"Yes, Master Z!"
Rosinante responded at once. A moment later, adjutant Kalit led a group of Marines onto the training field, rolling out one of Garp's third-grade cannonballs and placing it on the academy's running track.
"Wh-What's going on here?"
"Are they... putting on a live-fire demo or something?"
"Look at the size of that cannonball! That thing must weigh a ton!"
The cadets stared wide-eyed at the massive projectile, it was practically the size of a small car. The sheer scale was enough to leave most of them stunned.
But among the crowd, a few were more informed.
"What's all the fuss about?" One cadet scoffed. "That's Vice Admiral Garp's third-grade cannonball. My dad's a Major stationed at HQ, he once saw Garp throw that thing by hand, and it sank a pirate ship in a single shot!"
"By hand?! That's insane!"
Gasps echoed across the field. Before they could recover, another round of astonished shouts erupted.
"Look! That kid, he's walking up to the cannonball!"
"What's he doing? Don't tell me... he's going to try throwing it?! Like Garp?!"
Rosinante ignored the murmurs. He grabbed the iron chain attached to the cannonball and gave it a firm tug, causing it to clatter and groan under the strain.
Then he turned around, slung the chain over his shoulder, and planted his feet assuming the stance of an ox pulling a cart.
"My God, what's that kid trying to do?"
"Is he seriously going to try dragging that thing?! It's taller than he is!"
"This is ridiculous. There's no way a kid his size can move it!"
…
The cadets whispered doubtfully among themselves. On the platform, Z narrowed his eyes, a glimmer of interest flashing in them.
"Let's see it, then." He called out. "Show me how badly you want to grow stronger!"
Rosinante responded with a roar, veins bulging in his arms as he poured his strength into the chain. "Aaaaahhhh—!"
And then, impossibly—the enormous third-grade cannonball began to move.
"It moved?! No way!"
"Is this kid even human?!"
"This is unreal! He's just a child, how the hell is he doing this?!"
…
Gasps gave way to stunned silence as all eyes locked on Rosinante.
"He's strong like a monster, huh~" Borsalino muttered, a rare flicker of genuine shock in his gaze before quickly masking it with his trademark lazy drawl.
The nearby cadets could only respond with silent frustration:
You and Sakazuki are the real monsters here, okay?!
"Sakazuki, you got nothing to say?" Borsalino turned with a smirk.
Sakazuki shot him a glare. "That kid's giving it his all. Meanwhile, a grown man like yours just wasting oxygen."
Borsalino: (⊙o⊙)…
"Aaahhhh!"
Rosinante was now sprinting around the Marine Academy's massive track, dragging the cannonball behind him. But halfway through the course, his pace slowed. Sweat poured down his face, soaking through his uniform.
His stamina was nearly depleted, already down by 80%. And half the course still remained.
"Looks like he's spent." Garp said between bites of a doughnut. "That second half's gonna be rough."
Sengoku frowned, clearly worried. But there was nothing he could do. This was Rosinante's test. All he could do was silently will his son on: You can do this, Rosinante… keep going!
Rosinante knew he was nearly spent, but he didn't give up. Slowing his pace, he tapped into the last 20% of his strength, determined to cover as much ground as possible.
He also began to regulate his breathing, doing his best to recover some stamina on the go. Fortunately, he had his crystal wristbands, which accelerated stamina recovery. Thanks to that, once his final 20% ran dry, he managed to claw back an extra 5%.
With that sliver of energy, he dragged the cannonball further still.
But by the time he reached the final quarter of the course, his body was completely drained. He had reached his absolute limit.
"It's over. He's tapped out."
"Still… the fact that he pulled that thing for three-quarters of the course is insane."
"Seriously. Did any of us have that kind of strength when we were his age?"
"Come on, man—you were still peeing in the mud when you were eight!"
…
The cadets murmured among themselves, all assuming Rosinante was finished.
On the viewing platform, Sengoku sat with clenched fists, his palms slick with sweat. He hadn't felt this tense in years, not even when facing the Whitebeard Pirates.
"…Is this as far as he goes?" Z muttered.
Even Garp had slowed his chewing. Fleet Admiral Kong watched in silence, lost in thought.
But then, Rosinante didn't stop.
He gritted his teeth and kept moving, digging deep into reserves he didn't know he had. The cannonball creaked forward, slowly and painfully.
Each step was agony. But he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
Stopping meant surrender. It meant failing the Marine Academy entrance test. It meant closing the door on his dream.
No. He wouldn't give up. Not here.
You have ambition, Rosinante. You can't fall here. You're not some nobody. You are more than this!
Step. Step. Step…
Each footfall was a battle. His body had long since hit its limit, only his willpower was keeping him upright.
Thankfully, he'd spent the past month eating nothing but Sea King meat, which replenished his physical reserves. Otherwise, his body might've collapsed already.
Step. Step. Step…
His legs shook. Every step was like lifting a mountain. But Rosinante pushed on, teeth clenched, and eyes locked ahead.
The cadets had fallen completely silent. No one mocked him now. They were all captivated, moved by his sheer determination.
To defy the impossible… to fight on knowing you'll fail… That's what it means to be a man.
"…He's an impressive little brat." Kong said, nodding in approval.
Even Garp paused mid-doughnut. "Eh, his physique's still a ways off from my boy Dragon's."
"Damn you, Garp!" Sengoku snapped. "Dragon's fifteen. Rosinante's eight. How's that even a fair comparison?!"
Z didn't say a word. He kept his eyes fixed on Rosinante, who was dragging that cannonball with nothing but sheer will.
Then, finally, Z turned to Sengoku and said quietly:
"You raised a fine son, Sengoku. …I like this kid."
(End of Chapter)
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