Rosinante giving up so easily had been unexpected—not just for Tsugikuni Yoriichi, but even for Zephyr.
Though Zephyr hadn't seen Rosinante much, he had often heard Sengoku praise his adopted son's sensibility, determination, and diligence. Today, seeing him sprawled on the tatami, Zephyr's smile turned quickly into a stern frown. Sengoku's over-indulgence had produced this lack of perseverance. And when it came to training, Zephyr was a serious man.
Even though Rosinante wasn't a Marine yet, nor a Naval Academy student, Zephyr's voice barked across the dojo:
"Rosinante! Stand up! The navy isn't a game! On the battlefield, you could die at any moment! If you don't train hard, pirates will kill you. Do you want Sengoku to see his son die?! You're Sengoku's adopted son, right? Don't be such a wimp!"
Startled, Rosinante scrambled to his feet. "Yes… yes! I'll continue!"
Grabbing his bamboo sword, he roared and charged Yoriichi once more. Zephyr, watching with pride and frustration, praised him, "Very impressive! Isn't that something you can do?"
Yoriichi, as always, dodged effortlessly, striking Rosinante's ankle with the tip of his sword. Rosinante stumbled, pain fueling his determination. Clutching his bamboo sword, teeth gritted, he charged again and again, morning passing in a blur.
Though Rosinante's techniques were poor, his willpower was strong. Overprotected by Sengoku, he had grown slowly; even in adulthood, his skills barely surpassed an average Marine. At twelve, he was only slightly stronger than an ordinary child.
By lunch, his muscles ached, hands trembled, and even holding a spoon was a challenge.
"Yuichi… I've never trained this hard! Will this affect my growth?" he asked between bites.
"You won't grow taller, right?" Yoriichi replied calmly. At nearly two meters, Rosinante was already exceptionally tall; Yoriichi barely reached 170 cm.
"No, I want to be tall!" Rosinante shook his head stubbornly.
Their conversation was interrupted when the restaurant door opened. Zephyr walked in carrying a tray—and behind him, a tall, middle-aged man with a cloak of justice entered, tray piled high with food.
"Hey! Yoriichi brat!" Garp shouted, grinning, plopping the tray onto the table without ceremony.
"Vice Admiral Garp!" Yoriichi and Rosinante greeted him respectfully.
"Hahaha! Don't be so formal! I heard Zephyr was cooking today, so I came to eat. Perfect timing!" Garp laughed as he sat down, diving into the food with obvious delight.
"Garp, weren't you chasing Roger? How come you're back so soon?" Zephyr asked.
"Only a dozen days since I set sail. Weather in the New World messed me up—lost track of Roger. Came back to check on you guys too," Garp replied, casually munching on his food.
Garp's focus was never ordinary. As a Vice Admiral, he pursued the Roger Pirates relentlessly, keeping the East China Sea relatively safe. Even so, the news of Roger entering the New World had drawn him into action—but he returned sooner than expected.
After finishing his meal in record time, Garp turned to Yoriichi:
"Come here, boy. Let me see if you've made any progress. I brought you into the Navy, so I'm responsible for you. If you waste your talent, I'll be in trouble!"
Without hesitation, Garp grabbed Yoriichi's arm and led him to the courtyard. Rosinante, tray in hand, watched with glee, cheering him on.
"Attack! Let me see how much progress you've made!"
Yoriichi retrieved a bamboo sword from the gym and charged, thrusting straight at Garp. The strike was lightning fast, but Garp caught it effortlessly, frowning.
"Stop! Why are you still attacking like that? You've been here twenty days. You should be able to learn the Six Styles and Haki by now. Why… still so weak?"
Turning to Zephyr, Garp demanded, "What have you been teaching him? Why hasn't he progressed in over half a month?"
Zephyr, slightly embarrassed, replied, "He's young. Enriching his knowledge is also progress. There's still time for the Six Styles later."
Garp, however, wasn't convinced. With a quick nod, he tossed Yoriichi his bamboo sword, whispering to Zephyr, "Is this what Steel Bone Sora meant?"
His insight was immediate. Garp shook his head, looking at Yoriichi with a sigh:
"This won't work. We can't cultivate a strong Navy with this method. Next time we go to sea, I want to take this kid with me."
Zephyr objected, "No! He's too young! Not officially a Marine yet!"
"This is an order!" Garp roared, his voice booming. "Age doesn't matter! Pirates his age are already sailing! If anyone objects, tell me in person!"
With that, he snorted and strode away, leaving Zephyr shaking his head—and smiling.
"Hahaha! This is for your own good! You can't become strong by just reading books! That bastard came back just in time!" Yoriichi thought with relief and excitement.
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(End of Chapter)