Ron tapped into another livestream interface, and the screen immediately displayed live footage from other users.
"As you can see, TikTok isn't just for shooting videos. You can also livestream, share your life, showcase your talents, and interact with people all over the world."
The soldiers watched Ron's demonstration. A glimmer of intrigue appeared in their eyes.
They still didn't fully grasp what this thing was, but they could sense it wasn't just a toy. It was a gateway to a whole new world.
"This... is this really possible?" Binz asked, half in disbelief.
"Of course," Ron nodded. "TikTok is a brand-new platform. It lets your voice reach more people. It even has features like the Shopping Cart. You can explore the rest yourselves later."
The glow of the setting sun bathed the training ground. The phones in the Marines' hands flickered softly, quietly heralding a new era.
"It's actually Warlord of the Sea, Empress Boa Hancock! She's so beautiful~~"
Ain lightly tapped the screen, and the sudden pop-up livestream made her cry out.
"Eh? Let me see!"
"No freaking way! You—you—you—you—quick, send it to me!"
The Marines swarmed in, their faces lit up with excitement and curiosity.
They stared at the screen, visibly stunned.
They were hooked. How could something be this fun?
The girls on screen... wait no, the videos were just so big. So white!
What was this?
And all kinds of food videos! It was insane! Was this stuff actually free?
Even just the photo feature alone had to be worth a few million Berries!
"Admiral Ron... is too awesome!"
Some Marines clutched their phones with trembling hands, eyes turning red.
Just as someone was about to thank him, the screen suddenly switched to Rebecca's tearful plea.
The girl's bruised arms and desperate cries stabbed straight into their hearts like knives.
Immediately after, a full report on Crocodile's arrest auto-played.
In it, an analyst exposed the deep corruption behind the Seven Warlords system.
"This... this is the truth?"
A young Marine's phone slipped from his hands with a clack. The screen didn't break—but his belief did.
Gasps of shock rippled through the training ground.
Someone punched a wooden post nearby. Sawdust flew as blood streamed from their knuckles.
They stood frozen. The phones in their hands suddenly felt incredibly heavy.
To be in the same force as such hypocrites and scum... they couldn't stand it.
"What did I just scroll into!!!"
A Marine's voice trembled, eyes filled with turmoil.
"The Warlords, protected by the Marines, actually did that kind of thing. And we... we helped them!"
Another Marine's voice was filled with rage and shame.
Zephyr stood off to the side, silently watching. A complex look filled his eyes.
He knew these young Marines were undergoing a baptism of thought.
Their beliefs were being shattered. Their futures, redefined.
"This world needs more than just Marine justice," Zephyr said quietly, but his tone was firm. "We need to find our own path."
The Marines fell silent.
They understood. He was right.
The phones in their hands weren't just entertainment. They were windows into the truth.
Zephyr slowly removed his cloak.
His white coat of justice gleamed under the fading sun. He stood tall in the center of the training ground, eyes filled with resolve.
"Do you understand now?" His voice was like sandpaper. "This is why I left."
He pointed to the phone screen with a scarred finger.
"And what you're seeing... is only the tip of the iceberg."
The sound of teeth grinding came from the crowd.
When Zephyr mentioned the three words "Celestial Dragons," several Marines instinctively reached for their swords.
No further explanation was needed.
The image of those smug, bubble-helmeted nobles popped into everyone's minds, suffocating, rage-inducing.
"I'm following Teacher Zephyr!"
Ain suddenly slashed at a nearby dummy, her blue hair flaring in the wind.
"Those kinds of Marines aren't worthy of being called justice!"
"Count me in!"
"Me too!"
"..."
The training ground erupted in roars. One by one, the Marines ripped off their shoulder boards, the crisp clatter of metal hitting the ground forming a war drum rhythm.
Their eyes burned with conviction. They had made their choice—to follow Zephyr on a new road.
Zephyr scanned their passionate faces.
A smile, long absent, flickered at the corners of his mouth.
He stepped aside and raised an eyebrow at Ron.
"Your move, kid."
Ron stepped forward, his cloak billowing.
He held up his phone. The screen showed the devastated remains of a village destroyed by pirates.
His tone turned serious.
"Leaving the Marines doesn't mean we've become pirates. On the contrary, after discussing it with Old Man Zephyr…"
He paused, eyes resolute. "Starting today, we are the New Marines, the Neo-Marines."
A flock of seagulls cried from above, as if to echo his declaration.
Ron looked around at the group with firm resolve.
"Whatever the Marines can do, we can do."
He raised one finger. Behind him, Zephyr followed up seamlessly.
"And whatever they can't do—we still can."
In one sentence: Justice will never be late, and all evil shall be punished!
The Marines' eyes grew brighter.
Their doubts vanished. This... this was the justice they believed in.
The kind that would never come late!
Ron and Zephyr exchanged a smile.
The setting sun stretched their shadows far along the stone path, merging into a single, massive character:
Justice.
When Ron spoke the words "Justice will never be late," the entire training ground erupted into thunderous cheers.
The Marines raised their phones high.
Their eyes were filled with hope, and unwavering determination.
They knew that from this moment on, they were stepping onto a new path.
A path of justice, their justice!
After the crowd settled down a bit, Ron clapped his hands.
"If we're doing this, we're doing it right!"
He rolled up his sleeves and waved them over.
"Come on, shoot some videos and post them on TikTok! All of you, liven up! Our first promotional campaign for the Neo Marines needs momentum!"
Zephyr nodded in understanding and adjusted his collar.
Even though he had taken off the Marine uniform, the aura he gave off was stronger than ever.
He stood ramrod straight, like a drawn blade.
The setting sun cast deep shadows across his weathered face.
"You brats," he growled, low and powerful, causing everyone to instinctively stand straighter.
"Show me your most spirited side!"
(To be continued.)