Thanks to Tatsumaki's ironclad surveillance, Kizaru and Fubuki spent a completely unromantic evening together.
Unfortunately, by the time morning came, Tatsumaki, who had been on high alert all night, hadn't gotten a wink of sleep and was too exhausted to even get out of bed.
"Let her sleep. Saves me the trouble of explaining things to her."
Kizaru shrugged. Originally, he had planned to take Fubuki to another world right in front of Tatsumaki, just to get a rise out of her.
He wasn't sure why, but every time he saw Tatsumaki, he just got this urge to mess with her a little.
The 48 heroes who'd held out till the very end yesterday were already gathered early at the training grounds.
The reason they'd pushed through was largely because Kizaru had promised to start teaching them combat techniques today.
Even someone like Flashy Flash, an S-Class hero, was curious to see the moves of someone like Kizaru—whose speed had surpassed human limits.
"They're here! That's the Blizzard Group's convoy!"
"Yes! This is gonna be awesome!"
"Hope we can start right away…"
…
The heroes' eyes locked onto Kizaru as he appeared before them. Anyone else might've felt pressured under such intense gazes.
But Kizaru wasn't just any random guy—back in the Navy Academy, he had not only been a standout student, but also repeatedly recalled by old man Zephyr to teach the younger cadets as an exemplary graduate, rising star, and the youngest naval officer and general.
What a scam that had been. Zephyr kept dragging him back under the excuse of "boosting his reputation with the lower ranks."
Because of that, Kizaru had long gotten used to eyes full of curiosity and expectation. In fact, back when he was a cadet himself, he used to look at Zephyr the exact same way.
"Huh, so many of you actually completed yesterday's training… That's a bit surprising."
Kizaru spoke without blinking. If someone like Dragon, who had been with him for years, or Nami, who loved analyzing him, had been there, they would've instantly known he was lying.
No one present had escaped Kizaru's Observation Haki. Not only did he know exactly how many had finished the training, he could even tell how much stamina each of them had left afterward.
The only exception was Mumen Rider—a "monster" who had essentially conquered his own limits through sheer willpower. Once again, he caused the limiter to loosen slightly. Otherwise, he would've collapsed during the final exercise.
Then again, the Pirate World had no shortage of such "monsters." But those were usually powerful and well-known figures. Someone like Mumen Rider—so weak yet so determined—was a first for Kizaru.
"Anyway, enough small talk. I'm sure what you really want to know is the technique I'm about to teach you…"
"Rankyaku!"
Kizaru shook his head and, in front of all the heroes, kicked toward a concrete block in the distance—at the lowest speed theoretically required to generate a Rankyaku's vacuum blade.
The moment his foot swung, an invisible slash formed in the air and shot straight toward the cement block over a hundred meters away.
Whoosh!
Under the heroes' stunned gazes, the solid concrete-and-rebar block was silently cleaved in half. The cut was so smooth, it looked like butter sliced by a hot knife.
It wasn't hard to imagine—if that kick had been aimed at any of them, maybe only Flashy Flash would have a chance to dodge. Even Blue Flame wouldn't bet on surviving it.
"This is Rankyaku, one of the six techniques of Rokushiki. It's a slashing attack generated by high-speed, high-power kicks that create a vacuum blade capable of hitting enemies from afar."
As Kizaru explained, he casually launched a second Rankyaku, this time slicing the block horizontally in two.
Such overwhelming power, combined with how effortlessly Kizaru moved—like it was as easy as eating or drinking—instantly ignited the heroes' desire to learn.
Who wouldn't want to master a move that strong and that cool? Even the previously eliminated members of the Blizzard Group were now full of regret for not pushing themselves harder the day before.
Especially Mountain Ape, who collapsed right at the final moment—he looked like he wanted to punch himself in the head.
Thankfully, Kizaru had promised them a second chance to learn the Navy's Rokushiki techniques later, so they wouldn't completely miss out on these powerful martial arts.
"Rankyaku, huh… it looks a bit like my Wind Blade Kick, but I feel like there's some detail I missed…"
Flashy Flash stared intently at Kizaru's right foot, trying to deduce the secret of Rankyaku with his trained eyes and experience.
As a speed-based assassin, he didn't need to worry about being kited by ranged opponents, but learning such a powerful ranged attack certainly wouldn't hurt.
"That's not all. Rankyaku—and Rokushiki in general—can be evolved into personalized techniques. For example… Rankyaku: Typhoon Sweep!"
Kizaru lightly leapt into the air and launched a kick toward the empty training field.
This time, it wasn't a sharp blade of vacuum, but a roaring blast of wind pressure—like a typhoon crashing down.
In an instant, the training grounds spanning several kilometers were cleared out. Countless pebbles and debris were swept away, and even the ground seemed to have sunken slightly.
When sixteen-year-old Kizaru first created this AOE move, he had proudly shown it off to old man Zephyr—only to be brutally roasted.
Aside from monsters like Kizaru, even Vice Admirals didn't have the stamina to pull off such a move. And even if they could, it wouldn't do much damage to the stronger pirates out there.
To someone like Zephyr, a hard-line realist, the technique was flashy and impractical. But as far as cool factor and shock value went, it was a top-tier skill—and that much was clear from the starry-eyed looks on all the heroes' faces.
"Mister Swift Flash… I'd like to know what the other Rokushiki techniques are," Flashy Flash asked eagerly.
Originally, he had only planned to use the training camp to figure out the secret behind Kizaru's superhuman speed. But now he realized that the camp's martial arts teachings alone were worth the effort. Just one Rankyaku had already won him over—now he was eager to learn the other five techniques.
The normally silent and aloof Flashy Flash asking a question surprised everyone, but it was exactly what they all wanted to know. More than a hundred pairs of burning eyes—including those from the Blizzard Group—locked onto Kizaru again.
"…Fine. I suppose there's no harm in telling you. The next technique is Geppo—'Moonwalk.' It lets you move freely through the air. I'll explain it in more detail after you've learned Rankyaku."
It wasn't that Kizaru was deliberately trying to keep the heroes in suspense—he just didn't want them to get ahead of themselves.
In reality, out of all the heroes present, only Flashy Flash had the potential to learn Rankyaku in a short time. Even someone as gifted as Captain Mizuki, or Blue Flame—who was close to S-Class strength—would still need quite a while before they could grasp it.
As for the rest of the heroes, Kizaru's expectations were much more modest: if they could manage to learn Rankyaku and Geppo before the training camp ended, that would already be impressive. Fewer than five heroes, in his estimate, would be able to pick up Soru.
"Take off your wristbands and try practicing high-speed kicks. If you can reach ten kicks per second within an hour, you can start working on Rankyaku. If not, put the bands back on and repeat yesterday's training."
Kizaru's training style was blunt and straightforward. But that made sense—Rokushiki wasn't a technique that relied on tricks or insight. If your physical condition met the standard, your chances of learning it rose dramatically.
Just like how Luffy had figured it out after seeing it only a few times on Enies Lobby—this was exactly why Kizaru set entry requirements for the camp. If someone couldn't even meet the minimum standard, forcing them to practice would just be a waste of effort.
After assigning the training tasks, Kizaru waved over the Blizzard Group members and started setting up the BBQ gear—he had something special planned to impress Fubuki.
"Ten kicks per second? That's way too hard… and only an hour to do it?"
On the sidelines, Magic Trickster grumbled under his breath. But the moment he removed his chakra-loaded wristbands, he felt like he was about to float into the air.
Two days of intense, limit-pushing training hadn't caused a complete transformation in the trainees yet. But Kizaru's sensing that their internal limiters had started loosening wasn't an exaggeration.
While the wristbands had dulled the feeling before, now that they were off, Magic Trickster—being very attuned to his own body—noticed the change immediately.
"Whoa, wait a second… this feeling—is this real?"
Tanktop Vegetarian clenched his fists in disbelief. If an agile hero like Magic Trickster just felt a bit lighter, then for someone like him, who relied purely on brute strength to fight monsters, this felt like a total rebirth.
He tried a few rapid punches—and could faintly hear the air being sliced by his fists. No exaggeration: if he fought the version of himself from two days ago, it would probably be a one-sided slaughter.
Just one day ago, Tanktop Vegetarian had seriously considered dropping out. If he hadn't seen others, ranked even lower than him, still gritting their teeth and pushing forward, his pride wouldn't have stopped him from being the first to quit.
But now? Now he was immensely grateful he stuck with it. Otherwise, he'd have never experienced such a dramatic breakthrough.
"…This feeling!"
Blue Flame, usually silent and expressionless, found his cold facade breaking apart. He stared at his hands, stunned and overjoyed. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt a clear, tangible improvement like this.
Ever since he'd grown stronger—becoming one of the top-ranked A-Class heroes—no matter how hard he trained, it always felt like he was just spinning his wheels.
Eventually, even when he did improve, he'd start doubting whether it was just in his head.
But this time—it was real. No matter how skeptical he was, even he could feel the undeniable change in his body.
"Hey! You lot over there—quit spacing out! If you can't hit your goal, there's more training waiting for you. Just because you passed yesterday doesn't mean you're safe today!"
Kizaru, already tending to the fire and charcoal, noticed a few heroes still dazed in place and 'helpfully' called out to remind them.
What he didn't tell them was that the chakra-loaded wristbands would gradually increase in weight over time. If a hero's progress couldn't keep pace with the growing load, it was only a matter of time before they were eliminated under the weight of mounting training demands.
In fact, the current count of over forty heroes still hanging on had already exceeded Kizaru's expectations. His original plan had been to swiftly weed out those lacking potential or determination, then quickly train up a group of elites—who would, in turn, help train the rest.
But with so many still left, even he didn't have the energy to offer personalized instruction to everyone.
"Right! Training! Ten kicks per second, that's all it is! Let's go!"
Magic Trickster, itching to test his progress, dashed toward a practice stump—only to find that the C-Class hero, Mumen Rider, had beaten everyone to it. He was already furiously kicking away at the wooden target.
While the others were still basking in the joy of their progress, Mumen Rider—who valued this opportunity to grow more than anyone—hadn't even taken the time to savor the change in his body. The moment he felt something was different, he dove straight into training.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud…
The wooden stumps were pre-marked with angled notches that corresponded to different height ranges, helping each hero find the optimal kicking angle to generate a vacuum slash.
At first, Rankyaku learned this way could only be unleashed at specific angles, but with enough practice, it would eventually become second nature—usable from any position or direction.
Mumen Rider kicked with intense focus. Even someone like Blue Flame, whose strength was nearly at S-Class level, had noticed a distinct improvement—so for someone like Mumen Rider, who had started from the bottom of C-Class, the change was monumental.
That only made him value this training camp even more. He was terrified that one day, he might fall behind and get eliminated by Lord Swift Flash himself.
While the other heroes poured their effort into the drills, Flashy Flash hadn't rushed to start kicking stumps. With his ability, even without much practice, he could easily meet the basic criteria for Rankyaku.
"…I've gotten stronger…"
He stood still, looking surprised. For most heroes, getting stronger through high-intensity training wasn't surprising at all.
Even those with limited potential could improve noticeably under that level of strain.
But S-Class heroes were different. They had already pushed their physical potential to the very edge—especially Flashy Flash, who had long since reached the absolute limit of human speed.
That was a real limit—a wall that no amount of pressure or willpower could overcome. Or at least, that's what he'd always believed… until today.
"How did he do it…"
He glanced at Kizaru, who was calmly grilling meat nearby, and unconsciously pressed his lips together. He really wanted to grab the man and demand answers.
But unfortunately, he wasn't a match for Kizaru. And right now, he still needed something from him. Even someone as proud as Flashy Flash couldn't bring himself to confront Kizaru so directly.
°°°
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