At night, the waves never stopped.
Inside the cabin, Kyle lay sprawled out in a hammock, limbs stretched in all directions. Faint bruises mottled his face, and several parts of his body were wrapped in bandages. Yet the corners of his mouth curved upward uncontrollably.
In his dream, he stood atop a golden ship, wielding a black-and-gold naginata with flowing ripples shimmering along the blade.
Before him was a massive fleet of warships. The Admiral, leading them, stared up solemnly at Kyle, only for him to lazily wave his weapon. In an instant, the entire sea split apart like torn cloth, monstrous waves surging up to engulf the fleet.
As the wreckage sank beneath the waves, countless treasures and stunning beauties floated toward him. He sat proudly on a golden throne, receiving the admiring gazes of the world's strongest warriors...
"Hahaha…"
A strange, arrogant laugh slipped from Kyle's throat, sounding particularly out of place in the quiet cabin.
By the door, Rayleigh paused while wiping down his sword. He raised a hand to rub his forehead helplessly. This kid… even his dreams aren't peaceful. Quietly, he stepped out, leaving Kyle to his delusions.
Outside, moonlight poured like water over the sea, scattering countless silver flecks across the surface.
Roger sat alone at the bow, leaning against the figurehead, head tilted back as he took a deep swig of rum.
"Did I wake you?" he asked without turning around, voice laced with amusement.
"It's fine," Rayleigh said, walking over and sitting beside him, resting the sword across his lap. "Just a certain kid laughing like a maniac in his sleep."
"Hahaha! Must be a fun dream!" Roger grinned, taking another swig. Then he turned to glance at Rayleigh. "By the way, did you catch his move this afternoon?"
"Yeah." Rayleigh pushed his glasses up. "Good concept, and great timing."
"Better than good!" Roger's eyes lit up with excitement. He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "It actually made me feel just a little bit of danger—this much! Kuhahaha!"
Rayleigh's expression grew thoughtful. After a pause, he said, "It's not just about strength. Roger, did you notice something… strange about Kyle's dodging in the last week of 'love-feeding' training?"
Roger turned slightly, intrigued. "Oh? Like what?"
"At first, he relied purely on his senses—sight, sound, reflexes. But lately..." Rayleigh's brows furrowed slightly, recalling the scenes, "his movements have become strange. There were multiple times when your fish and my wooden board came at him simultaneously from behind, yet he always managed to avoid them in the most efficient, almost unnatural way. It's as if…"
Roger's grin slowly faded. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, then suddenly slapped his thigh and burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter.
"Kuhahahaha! I get it! It's Observation Haki!"
Of course, he'd noticed. But Roger wasn't one for analysis like Rayleigh—he trusted his gut.
And what he felt from Kyle was unmistakable: a growing presence, the early awakening of a power that could catch fleeting glimpses of the future.
"This kid probably hasn't even realized it yet," Rayleigh glanced back toward the cabin, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
"Not knowing makes it more fun! Hahaha!" Roger tilted his head back, draining the last drop of rum before flinging the bottle into the sea with a splash.
He rose to his feet and spread his arms wide, embracing the sea breeze and the endless sky.
Rayleigh chuckled under his breath, watching his captain's usual wild antics. He adjusted his glasses and looked up at the deep night sky. With a quiet sigh, he murmured:
"We really… found a terrifying little monster."
"Kuhahahaha!" Roger's wild laughter echoed far and wide across the silent ocean, startling a few seabirds circling overhead.
Boom—! A thud came from inside the cabin as Kyle rolled off his hammock and hit the floor with a loud curse.
"Captain from hell! What the hell! I was just getting to the best part of my dream!"
"Kuhahahaha!"
---
My name is Kyle, and I'm a student.
Fake tutor: Rayleigh — a master at misleading his students.
Real masterclass instructor: Kaidou — The first Raimei Hakke (Thunderclap Eight Trigrams) taught Flowing Sakura. The second taught Conqueror's Haki Entanglement. The third awakened the Devil Fruit. There was no fourth… because the master himself was defeated.
That's how Kaido was described by fans in my previous life.
But now? It's not entirely wrong… At least, the younger version of Rayleigh seems like a decent teacher.
Kyle, who now enjoyed the full support of both Roger and Rayleigh, felt no shame whatsoever about being a second-gen strongman.
In fact, at this moment, he felt terrifyingly powerful.
He really hoped a few dumb pirate crews would try robbing them—he was itching to test his new skills in actual combat.
Unfortunately, the ship they were on looked so shabby that even if pirates did come across them, they'd probably sympathize and hand him 100 Berries out of pity.
Bang—!
Roger's plain and unremarkable fist landed squarely on Kyle's head, snapping him out of his wild fantasies. A noticeable bump began to swell.
"Damn it, Captain! What was that for?!"
"Kuhahaha! Catch me if you can!" Roger laughed heartily as he ran off.
Kyle's eyes nearly spat fire. He shot up at once and chased after him, the two—one big and one small—tearing around the cabin like children in a playground.
Watching the pair act like rowdy kids on deck, Rayleigh could only rub his forehead, feeling a wave of helpless exhaustion wash over him.
The future looks bleak…
---
Sailing was an eternal romance—but also a long and lonely journey.
Kyle had come up with that poetic line about a week ago while staring at the endlessly unchanged horizon dividing sea and sky.
Adventure? Surprise encounters? Not really.
A pirate's life was usually mundane and repetitive. They had been drifting at sea for almost two months since leaving that nameless island.
Aside from the occasional clueless Sea King who mistook their beat-up ship for dessert—and was eventually lulled to sleep by Roger—the days were duller.
"Ugh! Sea, you're just water!" Kyle complained loudly. Sitting cross-legged on the bow, he lazily stretched out a finger.
The air in front of it trembled slightly. A breeze appeared out of nowhere, dancing up the mast and around the sail, before mischievously messing up Rayleigh's golden hair.
Rayleigh looked up from his book with a glare that clearly said: If you mess around again, you're skipping dinner.
Kyle chuckled sheepishly and retracted his hand, defeated.
Over the past month, aside from the hellish physical training, he'd spent most of his time working on fine control of his Wave Fruit ability.
For instance, this move he'd named [Breeze Dawn]—it created a breeze by subtly vibrating the air. In the Calm Belt, it could even act as a makeshift wind engine for the sails.
More often, though, he was Roger's personal air conditioner.
"Little Kyle! Over here! It's a bit warm!" Roger lay sprawled on the deck like a sun-dried fish, holding a massive barbecued leg in one hand.
Kyle rolled his eyes, but waved his hand anyway. A cool breeze swept over Roger's side, refreshing him instantly.
This was daily life aboard the ship.
Under Roger and Rayleigh's devilish training, Kyle's body had grown tougher, faster, and stronger at a pace visible to the naked eye.
His strength, speed, and endurance were far beyond what they used to be. He was also becoming increasingly proficient with his Wave Fruit, not just limited to his signature move, [Shock Punch].
He could feel it: he was getting stronger. But he still lacked a chance to let it all out.
Kyle was like a finely forged sword, still waiting for a whetstone to sharpen its edge. He craved a real fight, something to test how far he'd come.
Sparring with Roger every day? That didn't count either. That was just one-sided abuse.
"Ahhhh! I'm so bored!" Kyle screamed to the heavens, then collapsed onto the deck face-first. "Anything's fine! Marines! Pirates! Meteorites, even!"
"Haha! The brat's got too much energy!" Roger devoured the last bite of meat, tossed the bone into the sea, and flipped to his feet with a nimble somersault. "How about another round of 'love feeding' training?"
Kyle sprang to his feet instantly, eyes wide with alarm as he glanced warily at both Roger and Rayleigh, who had, at some point, set his book aside.
"Nope! Nope! Please no!" Just the sight of barrels and fish now gave him trauma. The Supreme Sea Fish Roger wielded them like instruments of torture, especially targeting Kyle's backside.
Just then, Rayleigh—who had been quietly observing—suddenly spoke.
"You two," he said calmly, "we've got company."
"Huh?" Roger and Kyle turned at the same time.
"At three o'clock northeast. A three-masted ship is heading toward us," Rayleigh said as he set his book down. "It's fast. Judging by the flag, they're pirates."