The pure hell of physical conditioning lasted for two full weeks.
When Chief Instructor Zephyr gathered the now noticeably more muscular recruits at the harbor, almost everyone assumed an even more brutal second phase of physical hell was about to begin.
Instead, Zephyr pointed toward a massive Marine transport ship anchored just beyond the docks.
"Starting today, you'll undergo a two-week, no-resupply survival training on a deserted island."
Behind him, a large screen lit up with the map of a jagged, menacing island.
"The target location is an uninhabited island three hundred nautical miles southeast of Headquarters—'Gigantia'!" Zephyr stepped forward and tapped the map with his pointer.
"The voyage will take one day and one night. The island's climate is unstable and home to a large number of undocumented beasts. Occasionally, some brainless pirates use it as a temporary base."
"I'll say this now," Zephyr's voice was utterly cold, with no trace of emotion, sending a chill through everyone present, "we'll drop you on the island and sail back immediately. Two weeks from now, we'll return here to pick up the ones still alive… or your corpses."
He swept his gaze across the recruits, then added the most important rule:
"For this training, Monster Class and Elite Class will all participate. You'll move in groups of two to three. If you haven't found teammates before boarding—your qualification is cancelled. You're going straight to the Prep Class."
That final rule hit like a bomb.
The previously quiet formation exploded into chaos.
The strong ones immediately started scanning for teammates with similar ability.
The average ones looked anxious, eyes darting around, desperate not to be left out.
In the middle of this mess, one figure plowed through the crowd like a panicked golden retriever, heading straight for Rain at the back.
"Rain!" Rosinante stopped in front of him, panting, his face full of nervousness and sincerity. "Um… have you… already picked teammates? If not, could we… could we be in the same group?"
Looking at his honest, slightly dopey face, Rain didn't hesitate. He nodded calmly. "Sure."
He didn't dislike this clumsy but warm-hearted golden retriever.
Besides, having a teammate who looked harmless and normal made it easier for him to hide in plain sight.
"Great!" Rosinante's shoulders sagged with relief, and he broke into a bright grin.
…
Evening, Room 307.
Rain was casually stuffing some "outdoor gear" into a backpack—rope, flint, water purification tablets, and so on. Purely for show.
The real supplies were already neatly stored in his ring.
Smoker paced the room like an angry tiger.
During the afternoon's team-up window, he'd stood there with his arms crossed, wearing a face that screamed "none of you trash are worthy of teaming with me." The result? Everyone sensibly gave the "walking volcano" plenty of space and formed their own groups.
After a long silence, Smoker finally couldn't stand it anymore. He stopped, and in a stiff, awkward tone, muttered:
"Hey… Rain, you… got a team yet?"
Without looking up, Rain kept checking his backpack straps and answered casually, "Yeah. Rosinante asked me."
Smoker's face went dark on the spot.
He'd assumed that with Rain's withdrawn personality, the two of them would be the only ones left over.
It was like Rain grew eyes in the back of his head. Without pausing his hands, he stabbed straight through him:
"Let me guess. You stood there all afternoon waiting for someone to beg you to team up, and by the time you finished posing, everyone else was already in a group except you."
"Bullshit!" Smoker exploded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "I just don't want to team with a bunch of garbage who can't keep up with me!"
Rain's smile widened slightly. He turned and leaned back against the desk by his bed, giving Smoker a very "I get it, man" look.
"Oh? Is that so? Then why not team up with your 'little sweetheart' Hina? She looks strong enough to be worthy of you."
"You—!" Smoker's face flushed dark red in an instant, veins popping at his temples.
He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked, and his glare screamed that he wanted to eat Rain alive.
But when he remembered the punch to his gut, he swallowed it back.
Rain glanced over and saw Smoker looking like he was about to explode but didn't dare, and felt quietly amused. Still, he decided not to push too far.
He shrugged and said, in a tone like he was just thinking out loud, "Anyway, our team's still short one. If you really can't find anyone and don't want to get dumped into Prep Class… I don't mind taking on one more freeloader."
The dorm fell into a long, suffocating silence.
Just when Rain thought the guy might actually stand there all night, Smoker finally moved.
He spun around, turned his back to Rain, and glared at the wall like it had personally wronged him. Through gritted teeth, he muttered something so quiet it was almost inaudible:
"…Fine… then count me in… okay…"
His voice was barely louder than a mosquito.
Rain didn't even pause in flipping his book, as if he'd heard nothing.
Just as Smoker started wondering if Rain hadn't caught it—
"Mm. No problem."
…
Early next morning, the massive Marine transport ship departed right on time.
After a full day and night at sea, a huge island shrouded in thin mist appeared at the edge of the recruits' vision.
The transport anchored several nautical miles from shore.
"Attention, all hands!" Zephyr's voice boomed across the entire ship through the broadcast Den Den Mushi. "Grab your packs, jump in, and make your own way to shore! Training begins now!"
As soon as the order came down, the deck exploded into motion.
Most recruits didn't hesitate, jumping into the sea one after another like dumplings into a pot.
The few Devil Fruit users in the crowd, however, were frozen in place with ugly expressions.
Out here, the powers they were so proud of became their biggest weakness.
In the end, every single one of them was forced to rely on their teammates' help, using all kinds of ridiculous methods to claw their way toward shore.
Only then did everyone truly understand why Zephyr had enforced the group rule—on the sea, no matter how strong you are, you still need comrades you can trust with your life.
"Damn it…" Smoker stared at the deep, endless water, face twisted.
He could fly low over the sea in elemental form—but the energy cost would be enormous. If he lost strength mid-way and dropped into the water, that would be the end.
While he was still hesitating, Rain had already secured his backpack and said calmly, "Grab my shoulder."
Smoker's face darkened to a bruised purple. "What do you take me for?!"
"A landlubber who can't swim," Rain replied flatly. "Unless you're planning to stand here until the instructor personally throws you overboard?"
Smoker instinctively wanted to snap back, but couldn't find the words. After a long second, he reluctantly reached out and put a hand on Rain's shoulder.
Rosinante, watching, immediately offered to carry Rain's pack, but Rain turned him down with a relaxed smile.
Dragging the deadweight that was Smoker, he hopped cleanly into the sea and swam toward shore at a steady, efficient pace that didn't strain him at all.
A few minutes later, the three of them stood on a small stretch of beach, dripping.
Rosinante dropped to the sand with a thud, panting so hard he could barely talk.
Smoker half-kneeled, hacking seawater out of his lungs. For a Devil Fruit user, the feeling of his whole body going limp in seawater was beyond miserable.
After he'd recovered a bit, Smoker looked up at the endless expanse of untouched jungle ahead—then finally turned his eyes to Rain, who stood completely at ease, like he'd just taken a stroll.
"So… what now?" he asked dryly.
Clearly, after this stretch of "friendly" interactions, he'd already started to subconsciously treat this very "ordinary" roommate as the de facto leader of their three-man squad.