"Before Vice Admiral Sakazuki departed, he told me that Branch 166 of the North Blue Marines has the strongest combat will, but they lacked proper training methods to develop your full potential."
"However, during my research in the East Blue, I developed some training methods that Vice Admiral Sakazuki highly approved of during our discussions. In the coming days, I will entrust these methods to Captain Cleveland."
"Train hard and live up to Vice Admiral Sakazuki's expectations of you!"
With these words, Raleigh took out two bound notebooks from his chest.
One contained his simplified version of the Marine Six Styles, while the other detailed the Three-Man Cell Tactics and Line Infantry Tactics.
The former could enhance individual combat capabilities, while the latter was an unparalleled weapon for group warfare.
In this backward era, advanced tactics could significantly reduce friendly casualties.
Perhaps due to the superhuman strength prevalent in this world, where top-tier fighters could single-handedly rival entire armies, most people focused on improving personal power rather than studying tactics.
Raleigh privately scoffed at the military tactics employed in the One Piece world.
Naval battles against pirates essentially boiled down to leaders fighting leaders.
Victory solely depended on whether one's top-tier combatants were strong enough to prevail.
Still, the Marines held advantages over pirates—pirates lacked organization and logistical support, with inferior artillery and weaponry.
The only noteworthy aspect was that pirates were essentially desperadoes.
They approached every battle with a death-defying mentality, making them incredibly difficult to break.
However, pirates generally accumulated numerous hidden physical injuries.
Even the world's strongest man, Whitebeard, experienced rapid physical decline after passing his prime. The Marines excelled in this regard, with many naval officers maintaining their peak combat effectiveness far longer than pirates.
"This... is this for me?"
Cleveland's excited voice interrupted Raleigh's reverie as he eagerly extended both hands.
He had seen Raleigh's two disciples—unusually powerful despite their youth.
After speaking with Miles, he learned the young man had only trained under Raleigh for a short period.
Moreover, it was said that Gion and Tokikake had also received guidance from Raleigh.
Though Raleigh's true strength remained unclear, judging by his subordinates' capabilities, he was undoubtedly a terrifyingly powerful officer.
"Yes, take them. I require you to ensure these soldiers master at least three of the Marine Six Styles within one month."
"Yes, sir!" Cleveland took the notebook from Raleigh's hands and solemnly saluted him.
In the strictest sense, only the most outstanding individuals could receive formal training at headquarters.
Cleveland had not yet been to headquarters for advanced training.
Since going to Marine Headquarters in the Grand Line was too troublesome, the Marine forces across the Four Seas were largely left to their own devices.
The training methods depended entirely on how the commanding officers arranged them.
Most of the time, they just went through the motions.
While Cleveland was enthusiastically training the soldiers, Raleigh, lying on the sofa reading a book, had no idea that in the Kingdom of Totteneys, someone was investigating the truth behind the king's murder.
.....
Kingdom of Totteneys, Marines Branch 127.
On the training ground, a short-haired female Marine soldier was training.
Though drenched in sweat, her eyes shone with unwavering determination.
The other Marines on the training ground, seeing this, began to discuss among themselves.
"Bell-mère has been training so hard lately. Every time, she pushes herself until she collapses."
"Yeah, but speaking of which, Bell-mère's strength has improved really fast. If it weren't for her last time, we would've been in big trouble."
"I think I know her techniques—they're the Marines' secret arts, the Marine Six Styles."
Ever since Bell-mère received the manual Raleigh gave her, she had been training with all her might.
Her diligent training, combined with the simplified Six Styles, allowed Bell-mère to achieve remarkable feats, capturing many notorious pirates.
Now promoted to Petty Officer First Class, Bell-mère had not forgotten Raleigh's teachings.
She vividly remembered him telling her that the power of justice should not be so weak.
Huff… huff… huff…
Exhaling, Bell-mère came to a stop.
She had finished her physical training and would next continue studying the Six Styles.
"Bell-mère!"
"The branch commander wants to see you. Stop your training and head to the conference room right away," a uniformed messenger ran into the training ground, shouting loudly.
"Huh? What does the branch commander want with me?" Bell-mère casually picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from her forehead, then put on her uniform.
After walking a short stone-paved path, Bell-mère entered the base's office building.
Before she even stepped inside, she saw the branch commander waiting at the conference room door, as if there were important guests inside.
The straightforward Bell-mère asked directly, "Captain Duncan, what did you need me for?"
Duncan quickly gestured to Bell-mère, then quietly approached.
"I'm not sure what it's about, but there are people from the World Government inside—members of CP. I suspect it might be related to the incident a while ago when the Mad Blade Pirates killed the king of the Kingdom of Totteneys. They're probably here to investigate."
"When you go in, don't speak carelessly. Think carefully before you say anything. If you don't want to answer, you can remain silent. We're part of the Marines, not under CP's jurisdiction, so don't be afraid."
After giving Bell-mère these instructions, Duncan waited until she nodded seriously before letting her enter.
As the conference room door opened, the scene inside was revealed.
For some reason, even though it was a familiar place, it gave Bell-mère the feeling of stepping into a beast's den.
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped.
Seated in the main position was a man wearing a CP uniform.
He wasn't very old—only around thirty.
But the sense of danger he gave Bell-mère far exceeded any Marine she had ever known.
"Petty Officer First Class Bell-mère, is it? I have some questions for you."
A cold voice carried through the air, seemingly imbued with an undeniable authority.
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