Over the next few days, Rain's cave slowly evolved from a quiet campsite into a "pirate buyback station" and "central kitchen."
The first deal was completed on the evening of the third day.
Hina's squad kept their end of the bargain. Dragging two pirates with broken legs, trussed up like rice dumplings, they appeared outside the waterfall.
Rain calmly checked the "goods," then handed over three portions of sizzling, leaf-wrapped roast meat.
After two days of barely eating, Hina and her teammates were moved to tears as they ate.
The news spread like a virus among the starving recruits who'd been living on bugs and half-burnt meat.
"Did you hear? There's a mess hall in a cave behind a waterfall, and the food is insanely good!"
"He trades pirates for food! Real roast meat! With spices!"
"How many portions for one pirate?"
Starting from the fourth day, more and more teams began coming to him on their own. They dragged half-dead pirates to the cave entrance and lined them up on the ground, like laborers waiting to collect their wages.
Rain became the man at the top of the food chain on the island.
He even created a clear "exchange rate"—the stronger the pirate, the more portions of meat they could be traded in for.
The entire survival training ecosystem on the island was completely reshaped by one person.
As pirates—the hard currency—grew scarcer, conflict even started breaking out among the recruits.
Deep in the jungle, two different squads stumbled upon a small pirate crew of three at the same time.
Before the pirates even processed what was happening, the two Marine squads were already throwing punches over who got the "walking dinners."
"We saw them first! These three servings are ours!"
"Bullshit! We had them surrounded! You're not stealing our meat!"
The three pirates squatted in place, utterly dumbfounded, watching two groups of Marines beat each other bloody over them. Their worldview shattered.
"Since when are Marines this desperate? There's going after results, and then there's this…"
Rain watched the commotion from afar, the corner of his mouth curling in amusement.
Tsk, a perfect little market economy model. When a resource gets scarce, its value skyrockets and you get vicious competition. If Zephyr found out I turned his survival training into a practical econ class, he'd probably blow a gasket.
By the evening of the twelfth day, a long line had formed outside Rain's cave as usual.
Recruits from all over were "handing in homework," tossing their tightly bound pirates on the ground and waiting for the "cafeteria" to open.
Rain glanced at the endless list of N- and R-rank pirate judgments on his system panel and yawned, bored.
All small fry. Their Sin Index isn't bad, but they don't give me anything valuable. This training is way too safe—did the instructors clear out all the real threats?
Just as he thought that, his instinctive Observation Haki picked up a different signal.
A presence radiating pure killing intent and the stench of blood flared on the far side of the island—like a beacon in the dark.
This was not the kind of training-dummy pirate the recruits had been fighting.
Rain's hand paused ever so slightly as he handed out meat.
He slowly lifted his head, eyes turning toward the black jungle, a hint of puzzlement on his face.
What's this? A pirate of that level here… isn't that a bit much for a bunch of trainees?
Or is there someone strong lurking in the shadows, ready to step in and "guide" them on the razor's edge between life and death?
…
On the Grand Line, in an unknown sea wrapped in dense fog—
A Marine warship cut through the waves, its deck packed with tense, vigilant Marines. The air was thick with killing intent.
Gion stood at the bow, sea breeze combing through her silky black hair, a few playful strands clinging to her smooth cheek.
Over her shoulders hung a pure-white Justice coat. Beneath it, instead of a standard Marine uniform, she wore a fitted pale pink shirt and white slacks that perfectly outlined a body with runway-model proportions.
At her long, straight legs rested her beloved blade—"Kinchō."
The face that could drive countless men crazy held no laziness or flirtation now—only a serious focus.
A lieutenant, still marked with dried blood on his face, hurried over and snapped a perfect salute, his voice full of genuine awe.
"Reporting, Rear Admiral Gion! The target—Skull-Splitter Pirates—used the morning fog to flee northwest. We've now completely lost track of their ship."
"Tch. A bunch of sly rats." Gion's elegant brows knitted slightly.
She tapped a slender finger on the cold railing. They'd lost sight of the enemy ship since that morning, but confirming total loss of contact still left a bitter taste.
Her lieutenant looked at this young superior with deep respect.
She was only twenty-five, yet already one of the youngest rear admirals at Headquarters.
In yesterday's battle, she had practically crushed the enemy single-handedly.
Facing "Skull-Splitter" Kost, a pirate with a 90-million-Berry bounty, she'd cut him—and his blade—in half in under ten moves.
If not for the freak fog, that whole mid-tier infamous crew on the Grand Line would already be in chains.
"Ma'am, look." The lieutenant spread out a chart and pointed to a blank patch of sea. "There are no supply islands in this area. The nearest port is a thousand kilometers away. The only place they could go… is that uninhabited island near Headquarters—'Gigantia.' If they make it there, with their ship damaged, they'll be trapped."
"Gigantia…"
Gion nodded and was about to give the order—then that name tugged at something in her memory.
"Wait." She stopped the lieutenant, her tone turning sharp. "Patch us through to Marineford's emergency channel. Now."
A few minutes later, upon hearing that the Elite Training Camp was currently conducting survival training on Gigantia, her face changed.
"This is bad."
She immediately gave the highest-priority order. "Full speed ahead! Target: Gigantia!"
…
Meanwhile, on the island, in the waterfall cave—
Rain stopped handing out meat, focusing his senses carefully on that new, powerful presence soaked in killing intent and blood.
Thankfully, because it was mealtime, most of the recruits on the island were gathered around his cave. The uninvited guests probably hadn't realized they weren't alone yet.
He picked up a cup of hot tea, took a slow sip, then handed over the food-distribution duty to Rosinante, who was busy keeping headcount.
"Cover for me," Rain said quietly. "Hand it out according to contribution. Don't mess it up."
Under the puzzled stares of the others, he mumbled something about "going to take a leak"—then his figure flickered and melted into the jungle shadows without a sound.
He moved through the night-shrouded forest like a ghost, grass and leaves brushing against him without making a whisper.
Soon, he reached a cliff overlooking a likely landing point for the new arrivals. From his ring, he pulled out a high-powered telescope.
Through the lens, he saw a scene that made his brows knit together.
~~~
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