Gumir's deep voice echoed through the training hall, and the Marine recruits immediately snapped to attention, forming ten orderly squads.
The moment Gumir appeared, many recruits visibly stiffened.
Fear flickered in their eyes.
At Marine Headquarters, aside from the chief instructor, former admiral Zephyr, there were four subordinate instructors. All four were retired vice admirals or rear admirals.
And among those four, Gumir was infamous for being the strictest.
Unlike the others, he did not retire due to age. He retired because of severe injuries. That was why his personality was so harsh. Any recruit who made a mistake would be beaten half to death. Even normal training under him was notoriously brutal.
"Recruit Ron, join Squad Ten… Wait."
Gumir turned toward Ron, who had not yet joined the lines. Something seemed to cross his mind.
"You. Come here first."
Ron silently stepped forward.
Gumir didn't look at him. Instead, he swept his sharp gaze across all the recruits until the entire hall fell quiet under his pressure.
"Today's task is to review the Navy's Six Styles that I have taught you over the past months, and you will apply them in real combat."
His eyes shifted to Ron.
"Ron, since you do not know the Six Styles, you will join me for a demonstration match. I will attack using the Six Styles. You are permitted to use any method you wish to defend or retaliate."
Pfft.
The moment his words fell, several recruits twitched at the mouth.
A wave of sympathetic silence washed over the room.
Unlucky.
Very, very unlucky.
If it had been any other instructor, things would be fine. The others usually held back when sparring. But Gumir?
If he fights, someone bleeds.
Light cases ended with bruises.
Serious ones were carried to the medical team.
"A demonstration match…?"
Ron's eyes widened.
Then they lit up with excitement.
Yes.
Yes!
The chance to cut loose was finally here.
The recruits below watched him with pity, completely misunderstanding his expression.
Poor guy.
He probably thinks he's about to learn something meaningful.
A demonstration from Instructor Gumir was a lesson carved onto the body. In pain.
"Ready? Then we'll begin."
"The basis of the Six Styles is Soru…"
Gumir stood ten meters from Ron, speaking calmly.
In the next instant, he vanished.
The ground beneath him exploded outward.
He reappeared at Ron's right side, driving a kick toward Ron's shoulder while continuing to lecture:
"You use the burst of speed from Soru to strike before the enemy can react. Even if it cannot defeat them, it forces an opening."
Bang!
The kick struck Ron's shoulder. Ron had only begun to raise his arm and turn slightly when the blow landed.
"After creating an opening, use Soru to continue attacking and— hmm?"
Gumir suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Because Ron… did not move.
The powerful kick had not sent him flying. His body only shook slightly, as if he had been nudged rather than struck. Instead, it felt like Gumir had kicked a block of stone.
Gumir's eyes narrowed in surprise.
Yes, the first kick was light. He had been testing Ron's endurance. But even then, Ron should have staggered. Instead, he didn't budge.
A strange silence settled over the hall.
After two seconds, Gumir regained his composure.
"Good. Your body is tougher than I expected. If you train Iron Body, you might master it quickly."
He took a step back, preparing to strike again with more force.
But before he even moved—
Ron attacked first.
Having used Stone Skin to endure Gumir's light blow, Ron pivoted, his hand sliding into his sleeve and drawing out a crystal wand. The moment his fingers closed around it, he swung.
Violent Wind Slash.
Seven or eight Wind Blades, each nearly two meters long, burst into existence. They wove a chaotic, lethal web across the air and swept toward Gumir. Even before reaching him, the pressure alone felt sharp enough to break skin.
Gumir's face transformed.
He instantly stomped the ground, blasting backward with explosive force.
Whoosh!
The Wind Blades tore across the ground, carving deep trenches. They flew for dozens of meters before fading away.
Gumir appeared on the opposite side of the hall.
His right sleeve, and even the Marine cloak embroidered with the word "Justice," had a large, torn gash.
The recruits stared.
Then their jaws fell open.
What… was that?!
…
"A slashing attack? No… a Devil Fruit ability?"
Gumir's expression shifted several times as he observed Ron.
His first guess had been that Ron executed some form of sword aura. But Ron was not holding a blade, and the motion he made was nothing like a swordsman.
"I see… so it's not physical strength."
Gumir's thoughts clicked into place. A recruit with only twenty-seven points in the entrance exam could never be called the strongest in the East Blue.
But if he had a Devil Fruit, the equation changed completely.
The recruits also gradually understood.
A Devil Fruit user.
That explained everything.
New recruits often included Devil Fruit users. There was no clear division of whether Devil Fruits were stronger than physical arts. Everyone knew that master-level physical techniques could absolutely compete with Devil Fruits.
Gumir straightened and resumed his lecture.
"There is no shortage of Devil Fruit users on this sea. But with the Six Styles, even if you face one, you can still fight evenly or even defeat them."
His body blurred the moment he finished speaking.
He vanished again.
He reappeared on Ron's left side.
Soru.
Finger Gun.
Now that he understood Ron was a Devil Fruit user, and having felt the power behind that Wind Slash, Gumir no longer held back. He unleashed seventy to eighty percent of his true power.
He still wasn't using Haki, but even so, most lieutenant commanders and commanders would be unable to survive this blow.
Gumir had once been a Headquarters Rear Admiral, a powerful one at that. He lost four fingers in a brutal battle, and after retiring due to that injury, he refused to leave the Marines entirely, choosing instead to become an instructor.
"Finger Gun…"
"Instructor Gumir is getting serious."
The recruits watched with unblinking eyes.
They had expected Ron to be crushed. Instead, he was strong enough to force Gumir to fight seriously.
"Still… if the instructor is serious, Ron is going to suffer."
Some recruits shuddered as they recalled what happened to the last man who challenged Gumir.
That poor soul had been beaten half to death.
Ron's turn, they assumed, was coming next.
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