One Piece Shadow Army - Chapter 67

“More!”

“More!”

Inside the mess hall, Veroch quickly finished a pile of food and shouted to the staff in a rough voice.

“Yes, right away.”

A dozen chefs in white uniforms hurriedly prepared more food, which was promptly brought out on small carts.

Veroch grabbed a piece of roasted meat with his thick arm and began tearing into it.

With his sharp teeth ripping and his throat constantly swallowing, the food quickly disappeared.

The surrounding Marines personnel were astonished by this display, while Veroch ignored their stares, continuing to wolf down the food like a starving ghost, interested only in the meal.

However, when he bit into a sandwich, his eyes suddenly narrowed.

“Disgusting!”

“How can something taste so awful!”

Veroch’s loud exclamation echoed through the dining hall, drawing everyone’s attention.

In an instant, the mess hall fell silent, and most eyes turned toward Veroch, puzzled by his outburst.

Then, they watched as Veroch angrily swung his arm, flinging the tray of sandwiches to the floor.

Crash!

The sound of the tray hitting the floor was especially loud in the quiet hall.

Everyone looked at Veroch in confusion, not understanding why he was so enraged.

Seeing the food scattered on the floor, Tashigi thought of the suffering people who, due to pirate raids, couldn’t even dream of such food.

A surge of anger filled her heart, and she stood up, pointing at Veroch and scolding him.

“That’s too much! Even if you think the sandwiches taste bad, you shouldn’t waste food!”

Tashigi had also taken a sandwich and found it quite good. Veroch’s dislike was likely just a matter of personal taste.

The Marines personnel eating nearby were surprised, wondering why Tashigi dared to confront a Lieutenant Commander.

Hmm?

Hearing Tashigi’s reprimand, Veroch’s face darkened. Seeing that she was just an ordinary Marines soldier, he looked at her with disdain.

“Sandwiches are the worst food in the world. I can’t eat them, so I threw them away. Got a problem with that?”

“And you’re just a Marines Petty Officer. Do you think you have the right to criticize me?”

In the Marines, insubordination is a serious issue.

Veroch’s questioning left Tashigi at a loss for words. She could only persistently say, “Regardless, wasting food is wrong!”

Listening to Tashigi’s self-righteous tone, a suppressed anger rose in Veroch’s heart. When he noticed Tashigi’s damn blue hair, his anger boiled over.

Veroch spoke aggressively:

“I am a Lieutenant Commander of the G-5 branch! I can eat whatever I want for breakfast. If I don’t like it, I can throw it away. It’s none of your business!

If you’re upset, you can challenge me, but do you dare?”

“You, you…”

Tashigi was at a loss for words. Despite her anger, she knew her limits. She was only a Marines Petty Officer, and her swordsmanship wasn’t that great. She couldn’t possibly defeat this Lieutenant Commander.

So, challenging him was out of the question…

“Lieutenant Commander Veroch, if you don’t mind, I’d like to challenge you.”

At that moment, Curls stood up, his clear words breaking the awkward situation for Tashigi.

As a fellow Marines member from Loguetown here for the elite training camp, he couldn’t just watch Tashigi get bullied.

Moreover, Tashigi was his subordinate, so if he didn’t stand up for her, who would?

Suddenly, all eyes in the room turned to the young Curls.

The observing Marines personnel were puzzled. How did this guy have the confidence to challenge Veroch?

They knew Veroch was a fierce man from the G-5 branch in the New World!

The G-5 branch was an institution in the latter half of the Grand Line. The Marines at G-5 behaved more like pirates. They rarely followed orders from Marines Headquarters and often used brutal methods to kill pirates.

Had this young Marines officer not heard their conversation? Veroch was a Devil Fruit user and had killed a pirate with a bounty of fifty million Berries. Why was he stepping forward?

Puzzled, the Marines personnel began whispering among themselves.

“Who is that?”

“Seems like he’s from the East Blue, but I don’t know which branch.”

“His rank looks like Major, but considering he’s from the Four Seas, that would be equivalent to an Ensign at Headquarters!”

“Why is he so confident?”

Upon hearing Curls’ challenge, Veroch’s lips curled into a sinister smile. He started loosening up his muscles, causing his joints to crack.

“Alright, I’ve just about finished eating anyway. I could use some exercise.”

“I accept your challenge.”

…

At Marines Headquarters Tower.

In an upper-floor conference room, a group of Vice Admirals were seated.

At the head of the table sat Fleet Admiral Sengoku. Beside him was the white-haired, burly Garp.

On the wall was the motto “Absolute Justice,” the guiding principle of the Marines.

At this moment, Garp was leaning back in his chair, snoring softly with a snot bubble expanding and contracting with each breath.

The surrounding Vice Admirals had their arms crossed and remained silent.

Vice Admiral Garp was a senior figure in the Marines, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for them to speak up.

“Hey, Garp! Wake up! This is no place for you to sleep.”

Sengoku’s voice, tinged with frustration, broke the silence as he noticed the prolonged absence of the expected guest and Garp’s nonchalant behavior.

Awakened by Sengoku’s shout, Garp rubbed his head sheepishly.

“Oh, I must have dozed off!”

Then, Garp pulled out a bag of donuts from somewhere and started munching away.

Crunch, crunch, the sound of chewing filled the quiet room.

Garp’s query rang out.

“Has Zephyr arrived yet?”

Sengoku’s expression turned serious.

“Not yet. Given what happened before, even though he’s recovered, we can’t be sure if he’ll come.”

Hearing this, the Vice Admirals fell silent.

This meeting was convened to determine the chief instructor for this year’s elite training camp.

Zephyr, a former Admiral, had traditionally held this role. However, five years ago, an error in judgment led to the pirate Edward Weevil attacking his training ship. All his beloved students, except for Ain and Binz, were killed, and Zephyr lost his right arm.

Though he had recovered now, it was uncertain whether he would continue as the chief instructor.

After a long wait, the conference room’s sliding door finally opened, drawing everyone’s attention.

A burly figure stepped in—an elderly Marines officer with broad shoulders and purple hair, wearing a Marines coat of justice. He had only one arm; the other was a cold, metallic mechanical limb.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Zephyr, draped in his Marines coat, slowly walked to the seat opposite Sengoku.

“Mr. Zephyr!”

Immediately, the Vice Admirals, except for Garp, greeted him with respect.

As the main instructor of the Marines Academy for over twenty years, Zephyr had trained numerous Marines leaders.

The current top three Admirals were once his students. Hence, Zephyr

held a high position in the Marines and was greatly respected by these Vice Admirals.

As for Sengoku and Garp, they had joined the Marines around the same time as Zephyr, and there was no need for formalities among old comrades who had fought many battles together.

“Zephyr, I thought you might not come. Do you still wish to serve as the chief instructor?”

Sengoku, with a hint of sentimentality, asked his old comrade, observing him closely.

With Sengoku’s question hanging in the air, the Vice Admirals fell silent, waiting for Zephyr’s response. Even Garp paused his eating, focusing on Zephyr.

Five years ago, after suffering the loss of his beloved students at the hands of pirates, Zephyr had stepped down from his position as an Admiral. Although persuaded to stay with the rank of Admiral, he had transitioned to the role of the Marines Academy’s chief instructor.

But after experiencing the tragic loss of more students, could he continue in this role?

Everyone awaited Zephyr’s answer.

Since that tragic incident five years ago, Zephyr’s appearance had changed. He now wore a pair of black sunglasses, concealing his eyes.

Facing Sengoku’s inquiry, Zephyr began to speak.

“Before coming here, I pondered whether to continue as the chief instructor.”

Zephyr extended his left hand, touching his cold mechanical right arm.

“I’m seventy years old now. At this age, I should have retired, but retiring like this leaves me unsatisfied…”

He gazed out the window, his aged face showing both pain and determination.

“I don’t want my final thoughts after retirement to be filled with such sorrow. I don’t want to wake up every morning to nightmares of the massacre on that ship. I don’t want my last students to be unable to call out ‘Teacher Zephyr’ with pride.”

“So, I came. But I must admit, I’m getting old. By this time next year, I’ll step down from my position as chief instructor of the Marines academy.”

“This year’s elite training camp will be the last class I teach. This time, I won’t leave any regrets!”

Zephyr’s resolute declaration filled the room with a sense of gravity, resonating deeply with everyone present.

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