20 early chapters on Pátreon.com/Herd99
Got any spare Powerstones I could borrow?
-
The early morning sun hung low over the Marine base, its light spilling across the empty training field.
There was a stillness in the air — not the peaceful kind, but the kind that comes right before someone gets punched in the face.
Kain stood at one end of the field, coat half-buttoned, hair uncombed, and hands stuffed into his pockets like he'd rather be anywhere else. He rocked slightly on his heels, more bored than tense.
At the opposite end, Captain Smoker was the picture of contrast — back straight, arms crossed, jitte slung across his shoulder, a cigar already burning even though the day had barely begun.
"You ready to lose?" Smoker called out, voice as rough as ever.
Kain stifled a yawn. "Ready to go back to bed. Let's get this over with."
A quiet circle of Marines had gathered along the sidelines. No cheers, no shouts — just quiet anticipation. Everyone knew this wasn't a sparring match. It was something heavier. Something personal.
Smoker stepped forward, smoke trailing off his shoulders like steam from a boiling pot. The ground beneath him stirred as his body began to shift — not fully, just enough to blur his outline, to remind everyone exactly what kind of opponent he was.
Kain rolled his shoulders and took one step forward. The familiar black sheen of Armament Haki bloomed faintly across his fists, subtle but sure. Not flashy. Just enough to say yes, I can hit you now.
The air tensed. A breath held by everyone watching.
Then they moved.
The second Rematch begun.
Kain was the first to strike. A Haki-coated jab, fast and quiet — aimed not to destroy, but to test.
Smoker blocked it with his forearm, the clang of Haki meeting Haki ringing out like metal on metal.
Kain froze mid-step. "Wait… you know Haki too?"
Smoker smirked. "What, you thought I'd been playing fair this whole time?"
Kain groaned. "Of course. Because why wouldn't you also unlock endgame powers?"
Another burst of smoke, and Smoker vanished in a blur, reappearing behind Kain. Kain barely ducked the jitte swing, rolled out of range, and fired back with a Lazy Dragon's Roar — a compressed blast of energy that crackled through the air and forced Smoker to block.
Shockwaves spilled across the field, rustling coats and knocking a few Marines back a step. Dust kicked up in a wide arc. Two Lieutenants nearly lost their footing.
The crowd fell silent again. Even the birds seemed to hold their breath.
It had officially turned into a slugfest.
Minutes passed. Each blow louder than the last. Each dodge tighter, each counter faster. There were no tricks anymore. No lazy openings. Just raw movement — equal parts instinct and experience.
Kain's coat was torn at the shoulder. Smoker had a gash on his cheek, steam curling from it.
Neither spoke for a long while.
Finally, after another clash left both men breathing harder than they wanted to admit, Kain took a step back and raised a hand.
"That's enough," he said, voice tired but steady. "Let's call it a draw."
Smoker didn't lower his stance. "You're giving up?"
"Not giving up," Kain said, wiping sweat from his brow. "I'm conserving energy."
Smoker raised an eyebrow.
Kain glanced at the Marines watching them, then back at Smoker. "Look. You want a second-in-command who can match your ideals. Who fights for something bigger than themselves."
He nodded toward the sidelines. "Tashigi's the one you want. She's got drive, discipline, and the kind of belief in justice that doesn't break under pressure."
Smoker's frown deepened. "You're saying she's stronger than you?"
"No," Kain said. "I'm saying she's better for you."
He took a slow breath, for once not sounding sarcastic or tired — just honest. "I joined the Marines because I had nowhere else to go. I'm not here to change the world. I'm just trying to do my job, do it well enough to stay out of the spotlight, and sleep without regret."
That hit different.
Even Smoker was quiet for a moment.
Around them, the younger Marines started whispering.
"He's so humble..."
"He doesn't even want power…"
"True justice is quiet, huh?"
Kain blinked, already regretting saying anything heartfelt.
Smoker finally exhaled. "You really are a pain."
"Tell me something I don't know."
Smoker turned his gaze to Tashigi, who stood at the front of the crowd, wide-eyed. He nodded once.
"Fine its a draw. For now."
"Aaand?" Kain pressed.
"And I'll promote her. But only because she's resourceful. Not because you told me to."
Kain gave a slow, satisfied nod. "Good. Then I guess I don't have to fight anyone else today. Thank Oda."
He turned and limped off the field, muttering something about bruised ribs and wasted mornings.
The dust had barely settled on the training field when Kain disappeared behind the barracks.
Tashigi watched him go, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted. She'd seen him fight before — efficient, frustrating, always holding back. But this time, there had been something different. He hadn't been showing off. He wasn't trying to win. He was… making a point.
And he did it for her. He really had changed.
The crowd began to disperse slowly, murmuring amongst themselves. A few Marines clapped Tashigi on the back, others gave her small nods of respect. She adjusted her glasses, still trying to process what had just happened.
At the far end of the field, Smoker lit another cigar, eyes fixed on the empty spot where Kain had stood. His jitte rested against his shoulder, forgotten. Smoke drifted upward in slow spirals.
"He meant every word," Smoker muttered to no one in particular. "Lazy bastard."
Kain found the first empty bench he could and collapsed onto it, legs stretched out, arms folded under his head. His coat was half-off, drifting lazily in the breeze. His shirt was stained with sweat, and one boot was untied.
He looked like someone who'd just finished filing paperwork, not gone toe-to-toe with a Logia user.
Then the voice rang in his head.
[System Notification]
-"Dramatic Exit" Detected!: +250 BSP.
-"Inspiring Speech" Bonus: +250 BSP.
-"Character Growth" Achieved!: +250 BPS.
Kain sighed.
"System," he muttered, staring up at the sky. "Can you please stop rewarding me for being sincere?"
[System Response: No.]
"I figured."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled rice ball he forgot he had. It was cold, but food was food. He chewed in silence, eyes half-lidded, trying not to think about what would come next.
Because nothing good ever came after a moment like that. His instincts about these things were never wrong.
The next day, the mess hall was unusually quiet.
Tashigi entered alone, still in uniform, still processing yesterday's events. A few Marines looked up and nodded. No one dared bring up the training field, though. It felt like something sacred — something that wasn't theirs to talk about.
She spotted Kain in the corner, one foot up on the table, sipping coffee like he hadn't shaken the foundation of her career a day ago.
She sat down across from him.
He raised a brow. "No celebration speech, Lieutenant Tashigi?"
"I didn't ask for this." she said quietly with mixed feelings about her promotion
He nodded. "Neither did I. Fortunately I dodged that bullet at your expense. That reminds me, did I say thanks?"
Tashigi was too unfocused to glare at him, so they just sat in silence for a while. The kind that isn't awkward — just calm. Two people too tired to pretend.
"You really think I'm ready?" she asked.
"No," Kain replied honestly. "But you will be."
She looked down, hiding a small smile.
"…Thanks."
He sipped his coffee and let the moment pass, already thinking about how to dodge the next stack of paperwork Smoker would inevitably throw at him. Now that Tashigi was a Lieutenant, she would be directly working under Smoker. Meaning Kain would have to do the work he normally threw at Tashigi by himself.
Why again did he recommend her?
-
Inside Smoker's office, the Transponder Snail blinked quietly, its eye scanning the replay of the fight. It caught the sound of fists, the clarity of Kain's words, and the subtle silence that followed.
The dials were transmitting.
Not locally.
But to Marine HQ.
And someone, somewhere higher up, was taking notes.