Four years. It's been four long, grueling years since I traded my scavenger's rags for a Marine cadet's uniform.
People call me Don Krieg. To the world, I'm a rising star in the Navy. To myself? I'm just a guy with a gorilla face trying not to get murdered by the literal monsters inhabiting this timeline.
After basic training in the East Blue, I was shipped off to the big leagues: Marineford. The headquarters. The belly of the beast.
It was hard. So hard I considered deserting approximately three times a day. But I stuck it out, and as of today, I've officially climbed the ranks from recruit to Sergeant.
"Admiral" is still a distant dream, but hey, progress is progress. Though every time I remember that Coby and Helmeppo hit Chief Petty Officer and Sergeant in less than a year, I feel a sudden urge to punch a hole in a battleship.
Also, my peers still avoid me like the plague. Is it the face? It's definitely the face. I look like I'm about to commit a felony just by standing still.
"Whatever," I grunted, swinging my training weapon. "At least I'm getting stronger."
A Certain Marine's Perspective
"Look, the Sergeant Major is at it again with that thing..."
A group of junior Marines watched from a distance, wincing at the sound of whistling air. Krieg wasn't swinging a wooden sword or a standard-issue saber. He was wielding a massive, solid iron pillar—wider and heavier than a grown man.
Whirr. Whirr.
He handled the hunk of metal with one hand, the sheer centrifugal force kicking up dust clouds around his boots.
"He's terrifying," one private whispered. "He never talks, and when he does, he's blunt as a hammer. And he's so... compact."
"I heard he's only fourteen," another added. "Rumor has it he had a hellish childhood, which is why he's got that permanent scowl. (Note: He didn't.) They say his combat ability is already at Lieutenant level, despite his age."
"Yeah, I heard they're keeping him at Sergeant for now just because he's too young for a commission. But get this—Instructor Zephyr, the former Admiral, is going to take him under his wing personally."
"Woah. Talk about high expectations. I heard he can already use three of the Six Powers and has the strength of an ogre. Still... that face is pure villain material."
A Certain Instructor's Perspective
"Zephyr, I know you've just started as an instructor, but I want you to take this one."
Fleet Admiral Kong handed a file across the desk. Zephyr took it, skimming the details.
"A Sergeant? Rank frozen?"
"Due to his age," Kong grunted. "He's fourteen. On paper, he's a Sergeant, but in a brawl, he'd eat most Lieutenants for breakfast. He'll promote eventually."
Zephyr looked at the photo. A rugged, grim-faced boy from the East Blue. An orphan. Reason for joining: "I want the strength to protect."
He was already proficient in Tekkai (Iron Body), Shigan (Finger Pistol), and Geppo (Moonwalk). He favored a massive iron pillar as a weapon.
The report noted he was tireless in his training but possessed the social skills of a brick.
"Understood," Zephyr said. "I'll take him. For how long?"
"Make him your personal aide. Keep him for two or three years."
Back to Krieg
"Starting today, I'm your instructor, Zephyr! I'm going to beat that 'strength to protect' into your very bones, brat!"
...And that's how I ended up being personally tutored by a former Admiral.
HELP ME. I'M GOING TO DIE.
Zephyr is a monster. But as his nickname "Black Arm" suggests, he's the undisputed master of Armament Haki.
If I want to survive the New World, he's the best teacher I could ask for—even if his teaching style consists of "Don't think, feel!" and "Don't doubt!"
Fast forward another couple of years.
I'm now eighteen. It took a while because, frankly, I'm not a genius. But after six years of blood, sweat, and tears, I've finally mastered all of the Rokushiki (Six Powers) and obtained Haki. My Armament is solid; my Observation is... well, it passes. I've been promoted to Master Sergeant.
But man, comparing myself to the "Monster Trio" of the current Marines makes me want to cry. While I was struggling to learn how to kick the air, those three were skyrocketing through the ranks.
The Light Monster (Kizaru) is too fast to hit, and his beams melted my iron pillars like butter. The Magma Monster (Akainu) actually tried to kill me during sparring—his range is insane, and without Haki, I couldn't even touch him. The Ice Monster (Aokiji) was the "kindest," but my hands almost froze to my weapon every time I swung at him.
Facing Logia users made me realize I needed a literal edge. I marched down to the Science Division.
"Give me a sea-prism stone (Kairouseki) mace!" I demanded.
"Are you mocking me?!" the head researcher barked. "Kairouseki is a rare mineral that's harder than diamond and incredibly difficult to process! We can't just forge a giant club for a brat like you!"
Apparently, Smoker's Jitte was a special case, or maybe he just had better connections.
Fine. If I can't have the stone, I'll use my body. By now, I've hit my growth spurt—I'm over two meters tall and built like a brick shithouse.
A Training Session
"TEKKAI!" I roared.
BAM!
Zephyr's fist buried itself in my gut. I coughed up a bit of spit, the pain radiating through my core.
"Hey, you old geezer! Stop using Haki in training!"
"Shut up, brat! Your Tekkai is too slow! What's the point of having that massive frame if you can't tighten your muscles instantaneously? Do it again!"
I rubbed my bruised ribs, glaring at him with my best 'villain' scowl.
Zephyr watched me, hiding a small smirk. When he first took me on, he thought I was a natural prodigy. He eventually realized I wasn't.
Everything I had—the Six Powers, the strength—wasn't talent. It was the result of sheer, obsessive repetition. I had taught myself a distorted version of the Six Powers through trial and error, and Zephyr had to spend a year just fixing my form.
But then, I did something weird. Most people use Tekkai and stay still. I decided that was stupid.
"If I can move my arm for a Shigan while using Tekkai, why can't I move my whole body?" I argued.
I developed "Tekkai Kenpo"—fighting while maintaining the iron-hard density of Tekkai. Zephyr called me an idiot, saying Shigan only hardens the finger, but I didn't care. I forced it to work through sheer physical grit.
I'm Don Krieg. I might have the face of a gorilla and the luck of a secondary antagonist, but I'm going to be the toughest wall in the Navy.