Momonga couldn't help but smile at Tokikake's words.
"Monster? Maybe…"
"I joined the 321st Branch at the same time as Captain Daren. I remember it clearly—his first day of training was five years ago…"
A rare flicker of nostalgia passed through Momonga's usually cold and resolute gaze.
"Back then, he was frail. Just running ten laps around the training ground would completely drain him. He needed half an hour to catch his breath and stand up again."
"Among all the recruits that year, he was the weakest physically."
"But he never gave up."
"He trained every single day, constantly pushing himself to his physical limits."
"It started with dragging a cannon barrel, then a small one-man boat… It took him three full years before he could barely drag an abandoned warship a single meter."
"Compared to someone like Rear Admiral Sakazuki, who's a monster by birth, Captain Daren is a monster on a whole different level."
Hearing this, both Gion and Tokikake fell silent.
...
Clang...
Daren let the heavy iron chain fall to the ground. Standing under the scorching sun, he panted heavily, his throat and lungs burning like they were being torn apart by a bellows.
Every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire, radiating searing pain.
But this kind of pain was already second nature to him.
He looked back at the deep groove etched into the ground by the warship he'd dragged, and roughly estimated the distance.
One hundred and one meters...
Yeah, he'd finally broken his own record.
He checked his physical stats again.
Physique: 58.106 (+0.03)
Strength: 53.837 (+0.06)
Speed: 57.539
Fruit: 71.345
A 0.03 increase in physique and 0.06 in strength.
"Attribute growth is slowing down. Guess it's time to switch to a bigger warship."
Daren muttered as he stared at his "data panel."
This was the best way he'd found to use his "perception" talent—analyzing the feedback from each stat to judge whether his current training methods were still effective.
The human body is highly adaptive. The same load, same pressure, the same routines—these might yield results at first, but as the body adjusts, the effect dwindles, eventually stalling.
That's the science behind it.
Before crossing into this world, Daren had learned that professional athletes also constantly revise their training plans to maintain progress.
"Progressive overload"—a fundamental principle in exercise science.
It means gradually increasing the training load within the body's tolerable range to achieve better performance.
And with his precise perception, Daren could monitor the effectiveness of every exercise through data feedback.
So even if others saw his training as hellish torture, a monster's regimen, he embraced it willingly.
Because the feedback was instant.
Each push-up, each weighted squat—he could see his stats rise in real time.
Just like leveling up in a game.
Of course, this world wasn't a game—it was all too real.
And he understood better than anyone how dangerous the world of pirates truly was.
That's why he trained harder than anyone.
Only then could he stand shoulder to shoulder with the real monsters of the sea.
With his gifted talent and inhuman effort, he firmly believed that one day, he'd be able to do what Whitebeard could—possess overwhelming strength and stop a speeding warship with his bare hands.
"Well then, time to start physical training."
As his breathing steadied, Daren looked up and waved to Momonga.
He could feel his body had hit its limit for the day. Forcing more strength training now wouldn't help—worse, it could cause hidden injuries, muscle tears, or overtax his potential.
"Captain Daren's calling me."
On the other side of the training ground, Momonga said this to Tokikake and Gion, then began walking over.
But he suddenly stopped, as if remembering something. Turning back with a smile, he added:
"Oh right—things are about to get really interesting. Don't blink."
Tokikake and Gion were momentarily stunned.
Momonga didn't explain further, just gave a mysterious smile.
Though he wasn't the type to enjoy messing with others, for some reason, watching these two Marine Headquarters elites—so-called "chosen ones"—look so wide-eyed and overwhelmed, filled him with an odd sense of amusement.
"Assemble!!"
Momonga barked coldly.
In less than twenty seconds, dozens of Marines swiftly gathered at the center of the training ground.
As if fully prepared in advance, they split into two neat formations.
Clang!!
With a sharp metallic ring, the front row of Marines drew their sabers in unison.
Shff!!
At the same moment, the Marines in the back row raised their muskets in sync.
All of them held their breath, eyes locked on one target…
Daren, standing alone at the center of the field.
"Wait, wait, wait… this has to be a joke…"
Tokikake's face twisted in disbelief, lips twitching uncontrollably as the realization hit him.
Gion gulped audibly and said with a dry voice,
"This kind of training… someone could actually die from it…"
Before they had time to recover from their shock, Momonga had already issued a stern command.
"Attack!!"
The moment his voice fell—
The front-row Marines charged at their Base Commander with fierce momentum, sabers gleaming.
The cold, razor-sharp blades slashed down mercilessly across Daren's entire body!
Head, face, neck, chest, back, arms, thighs, throat...
No part was spared.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!!
But it was like striking steel. Sparks burst from the impacts, and the blades chipped and shattered.
After just one round of slashes, their sabers were ruined. The front-row Marines quickly pulled back.
Immediately, the back-row Marines pulled the triggers of their muskets.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!!
A dense volley of bullets rained down on Daren, ricocheting and bouncing, pockmarking the ground with deep craters.
As soon as the volley ended, the rear Marines drew the sabers at their waists and charged forward.
Meanwhile, the front-row troops repositioned and began reloading the muskets.
And so the rotation continued...
Blades,gunfire, and even, now and then, Momonga himself dragged out a heavy cannon from the nearby armory, firing a round at Daren during the switching interval between teams.
Swords shattered, guns roared, cannon blasts erupted—thick smoke and flames rose over the training ground, stirring up clouds of dust and sand. From afar, it looked like a full-blown battlefield.
Tokikake and Gion stood at the edge of the field, utterly dumbfounded by the terrifying display of what looked like deliberate self-destruction.
They were frozen in place.
No Tekkai, no dodging, no blocking…
That madman—was enduring this brutal assault with nothing but the sheer toughness of his body!
"Is this… really something a human can do?"
Staring at the man who remained standing in the middle of the storm of bullets and blades, Tokikake and Gion muttered in a whisper.