Holding the 5,000 Berries in hand, Trace found himself at a rare loss for words.
But hesitation only lasted a moment—he quickly tossed another F-rank bait into the dimensional sea. Instant hit.
[Fishing Result: Item]
[F-Rank Item: Treasure Map]
[Description: A map pointing to treasure hidden somewhere on Drum Island.]
[Effect: Value ranges from 10 Berries to 10,000 Berries, typically around 100 Berries.]
[Item Evaluation: "It's not about the money—it's about the thrill of the hunt."]
"You've got to be kidding me!"
Smack! Trace slammed the yellowed parchment map to the ground with force.
"This is worse than 5,000 straight cash!"
Feeling mocked by the invisible hand of Lady Luck, Trace angrily gave up on fishing for the night.
Terrible luck today. Try again tomorrow.
With 20 F-rank baits still left, he decided not to fuse them just yet—he'd see how much he could harvest after another round of fish-slaying tomorrow.
Stuffing his "50 Choppers' worth" of cash into his pocket, Trace hit the bed and instantly knocked out.
---
The Next Morning.
Trace woke up early and headed for the mess hall kitchen, excited to start another joyful day of fish-butchering.
But the kitchen supervisor stopped him cold—the day's work shift had him scheduled for afternoon.
According to the supervisor, Navy recruits were here to train and grow stronger, not to chop fish all day.
Besides, daily chore shifts for marines weren't allowed to exceed three hours!
"This is the Elite Marine Training Camp, not a galley crew boot camp!"
Trace totally agreed with that logic.
But... he just really wanted to kill fish.
Too bad that logic didn't help.
With his early-morning "Victory Bait farming" session canceled, a sulking Trace headed to the mess hall front.
His bad mood killed his appetite.
At breakfast, he only ate enough for ten people.
Even so, other recruits gave him stunned looks, whispering quietly.
"Is that him?"
"He's eating so little today~"
After breakfast, most marines headed to their respective training areas. Trace, meanwhile, took the opportunity to explore the warship.
Thanks to Zephyr's handwritten permission slip—which also allowed him kitchen access—he had free reign to wander the ship.
So he did just that, using the opportunity to familiarize himself with life in the Elite Training Camp.
First stop: the forward deck.
An open, spacious area with great visibility, where many marines gathered for group training.
There, Trace spotted a familiar figure—Hina, the pink-haired Navy girl.
He gave her a slight nod. His gaze briefly passed over the gray-haired young man beside her—then he turned and walked away.
"Hina, that's the guy Zephyr brought on board, right?" Smoker nodded toward Trace's retreating back, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"His name is Trace," Hina said, correcting him. "Not 'that guy.'"
Noticing Smoker's subtle excitement, she raised a brow.
"Smoker, what are you thinking? Hina's curious."
Smoker took a deep breath, a wisp of smoke escaping from his nostrils like a white serpent.
"Nothing much. Just curious what kind of person could survive a fight with Kaido of the Beasts. If I get the chance…"
Hina tilted her head. "Hmm?"
"I want to challenge him."
---
Naturally, Trace had no idea that just a single appearance had earned him a future challenger—one who happened to be a nearly unbeatable Logia-type user in Paradise.
At that moment, he was still wandering around the ship.
After leaving the forward deck, Trace toured multiple training halls: hand-to-hand combat, swordsmanship, marksmanship, and more. He came into close contact with many elite recruits.
What he saw left him both surprised and pleased.
Surprised by how well-developed and thorough the Navy's training system was. Pleased… for the same reason.
He was sure that once he officially joined the program, he'd quickly grow into a qualified warrior of the seas.
The training camp also gave him a chance to patch up his biggest shortcomings—especially his lack of actual combat experience.
No longer would he be that guy who only knew how to hammer zombies with a rusty spike club.
Interacting with so many elite marines also gave Trace a rough sense of where he currently stood among them.
Above average, but not top tier.
And that was with help from his traits [Primal Body] and [Beast Breathing]!
Despite his jaw-dropping combat history, Trace's actual strength wasn't nearly as flashy.
The training camp had gathered the most monstrous newcomers from all across the sea.
And let's not forget—Smoker, a Logia-type Devil Fruit user, was among them.
For someone like Trace, who didn't yet understand Haki, going up against a Logia user would be a nightmare.
"Good thing I won't have to face a full assessment right away after joining… I'd be exposed in minutes."
With a hidden sigh of relief, Trace left the shooting range and continued his exploration.
By lunchtime, aside from a few restricted areas, Trace had toured almost the entire warship—thanks to Zephyr's note.
The amount of insight gained was considerable.
---
While Trace was happily demolishing his lunch, a private call was taking place in the Navy warship's command office.
"Tsuru, has HQ finalized its stance on the so-called 'Seven Warlords of the Sea' system yet?"
Seated behind his desk, Zephyr spoke to the transponder snail before him.
The snail's face mimicked that of an elderly female marine—sharp-eyed and commanding.
This was Vice Admiral Tsuru, Chief Strategist of Navy HQ and a firm believer in "Righteous Justice."
"…Yes," she sighed.
"HQ was almost turned upside down by Sakazuki's magma. And surprisingly, even Aokiji backed him this time."
"Expected," Zephyr grunted. "And what about that guy?"
"You mean Borsalino?"
Tsuru immediately caught on to who he meant.
Sakazuki (Akainu), Borsalino (Kizaru), and Kuzan (Aokiji) were the three young powerhouses the old guard had unanimously acknowledged as the future of the Navy.
But each came with their own baggage.
Sakazuki? Too extreme.
Kuzan? Too laid-back.
Borsalino? Too slippery.
They were all terrifyingly powerful monsters—but also headaches to manage.
"The usual," Tsuru said. "He refuses to express any opinion."
"Hmph."
Zephyr let out another heavy snort.
Tsuru knew Zephyr's opinion of Kizaru, but paid it no mind.
"Your ship should be nearing Little Garden, right?"
"That's right."
"The Warlord system… well, HQ can't oppose it anymore. So we need to start thinking about suitable candidates."
We can't say no—but we can still play some cards under the table…
Zephyr immediately caught the meaning behind her words.
Coincidentally, he'd already been considering a candidate. The only problem was… that person might be a bit too weak.
"…So what's your plan, Tsuru?"
"I recall Little Garden houses two very powerful giants. Former captains of the Giant Warrior Pirates from over a hundred years ago. In terms of strength and reputation, they're more than qualified for Warlord status. And…"
"And they're docile—unlikely to stir up trouble!"
Zephyr clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking like distant thunder.
"I'll try to persuade those two giants myself."