting carried into the night. 

--- 

Two days passed swiftly. Victor and Rebecca skipped Sabaody's amusement parks—again. 

Instead, Victor dedicated every moment to mastering Tekkai. 

Not the flimsy beginner version that shattered under pressure. 

His cells brimmed with black particles—Sea King feasts ensured that. 

His Tekkai now stood at 'mastery'—beyond rudimentary or intermediate, firmly in the realm of the exceptional. 

When training resumed, Victor joined the morning drills without fanfare. 

Andrew's eyes held newfound awe. The recruits? Pure worship. 

'This guy's a legend! Took down a vice admiral as a recruit?!' 

'How do we even catch up to that? Will he graduate with admiral-tier strength?!' 

Victor ignored the stares. His routine never wavered—endurance runs, speed drills, the fundamentals. 

The moment drills ended, he vanished—denying Andrew any chance to speak. 

'Still not forgiven for that proctoring.' 

Back at the shore, he hunted another Sea King. Post-meal, he'd meditate, attuning himself to the black particles. 

High-energy meat made them more responsive, easier to control. 

Each session edged him closer to that threshold—the awakening of Armament Haki. 

---

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