Hearing Ezra's words, Sengoku's golden face grew solemn. He could tell that the young man wasn't bluffing. Ezra slowly sheathed Ryūjin Jakka, his movements deliberate, calm, and filled with intent.
Sengoku's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of realization crossing them. "So… a Draw Slash, is it?"
Ezra stepped forward with his right foot, body lowering slightly as his right hand rested on the hilt at his waist. His crimson eyes glowed faintly then snapped open in an instant.
In that moment, every ounce of spiritual pressure within him surged, flowing into his blade like a river of molten fire.
"Torchlight Matsunaga!"
A sharp ring split the air as Ezra drew his blade.
A vortex of flames burst forth, forming a spiraling inferno that tore across the ground toward Sengoku. The Admiral's eyes widened in shock he could feel the heat before he could even process what he was seeing.
An alarm rang in his instincts. "Not good!"
Without hesitation, Sengoku unleashed his Armament Haki to its fullest. Both fists hardened, coated in blackened energy as he swung forward.
The moment his fists met the oncoming firestorm, the world erupted.
BOOM!
A blinding explosion of flame and wind shook the training ground, sending waves of smoke billowing outward.
"Cough! Cough!" Sengoku waved the smoke from his face, his voice rough. "That's enough, Ezra!"
Ezra exhaled sharply, lowering his sword. The attack had drained nearly all of his remaining strength his limbs trembled slightly from the strain.
Across from him, Sengoku reverted from his Buddha form, his massive frame shrinking back into his human self. His uniform, however, was in tatters, the fabric burned and blackened in several places.
Ezra quietly released his Shikai, sliding the flaming blade back into its sheath.
"Admiral," he asked with a small smile, "does this mean I can join the Navy now?"
Sengoku wanted to nod immediately every instinct in him screamed yes but as the Fleet Admiral, he had to maintain composure before his men. He coughed lightly into his hand.
"Ezra, you've passed. From this day forward, you're officially a member of the Navy."
Ezra's lips curved into a genuine smile. "Thank you, sir!"
Sengoku sighed. "Ahem. From now on, you'll address me as Fleet Admiral Sengoku, not 'sir' or 'old man.'"
"Alright, old man. Got it, old man."
Sengoku: "…"
Suppressing his exasperation, he said, "Go get changed on the battleship. Then accompany me to Mary Geoise."
Ezra nodded obediently and followed one of the officers toward the ship.
As Sengoku watched him leave, his mind began to whirl. With that kind of power, he's already at least Vice Admiral level, he thought grimly. But without any record of service or military achievement, a direct promotion isn't possible…
He crossed his arms, thinking. Still, rules can bend if the situation calls for it.
His gaze drifted toward the distant horizon. "I'll have to call in a favor from the Five Elders…"
If Garp or Tsuru had been there to hear that, they would've thought Sengoku had lost his mind. Never before had he begged the Five Elders for anyone not even for Rosinante, the man he saw as his own son.
Meanwhile, aboard the ship, Ezra could feel the weight of countless stares following him.
"That's the kid who fought Sengoku to a draw!"
"He's insane! Did you see that fire technique?"
"I bet he'll be an Admiral in a few years!"
"Ha! Why stop there? Maybe he'll be the next Fleet Admiral!"
Ezra's mouth twitched slightly. These people really like to exaggerate…
Still, one comment caught his attention. A draw? he thought wryly. Pretty generous of them…
"Ezra, this will be your quarters for now," a young marine said, gesturing to a nearby door.
Ezra nodded politely. "Thank you."
The marine chuckled. "No need for thanks. Honestly, after today, I wouldn't be surprised if you became my superior someday. Oh, and dinner's almost ready the mess hall's still in the same place, right?"
Ezra nodded with conviction. As a proud foodie, how could he possibly forget something so vital?
"Good! Your uniform's already been placed inside. Rest up, Ezra."
"Got it. See you."
After the marine left, Ezra stepped into his new room. It was simple one bed, a small bathroom, a desk, and the neatly folded Navy uniform laid on top of it.
He stretched lazily, a content sigh escaping his lips. "Finally, a real bed. But first… a shower. It's been way too long."
After cleaning up and donning his new uniform, Ezra stood before the mirror, admiring his reflection.
Short, messy black hair. Crimson eyes gleaming with a quiet, disciplined calm. Nearly six-foot-two in height tall by normal standards, if not particularly impressive in this world of giants.
His lean, muscular build fit perfectly beneath the crisp navy-blue jacket. Matching trousers and a pair of short black boots completed the look.
He smirked. "Not bad. Damn, I'm handsome."
Sliding Ryūjin Jakka into the sheath at his hip, Ezra headed toward the mess hall only to be stopped after a few steps.
"Ezra, the Fleet Admiral requests your presence!"
The marine who called out stood rigidly at attention, his voice respectful. Even without a formal rank, everyone aboard knew this young man was destined for greatness.
"I understand. Thank you." Ezra replied warmly, following him toward Sengoku's quarters.
Knock, knock!
"Enter."
Ezra stepped inside. "You needed me, old man?"
Sengoku froze mid-signature, his pen halting above the document. He sighed. "Ezra… yes, about that."
He leaned back in his chair, studying the young man before him. "You know your strength, right? You're already far beyond most officers in the Navy."
Ezra tilted his head slightly. "Am I?"
Sengoku ignored the sarcasm. "You could easily hold a high-ranking position but therein lies the problem."
He paused, his tone turning serious. "You have no service record. No missions, no commendations. According to regulation, your rank would start at the bottom third-class seaman, then second-class, corporal, sergeant, warrant officer, lieutenant… and so on."
Ezra nodded thoughtfully. He understood the system. The Navy's hierarchy was rigid, built to reward experience and loyalty. From the lowest recruit to Vice Admiral, every promotion was a battle of merit and time.
Sengoku continued, "It takes years sometimes decades to rise from the enlisted ranks to the officer corps. From ensign to captain, then major, colonel, commodore, rear admiral, vice admiral, and finally Admiral."
He set his pen down, meeting Ezra's calm gaze. "But someone like you… doesn't fit neatly into those boxes."
Ezra smiled faintly. "So, what you're saying is… you're planning to bend the rules, old man?"
Sengoku groaned. "Don't push your luck, Ezra D. Vale."
Ezra chuckled, his crimson eyes flickering with mischief. "Hey, I'm just making sure I heard that right."
The Fleet Admiral pinched the bridge of his nose, but deep down, he couldn't help but feel amused. This kid's a handful… but he might be exactly what the Navy needs.