A staggering 5 million Berries was no small sum—for Tsuru, still just a cadet, it was an enormous burden.
She quietly calculated how many credits she could earn, how much she'd make after graduation...
At the very least, for a long while, she'd have no way of paying it back.
If she went through with the deal with Klein...
Tsuru would become a "Fist Technique Slave!"
Thankfully, Klein wasn't some scummy loan shark who slapped on insane interest rates and forced people into desperation.
No violent debt collecting!
If it were anyone else, they might've already tried capturing Tsuru and selling her off at the slave market.
She had to think this through very carefully.
Unlike Garp, who agreed in a flash, Tsuru spent three whole days mulling it over before she finally approached Klein with her decision.
She was buying Klein's "fist technique."
Of course, sharp as she was, she brought up a few conditions:
"Klein, if you're selling me your technique, then you have to… you have to teach me yourself. Guide me in person."
"And also, once I've bought the technique, I get to spar with you for free."
Klein agreed to the first condition.
Tsuru was technically one of his training class students, and giving her the occasional tip wasn't a big deal.
But the second condition?
Klein shook his head and stood his ground. "Sparring's extra. Gotta pay up!"
That was the line.
His golden rule!
If he sparred with everyone who bought a copy, when would he have time to game or sleep?
Besides, this was an IOU—not cold hard cash.
He wouldn't be seeing that money for a long while.
"Hmm…" Tsuru furrowed her elegant brows, then finally nodded. "Fine. Just the first condition, then."
"If it's okay, I can write up the IOU right now."
Klein handed her paper, a pen, and red ink. Once everything was properly stamped and signed—
He gave her the exclusive manual he'd personally created.
"Beauty Fist Style!"
Moves included: Red Jade Drumbeat, Slender Waist Spin, Goddess Glide…
That's right—he'd borrowed inspiration from Jin Yong's Return of the Condor Heroes and its "Beauty Fist Style."
He had to tweak the "Okama Kenpo" a bit—because as it stood…
No one would buy it.
Presentation is everything when it comes to selling a product.
Tsuru opened the book, her flawless forehead darkening with lines. "This… this artwork is terrible!"
Black stick figures. Red arrows…
Her eyes were truly opened.
She looked up at Klein, her sharp gaze making his skin feel like it was burning.
Shame!
But this technique? Couldn't entrust it to anyone else!
"Ahem—ahem—just practice it! The technique itself is great!" Klein stared hard at the ceiling.
Rustle rustle—
Tsuru flipped through the manual. The drawings were weird, sure, but the text descriptions were concise, clean, and easy to follow. Every breakdown of the moves was practical and clear.
It was obvious Klein had put in real effort. Ignoring the terrible artwork, it was a serious work.
She had to give it a thumbs-up.
"I'll try it out on my own first. If I run into anything I don't get, I'll come find you." Tsuru decided to give it a go solo.
The Okama Kenpo style had tons of techniques, from basic to advanced—everything a student could want.
Some even had traces of Rokushiki embedded in them.
Once Tsuru left, Klein finally let out a huge breath. "Phew—"
"If she'd actually made me demonstrate…"
He would've wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. If she ever did ask for that—he'd definitely say no.
Now that he had money—
He had to maintain at least some dignity and image!!
Klein strolled back toward the dorms. On the school's training grounds, young cadets were still sweating it out, working hard.
It reminded him of his past life, a sharp pang in his heart reminding him—he was a transmigrator.
Memories rushed in like a tide.
"Sigh—why the sudden melancholy? Gotta think of something fun."
The next moment, he remembered the look on Garp's face the first time he called him "Big Bro," and a smirk crept onto his lips.
A thought sparked: "Since Garp already calls me 'Big Bro,' I can't stop there. I need to get Sengoku and Zephyr to call me that too!"
"Jieh heh heh heh—!"
Someday, he'd achieve the ultimate lifetime achievement:
Big Bro of Fleet Admiral Sengoku!
Big Bro of Hero of the Marines Garp!
Big Bro of Admiral 'Black Arm' Zephyr!
The Man Above the Marine Iron Triangle!
Yes…
And also Garp's teacher. Tsuru's teacher…
While they're still young, it's the best time to farm achievements! So fun!
In a few decades, the three future admirals—Akainu, Aokiji, Kizaru—would all be living under Big Bro Klein's legacy.
Jieh heh heh heh—
Later, as one of the Old Era's remaining legends, how could he not have a thunderous title?
Just hearing his name should make pirates and criminals tremble in fear!!
Meanwhile...
At the abandoned shipyard deep in the night, a full moon hung high, casting silvery light over everything.
Three shadows stretched long across the ground—
The "Hard-Training Trio."
But you can't hide fire with paper forever.
Even though Garp had tried to cover the massive lump on his head from Klein's fists—
Sengoku and Zephyr still found out.
And when they saw Garp, who was now practically lump-headed, in such a pitiful—no, miserable—state…
They didn't laugh.
They just stood frozen, like statues.
Their eyes widened in shock—deeply impressed by Garp's unbelievable endurance.
They were floored!
"Garp… Did you… Did this happen while learning Klein's fist technique?"
Even the usually calm, rational Sengoku couldn't keep it together.
Garp, startled, froze with his hand half-raised to cover his head. He had expected…
Mockery.
But Sengoku and Zephyr didn't laugh. They didn't tease him.
That completely caught him off guard.
In a daze, he nodded.
Once they got confirmation, Zephyr went pale. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "Gulp—"
He swallowed hard. Mind blank.
He always thought he was trying hard, pushing himself—but compared to Garp?
His own sweat didn't even deserve to tie his shoes!
Sengoku's emotions surged. He clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white. His lips trembled as he muttered,
"Garp, you bastard! Yeah, you snore like a bear, you snack constantly, and you give everyone dumb nicknames…"
"But—but you damn idiot—why didn't you tell us?!"
"You got beaten like this and just endured it? Why?!"
His eyes and nose began to sting.
Zephyr scowled, furious. "That Klein guy went way too far!?"
"Why'd he do this to Garp!?"
"I'm going to confront him about it!!"
Sengoku's fists tightened further, joints cracking audibly. He gritted his teeth and growled, "Yeah, this is abuse!"
"We need to confront him! Make him admit fault!"
"Sure, he's strong—but we're all cadets! He can't just bully us!"
Zephyr nodded fiercely, full of righteous fury. "All three of us together—I don't believe we can't take him!"
"STOP!"
Garp shouted, eyes full of tears—but trying his hardest to hold them back. "I agreed to this!"
"Big Bro—Big Bro Klein is actually a good guy!"
"The fist technique he taught me… it was full of love!!!"
Sengoku and Zephyr were stunned. Klein had wrecked Garp this hard…
And he was still defending him?
Still calling him Big Bro?
Just what kind of spell had Klein put on Garp?!
Sengoku looked bewildered. He grabbed Garp by the shoulders and shook him hard.
"Why are you defending him?!"
"Look at that giant bump on your head! How could he hit you that hard and not feel a shred of guilt?!"
Zephyr couldn't hold back either. His voice cracked with anger as he shouted in Garp's ear:
"Klein's technique is strong—but this isn't training!"
"This is abuse! Just look at you! Beaten to a pulp!"
"I'm going to confront him myself! No matter what!"