Three months flew by in the blink of an eye.
For the rest of the sea, though, this span felt unusually long and suffocating.
First, the "Pirate King" Gol D. Roger surrendered himself to the Marines. Not long after, the "Flying Pirate" Golden Lion Shiki rampaged through Marineford and was captured and imprisoned.
Two living legends falling one after another weighed on every pirate like a mountain.
It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over the entire pirate world.
Their arrogance took a blow like never before, and the seas entered a rare period of "calm."
Good news for ordinary people—but for Rain, it meant his greatest source of "experience" had basically been cut off.
In that entire three months, the Loguetown branch barely captured any pirates who warranted execution.
Even without the system's help for the time being, Rain didn't slack off.
On a lonely cliff by the coast just outside Loguetown—
Rain was bare-chested, bronze-tinted skin beaded with sweat. He wasn't yet sixteen, but his height was already close to two meters; his tall frame was wrapped in lean, solid muscle, radiating a sense of power completely out of proportion to his age.
He slowly exhaled, then, as casually as if taking a walk after a meal, stepped forward and threw a straight punch.
No earthshaking boom—just a short, muffled thump, like hitting soaked leather.
Rain pulled his fist back and looked at his knuckles—no redness, not even a mark. He nodded in satisfaction.
The moment he brought his arm in, the massive reef in front of him sank in around his fist mark with a deep imprint. From that point, spiderweb cracks spread out in silence, racing across the whole rock.
Whoosh—
A sea breeze swept past.
Crash…
The entire reef crumbled in front of him like a sand sculpture eroded by time, collapsing into a pile of rubble.
"So… even without the system, I can get stronger."
Feeling the surging strength flowing through his body, Rain was pleased—but he also gained a deeper understanding of how powerful the system really was.
"It's just… way too slow. Without the foundation the system gave me, it might have taken five, even ten years of hard work to reach where I am now."
With a thought, he pulled up his status panel to check his overall progress over these three months.
Name: Corvo Rain
Age: 15
Rank: Seaman Second Class
[Physique Tier]: Advanced
[Talent]: None
[Skills]: Stealth (Intermediate), Swordsmanship (Intermediate), Marksmanship (Intermediate), Combat Techniques (Intermediate), Cooking (Intermediate), Navigation (Intermediate)
[Sin Points]: 220
Two new non-combat skills had appeared—[Cooking] and [Navigation].
He'd chosen them on a "better than nothing" whim when executing some pirates not long ago.
When he tried upgrading them in the shop, he was pleasantly surprised to find that non-combat skills cost much less to upgrade than combat skills of the same level.
They were "just" non-combat skills, but Rain felt those points had been well spent.
He pulled on the uniform jacket hanging beside him, loosened his body a little after training, and headed back toward the base.
The closer he got to town, the more clearly he felt the change in atmosphere.
At this time of day, Loguetown was usually at its busiest. Now, though, people on the streets were hurrying by with worry and fear written on their faces.
The harbor was packed with ships of all kinds, far more crowded than usual.
Rain's gaze skimmed across the crowd.
He saw reporters from all over the world, drawn by the news.
He saw bounty hunters with eyes like hungry hyenas.
And pirates whose murderous aura they didn't even bother hiding.
"A storm's about to break…" Rain thought. "Every shark in the world has smelled blood."
By the time he reached the Marine base gate, that tension had peaked.
The gate was now guarded by a unit of elite soldiers he'd never seen before. The killing intent they gave off was on a whole different level from the regular Loguetown garrison.
"Stop! Password! Identification!"
Even in full Marine uniform, Rain was blocked without the slightest politeness.
Expressionless, he reported the password and handed over his ID tag. The lead guard checked it carefully before giving a cold wave to let him through.
Rain could feel it clearly—the entire atmosphere inside the base had changed.
Patrols had gone from two-man squads to groups of five, all heavily armed, eyes sharp as hawks.
The whole base was like a war machine that had been switched to battle mode, running coldly and efficiently. Every "component" radiated a clear warning: Keep out.
Passing through the heavily guarded compound, Rain had just returned to his secluded dorm room and hadn't even sat down when a rapid knocking sounded at the door.
"Rain! Captain Stock wants to see you—immediately!" The messenger outside sounded nervous.
"Stock?" Rain raised an eyebrow—the scar-faced officer.
With a trace of curiosity, he followed the runner to the captain's office on the second floor.
To his surprise, Captain Stock wasn't inside. Instead, he was standing ramrod straight outside his own office door like a post, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.
The moment he saw Rain, Stock hurried over, pulled him aside, and, in a tone more tense than Rain had ever heard from him, whispered:
"Listen up, kid! There's a big shot from HQ inside! When you go in, don't ask what you shouldn't ask, don't say what you shouldn't say. Whatever the big shot asks, you answer. Got that?!"
A flurry of thoughts flashed through Rain's mind, but his face remained calm as he nodded.
"Got it."
Stock took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, then stepped forward and knocked on the door respectfully.
"Reporting in! I've… brought him."
A gentle female voice drifted out from inside.
"Let him in."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Stock snapped to attention, then carefully pushed the door open and shot Rain a look.
Rain walked in.
The office lights were off, the room dim. Someone was sitting in the captain's chair with their back to him, quietly watching the view of Loguetown outside the window.
Sensing his presence, the figure slowly turned around.
By the light from the window, Rain could see her face clearly—
Silver hair cropped short and meticulously kept. There were traces of age on her face, but her skin was still remarkably well maintained.
Most striking of all were her eyes—sharp as a hawk's, as if they could see through every scheme and sin in the world.
Her back was straight, and the aura she carried was a unique blend of intellect and absolute authority.
It was the Marine Headquarters Chief of Staff, Vice Admiral—Tsuru.