"I get it."
Shiryu looked deeply at Nao, then lowered his voice. "That guy's seriously strong. Be careful."
He wasn't exaggerating.
From their short clash, Shiryu had gotten a clear grasp of Onigumo's strength—an overwhelming gap in both physical ability and swordsmanship, topped with the guy's proficient use of Observation Haki to read his moves effortlessly.
Someone like that was simply beyond what a first-year recruit could realistically handle.
Nao might be stronger than him, sure. But defeating Onigumo outright? Still unlikely.
But landing a solid hit… that should be doable. And that alone would be enough to shut him up and make him take back those arrogant remarks.
"Relax."
Nao smiled as he gave Shiryu a firm thump on the chest.
Shiryu immediately doubled over, coughing violently, and glared at him like he'd been betrayed by a trusted friend.
Nao ignored the look and walked forward with calm, steady steps, stopping in front of Onigumo.
"Oh? Another one?"
Onigumo looked down from his perch, cigarette in mouth, eyeing Nao with open disdain. "Tch. Got the guts to show up after that beating? What—think you're tougher than the big guy over there?"
"Big guy," naturally, referred to Shiryu.
Onigumo had actually gained a bit of respect for him during their fight. He figured the guy was probably the strongest in this year's batch of recruits.
And now here came another one—this pretty boy the other kids kept calling "Nao." Compared to Shiryu's intimidating presence, Nao didn't even look like a fighter.
Young. Average-looking. No edge, no aura. Nothing about him screamed 'strong.'
That was why Onigumo didn't take him seriously in the slightest.
With a mocking grin, he said, "Same deal as before. Use whatever means you want. If you can hurt me, even a scratch, I'll take back everything I said. What do you say, kid? Think you're up to it?"
"You really think we need your approval to prove ourselves?"
Nao casually flipped his right wrist, and his wind-forged blade snapped into his palm. His other hand moved toward the sheathed Azakana blade at his side.
"So let's skip the small talk," he said coolly. "Draw your sword."
Onigumo had severely underestimated him.
From the moment Nao stepped forward, he had no intention of playing by Onigumo's rules.
Just scratching the guy wasn't enough. He wanted to win—cleanly, convincingly, completely.
It wasn't a blind boast, either.
Even if Onigumo had the edge in swordsmanship and combat experience, Nao's sheer physical superiority would more than make up for the gap.
"Hah! Now this is funny."
Onigumo laughed rather than getting angry. He eyed the sword in Nao's hands, then—with an exaggerated sigh—reached up and slid his own sword back into its sheath.
"I've had enough of sword duels for today," he said, cracking his knuckles. "This time, I'll beat some respect into you with raw fists. Just so you understand what it means to pick a fight with a real Marine."
No swords. Just hand-to-hand?
Nao blinked. He'd already drawn both blades, but now he was just… confused.
"Wait—what?"
He gave Onigumo a curious glance, then grinned and shrugged.
"Well, if that's how the senior wants it… I'll return the favor."
With that, he re-sheathed both his swords.
Then he raised one finger and crooked it in Onigumo's direction.
A casual, wordless taunt.
"You little…"
That finally did it.
Onigumo's expression darkened as fury surged through him. With a roar, he lunged forward like a wild beast, fist cocked, and threw a punch straight at Nao's chest.
"Try brushing this off!"
Boom!
The punch landed clean—Nao made no effort to dodge. For a moment, his chest caved in slightly from the force… but just as quickly, it bounced back.
He didn't budge.
Nao stood there like a statue, not even flinching. He looked at Onigumo with faint amusement and said:
"Come on, old man. That all you've got?"
What…?
Onigumo's eyes widened in disbelief.
But he wasn't done yet. With another bellow, he surged forward and threw a second punch—twice as hard as the first.
The air cracked with the force of it.
And still… Nao didn't move.
He tilted his head and gave Ghost Spider a puzzled look.
"I said hit me, not tickle me."
Then, with a playful smirk: "If this is all it takes to call yourself one of Zephyr-sensei's students, maybe we should raise the standard."
Around the field, the recruits burst out laughing.
A bunch of the female recruits practically swooned on the spot, stars in their eyes. Some of them had been nervous when they saw Nao put his swords away, worried he'd end up like Shiryu—flattened in one-sided fashion.
But now?
He was standing there, tanking hits like it was nothing—and taunting the guy while he was at it.
"Go, Nao-kun!"
"He's amazing!"
"He didn't even move! Is he made of steel?!"
On the sidelines, Momonga and the other senior officers exchanged glances, clearly surprised.
That kind of durability… even among them, few could take a punch from Onigumo head-on like that.
This new recruit was a monster.
"Impressive," said Strawberry, stroking his long beard thoughtfully. "Looks like Onigumo's finally met his match."
The rest of the officers nodded, their gazes sharpening with interest as they focused on the match below.
Back on the field—
"You damn brat…"
Onigumo's expression darkened further. Two full-force punches—and nothing. Not even a step back.
His pride took a hit, and so did his confidence.
He had written this kid off as weak—clearly, a mistake.
With that kind of freakish endurance and raw defense… it was obvious now. This was the strongest recruit of the current class.
He'd misread the situation completely.
And now, without weapons, just trading blows—he couldn't treat this like a game anymore.
Just then, Nao's calm voice reached his ears again.
"What's wrong, Onigumo-senpai?"
He smiled faintly.
"I've been waiting, you know. But if you're done…"
He rolled his neck, shoulders loosening.
"…then I guess it's my turn."
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin