Brandon stared blankly.
Why was this guy… still running?
He looked down at the notebook in his hand, eyes twitching at the number tallied on the latest page.
188 laps.
That was already three to four times the average for this year's batch of recruits.
Was this kid even human?
Brandon wracked his memory. In all eleven years since the Elite Program was founded, only three people had surpassed this number during their first-year stamina test:
Sakazuki,
Kuzan,
and Borsalino.
All three were monsters among monsters. The top disciples personally trained by Zephyr-sensei. Each one had awakened a Logia-type Devil Fruit, graduated directly with the rank of Rear Admiral, and were now Vice Admirals in HQ. Future Admirals, guaranteed.
Was Nao… in that league?
"…Wait. That sense of doom I had earlier… it was about this, wasn't it?"
Brandon's hand froze mid-sip of orange juice. His expression turned oddly stiff.
"Don't tell me… I'm gonna miss dinner because of this brat?"
Turns out, for once, his hunch was spot-on.
An hour later, night fell. The sun was long gone, most recruits had finished their tests and gone off to the mess hall.
Only one person remained on the training field.
Nao.
Still running.
Still smiling.
And showing no signs of slowing down.
"Lap 240…"
Brandon slumped half-dead on the bench, looking like a beached sea lion, weakly flipping his scoreboard card.
"…You're kidding me. That already beats Borsalino and Kuzan's records…"
Only Sakazuki's 250 laps remained unbeaten.
But at this pace?
He was gonna break it too.
Brandon let out a sigh.
"Guess I'll just have to hang in there…"
Sure, Nao had inhuman stamina, but he was still human. No one could keep running forever, not without food.
He'd been at it since noon. No break. No lunch.
His legs might keep moving, but his stomach had to give out eventually… right?
Totally reasonable guess.
Until, about half an hour later, a certain blue-haired girl showed up—carrying a stack of homemade bento boxes.
Nao didn't even stop. He just grabbed one, cracked it open mid-run, and started happily munching as he kept jogging.
And that was when…
Brandon broke.
Like a volcano of misery and hunger, everything he'd bottled up erupted at once.
"ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, YOU LITTLE MONSTER!!"
As Nao jogged past again, happily chewing on a meatball, Brandon leapt up, shaking with rage:
"270 LAPS?! You're already first place! Not just this year—all-time first! There's no higher score! What are you even trying to prove?! HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA MAKE ME SIT HERE?!"
Nao blinked and looked back in confusion, still mid-bite.
"…Are you hungry, sir? You can totally go eat—I'm fine running alone."
"LIKE HELL I'M LEAVING!"
Brandon exploded. "I'm a Marine Instructor, dammit! I've got responsibilities! I'm not gonna abandon a test mid-way just because you won't stop being a freak!"
Such stubborn professionalism… it actually moved Nao a little.
He gave the instructor a thumbs-up and nodded.
"Respect, sensei."
Then turned back around and just… kept running.
To Nao, this was the only test with any real challenge. Everything else had been too easy. This? At least it was fun.
He was getting a little tired, though.
So, mid-run, he casually toggled the [Gravitational Training Field] from 7.5x down to 6x.
And just like that, he felt his entire body lighten. His energy snapped back to peak, and he accelerated slightly.
Still running. Still smiling.
And poor Brandon?
He was too distracted to notice. He was now watching the blue-haired girl instead, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"…Wait a sec. If I can't go eat, maybe I can have someone bring food to me…"
Why hadn't he thought of that earlier?
"I've got it!"
With a triumphant smirk, Brandon whipped out a mini Den Den Mushi from his pocket and called Instructor Vivian.
"Delivery?"
Vivian's voice came through, flat and unimpressed. "Brandon, are you kidding me right now?"
In the background, a toddler was wailing.
"I'm off duty. I've got a two-year-old to take care of. You want me to leave my house, in the dark, just to bring your sorry ass some takeout?!"
That crying… it was little Tashigi. Brandon had heard her before.
"C'mon, Vivian—just this once. You can't just—"
click
The Den Den Mushi went dead.
"Guess I'll just… starve then," Brandon muttered blankly.
Next morning.
The new batch of recruits returned to the field, only to be greeted by a horrifying sight.
Nao was still running.
And in the middle of the field lay Brandon, pale as death, staring blankly at the sky like a corpse.
Every time Nao passed him, his arm would twitch just enough to flip the scoreboard over once.
Then slump again.
Like a zombie.
Later that afternoon…
As they left the training hall together for lunch, Rosinante finally couldn't hold it in:
"Bro, that was straight evil."
"You seriously made poor Brandon stand out there all night. He collapsed, man! They had to hook him up to an IV drip!"
"I told him he could leave!" Nao replied, looking guilty. "He refused!"
"I didn't think much of it at first. I mean, this is the world of pirates—we've seen people go a month without food and still be kicking."
"Well, now you know," said Rosinante, shaking his head.
"…By the way," he added, eyes narrowing. "How many laps did you end up doing?"
Nao looked frustrated.
"Didn't finish. Time was up, had to report for roll call."
"I think it was… 450 laps? Something like that? Can't remember exactly."
"450—?!"
Rosinante and Shiryu both gagged audibly.
They exchanged a look, muttered a curse, and started power-walking ahead without a word.
"Hey! What the hell? Wait up!" Nao shouted from behind.
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin