The Greatest Disgrace in Marine History-Chapter 130 - 32: A Rival for Life

Darren: ...

Tokikake: ...

The corners of Darren's mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Looking at the hot-blooded Kuzan in front of him, Darren had a sinking feeling that his days in the training camp would be far from peaceful.

---

The Elite Officer Training Camp, still not yet expanded into a full-fledged Marine Academy, was relatively small. Each year's intake was limited to just a few handpicked officer cadets, and the grounds themselves were compact.

Darren, Kuzan, and Tokikake quickly located the training grounds.

It was noon. The sun scorched the skies overhead, sand whipped wildly across the open field, and even the salty sea breeze couldn't dispel the suffocating heat.

Several Marine officers had already gathered — tall, short, thick, lean — each attending to their own preparations: polishing swords, flexing muscles, sitting silently in the shade of towering walls, or smoking quietly.

The arrival of Darren's group quickly caught their attention, sparking a wave of whispered discussions.

"That's him, right?"

"Rogers Darren..."

"The 'King of the North Blue'... the man who took down Byrnndi World..."

"He certainly has an imposing presence..."

The Marines stared intently at the tall figure leading the group, each harboring their own thoughts and speculations.

"Who's with him? You know them, Dalmatian?"

One of the cadets, spotting a young man with spotted dog-like markings on his skin, asked quietly.

Dalmatian answered calmly:

"The guy with the brown cap is Tokikake. He's from Headquarters — very talented. As for the one yawning with messy black hair... no idea."

"You know him, Yamakaji?"

The stocky, buzz-cut youth chewing on a lit cigar grinned and said:

"His name's Kuzan. Like me, he's from the South Blue. A real monster."

Despite his rugged face, Yamakaji's smile radiated warmth and reassurance.

"Ridiculously strong — Headquarters specially selected him to enter the camp."

"A monster, huh?"

Nearby, a gloomy man polishing his sword looked up.

His skin had a dull, waxy sheen; his eyes radiated a chilling bloodlust. His long reddish-brown hair sprawled wildly, almost like spider legs.

"Onigumo, take it easy," teased another Marine with a military cap and a prominent cross-shaped scar on his cheek, his stern gaze masking a playful smirk.

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"This isn't the lazy West Blue."

"Better a lazy West Blue than your 'weakest East Blue,' Doberman," Onigumo retorted coldly.

Doberman snorted:

"If you're still bitter about yesterday's sparring match, we can always go another round."

Onigumo sneered:

"Save it. I have no interest in weaklings."

As he spoke, his predatory gaze slid off Kuzan and locked firmly onto Darren.

---

While the other cadets sized up Darren's group, Darren casually observed the ones present.

Even though they appeared at least twenty years younger than their future selves, their defining features were already recognizable.

The man with spotted skin was Dalmatian, future Marine Vice Admiral, Zoan-type Dog-Dog Fruit: Dalmatian Form user, famed for severely wounding Sun God's forces during the Summit War.

The buzz-cut, cigar-chomping youth with a hearty smile was Yamakaji, future elite Vice Admiral, known for his powerful yet gentle presence. He later helped protect Chief Staff Officer Tsuru and participated in two Buster Call operations.

The red-brown-haired man with the spider-like wildness was Onigumo (Ghost Spider), a ruthless future Vice Admiral infamous for his brutal, hawkish methods — even at the cost of his own men.

The scar-faced, sharp-eyed man was Doberman, another future Vice Admiral, known for his iron-fisted discipline and refusal to back down even against a Yonko.

Other cadets were harder to identify.

After all, the original series didn't delve deeply into many Marine officers' backgrounds.

But one thing was clear: anyone who passed Headquarters' strict selection to enter this camp would inevitably become the backbone of the future Marines.

Unlike the mass recruitments of later generations, the early Elite Officer Training Camps recruited only the best of the best — a true "cradle of generals."

---

"Hey, hey, Darren, Kuzan... is it just me, or are they all staring at us a little too intensely?" Tokikake muttered nervously, feeling like a bug under a magnifying glass.

"So full of fighting spirit... it's getting me fired up!!"

Kuzan adjusted his sunglasses and grinned, radiating excitement.

Tokikake rolled his eyes and ignored the hot-blooded youth, turning instead to Darren.

Darren simply waved a hand and said:

"Tokikake, move two steps to the side."

"Huh? Uh, okay," Tokikake said, obeying. "Like this?"

"Two more steps."

"Alright..."

"Now, do you still feel uncomfortable?"

Tokikake blinked in surprise:

"Now that you mention it... no! It's fine!"

"Simple," Darren said coolly.

"They're only looking at me and Kuzan. Not you."

Tokikake: ...

---

"Hahaha! Little brats, looks like you're all here!"

A loud, hearty voice boomed across the training ground.

Everyone immediately straightened up, fixing their caps, sheathing their swords, and turning toward the source of the voice with respectful attention.

Through the swirling sand, a massive figure marched forward with heavy, powerful steps.

Short, spiky purple hair. Bronze skin. Muscles so thick they strained his uniform. Black sunglasses covered his eyes, and a golden-fringed admiral's cloak snapped in the wind behind him.

A heavy, overwhelming presence swept over the cadets.

It was the former Marine Admiral, known by his codename:

> "Black Arm" Zephyr.

---

To be continued...