The final test came without announcement.
They did not tell him who the opponent was.
They only said:
"Do not hold back."
Sanji stood in the stone arena, coat fluttering in the wind, leg already warm with quiet fire. His body felt different now. Lighter. Sharper. The world felt slower.
He knew he had changed.
He believed it.
Then the gate opened.
The man who walked in did not look impressive.
No crown. No makeup. No theatrics.
Just… presence.
The air felt heavier.
Sanji's instincts screamed.
"Begin," Ivankov said.
The man vanished.
Not moved.
Vanished.
Sanji's eyes widened.
He turned—
Too late.
Pain exploded in his ribs.
He flew.
Rolled.
Stopped.
"…What?"
He jumped back up.
Focused.
Waited.
Felt.
Sensed.
Nothing.
Then—
His vision shifted.
Pain hit his jaw.
Then his stomach.
Then his legs.
He couldn't see the attacks.
Couldn't feel the intent.
Couldn't read the space.
He was just… being dismantled.
He tried Diable Jambe.
The flame roared.
He stepped in—
—and kicked nothing.
The man was already somewhere else.
A blow crushed Sanji into the ground.
Cracks spread.
"…Tch…!"
He stood.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And every time—
He was too slow.
Not in body.
In existence.
Finally, he dropped to one knee, gasping, blood dripping from his mouth.
"…I got faster… didn't I?"
No one answered.
The man stopped.
Ivankov raised a hand.
"Enough."
The arena was silent.
Sanji was shaking.
"…What… was that?"
Ivankov looked at him.
"A New World standard."
The words cut deeper than any kick.
"…That's… normal?"
"Yes."
Sanji laughed.
A broken sound.
"…I trained like hell. I bled. I broke. I changed everything."
His hands trembled.
"…And that's still not enough?"
Ivankov did not soften his voice.
"No."
Something inside Sanji collapsed.
He stood up unsteadily.
"…Then what was the point?"
No answer.
His breathing started to shake.
His vision blurred.
"…What was the point of all this if I still can't—"
He remembered Luffy bleeding.
He remembered Kizaru's light.
He remembered disappearing.
His fists clenched.
"…I can't protect them."
The words came out small.
"…I still can't."
His chest started to hurt.
Not from injury.
From panic.
From fear.
From the realization that the gap was bigger than he could imagine.
He staggered back.
"…I'm not built for this."
Ivankov's eyes narrowed.
"Careful."
Sanji laughed again.
"…No. You know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just—"
His voice cracked.
"…Just a cook who kicks."
His breathing broke.
"…I don't belong in the New World."
Silence.
Then—
Sanji screamed.
Not in rage.
In despair.
He slammed his fist into the ground.
Again.
Again.
Again.
"…I can't reach them! I can't catch up! I can't—!"
His body started shaking violently.
Tears poured out.
"…No matter what I do… it's never enough…!"
He collapsed to his knees.
"…Zeff… I promised…"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"…I promised I'd protect them…"
He covered his face.
"…I lied."
The arena stayed silent.
Ivankov watched him.
Long.
Carefully.
Then said something terrifyingly calm:
"Good."
Sanji looked up, eyes red.
"…What?"
"Now you finally see the ocean you're trying to cross."
Ivankov stepped closer.
"You were training to win."
Ivankov's eyes sharpened.
"You need to train to survive hell."