Chapter 57

Four days later, at Navy Headquarters...

The peaceful quiet of the fortress was suddenly shattered by an explosion-like sound.

WHAM! Zephyr's massive fist, as big as a sandbag, smashed into Loya's face, sending him flying through the wall.

Aludo and the others cowered like frightened chicks, not daring to make eye contact. When Teacher Zephyr was this pissed, anyone who spoke up was asking for trouble.

Some things are universal, no matter what world you're in. As a student, meeting your teacher's angry gaze is terrifying - especially if you're a troublemaker.

And Loya had no one to blame but himself for Zephyr's fury. Sure, the mission hadn't gone perfectly, but the outcome was decent. He'd taken care of the pirates, saved civilians, and proved his strength as an elite recruit. He hadn't completely disgraced Zephyr's training.

But still!

"What did I drill into your thick skull about the first steps after landing?" Zephyr growled, glaring at Loya as he crawled back, nursing his wounds.

Loya's cheek was swollen, and he could feel a few loose teeth as he mumbled, "Gather intel... make a plan... then start the operation."

"Exactly!" Zephyr nodded, arms crossed. Then he swung another punch. "So why the hell did you ignore all that?! If Mingde hadn't shown me your so-called 'battle plan,' I wouldn't have believed my own student could be such a reckless idiot!"

This time, Loya managed to dodge, using his half-baked paper powers to slip behind Mingde. He grabbed the other recruit, using him as a human shield while hissing in his ear, "But Zephyr, sir! Beard and his goons had the terrain advantage. They'd spot us the second we set foot on that island. What choice did we have but to charge in?"

'It hurts! It hurts! Let me go, you jerk!' Mingde thought, tears streaming down his face as Loya's grip tightened on his crew cut hair.

"You made that plan before you even knew the situation!" Zephyr roared, aiming a vicious kick. "Do you think I'm a complete moron?"

THUD! "Oof!"

Loya shoved Mingde in front of him, and Zephyr's kick connected with the poor guy's stomach. Mingde's eyes bulged before he passed out cold.

Loya dusted off his hands, shrugging nonchalantly. "Details, details. The end result was good, right?"

"You little..."

Zephyr's face twitched with barely contained rage.

Aludo tentatively raised his hand. "Um, actually Loya... there was a problem."

"Huh?" Loya blinked, looking confused. "What problem?"

But it was Zephyr who answered, snatching up a stack of photos from the desk and hurling them at Loya's face.

"See for yourself, you moron!"

"Geez, what's got you so worked up?" Loya grumbled, picking up the scattered pictures. As he examined them, his cocky grin faded. "What the... who's this dark-skinned guy? That's gotta be Heathcliff Island!"

Loya studied the photo. A small sailboat cut through the waves, its sail billowing in the crosswind. In the background, the snow-capped peak of Heathcliff Mountain loomed hazily.

Zephyr thrust a file at Loya. "There's a secret criminal organization operating in Paradise - the first half of the Grand Line. This guy's one of them, codename Mr. 5." He jabbed a finger at the photo. "Our intel suggests they're behind the Heathcliff incident. Take a look at what these bastards have been up to."

"Mr. 5?" Loya muttered, wracking his brain. Then it clicked. "Shit, Crocodile!"

The pieces fell into place. Baroque Works - Crocodile's shadowy outfit. Male agents were "Mr." plus a number, females "Miss" plus a day of the week. And the big bad himself, Crocodile, was one of the Seven Warlords.

'But why's Crocodile sending lackeys to the South Blue?' Loya wondered. 'Shouldn't he be in Alabasta, setting up his whole "hero" act to take over the country and find Pluton?'

He flipped through the file. Baroque Works had its fingers in all sorts of pies - weapons, gambling, drugs, even human trafficking. But they seemed to be dabbling rather than committing fully to any one racket.

"No wonder the brass is confused," Loya muttered. "What's this sneaky bastard really after?"

Loya mulled over the intel, realizing Crocodile's behavior wasn't that strange after all. The guy's endgame was Pluton - everything else was just a means to an end. As one of the Seven Warlords, he had to play it smart, not pissing off the real big shots in the underworld.

'He's taking bites, but not enough to choke on,' Loya thought. 'If Navy HQ knew what he was really up to, they'd have slapped cuffs on him ages ago.'

Suddenly, Loya remembered Crocodile's country-stealing scheme from the manga. He flipped through the pages, searching for any mention of Dance Powder, but came up empty.

'Maybe Baroque Works is too new,' he mused. 'But when Dance Powder shows up in these reports, that's when the real shit will start.'

Of course, intel was always a month behind. For all they knew, Crocodile could be stockpiling Dance Powder right now. But the most likely explanation?

'The bastard's broke!' Loya realized. Dance Powder wasn't cheap, and to cause a three-year drought like in the manga, Crocodile would need a mountain of the stuff - and a mountain of cash to match.

"So Crocodile's not just playing hero, he's trying to fill his coffers," Loya muttered, closing the file. "No wonder he's got goons sniffing around Heathcliff."

Now Loya faced a dilemma. Should he spill what he knew to Zephyr? It could change everything - but how the hell would he explain where this insider info came from?

"If we'd nabbed Mr. 5, we could've traced him back to Baroque Works' base!" Zephyr fumed, jabbing his finger at the file. "We could've crushed this whole criminal empire! And you let him slip away!"

"Heh... yeah..." Loya scratched his head, at a loss for words.

Sure, pirates were a plague on the seas, but groups like Baroque Works? They were a whole other level of trouble. Ever since Roger's big announcement, countless wannabe pirates had flooded the oceans, chasing the dream of One Piece. But even the Seven Warlords could only throw their weight around on a single island.

Baroque Works, though? Their influence was spreading like wildfire. Zephyr would probably rather let Whitebeard himself go free than let these guys keep operating.

And Loya had blown their chance to shut it all down because he'd been lazy. No wonder Zephyr was ready to explode.

The truth was, even if they'd caught Mr. 5, it wouldn't have mattered. The guy probably didn't even know who his boss was, let alone where their base was hidden. Crocodile was too smart to spill his plans before everything was ready.

Loya decided to keep his mouth shut. How could he explain knowing all this inside info anyway? Plus, going after a Warlord of the Sea wasn't exactly simple.

Crocodile had that government-issued "license to pillage." If they exposed him as Baroque Works' boss, sure, the Navy would have grounds to arrest him. But it'd be a massive embarrassment for the World Government.

Not to mention, after playing hero for over a year, Crocodile had plenty of support in Alabasta now.

Loya left Zephyr's office, his mind racing. This was way more complicated than he'd bargained for.

Loya's mind was still churning as he headed to the recruit camp cafeteria. "Guess we'll have to wait for Crocodile to start buying Dance Powder before we can crush his plans," he muttered.

"Ms. S! I'm starving!" he called out as he entered.

News travels fast, even in a world with snails for phones. Loya had taken down "Scavenger" Beard, a pirate with a multi million bounty. Overnight, everything had changed.

People who used to look down on him were suddenly respectful. Those who were friendly before now treated him like he was made of glass. It was like he'd gone to sleep and woken up a century later.

Even Ms. S in the cafeteria was oddly reserved. Loya, still groggy, felt completely lost.

But this was how things worked in the world of One Piece. Strength commanded respect. You could act like money was worthless, and people might just call you a hypocrite. But if you tried to downplay your own power? That's when folks really got suspicious.

Loya had never been one to throw his weight around, which made the change even more jarring. But what could he do? He couldn't exactly tell people to treat him like dirt.

At the very least, he hoped his friends would still act normal around him.

Later, in an open area far from Navy HQ, Loya came across a square iron building. The riveted door had a faded warning in red paint: "DANGER: Ferocious animals inside. Do not approach."

Someone had sloppily painted "Training Room" over it in white. Next to that, there was a clear face-shaped imprint in the paint - as if someone had face-planted right into the wet paint.

The face imprint on the door looked suspiciously like Loya's. Inside the "Training Room," dull thuds echoed continuously.

In the center, Loya gritted his teeth, hands protecting his head as rubber-coated iron balls pelted him from all directions. They weren't lethal, but damn, did they hurt.

Loya focused intently, adjusting his breathing with each impact, trying to perfect his Iron Body technique. Of all the Six Powers, Iron Body and Paper Drawing were the toughest to master. Even for a freak like Loya, who'd learned four techniques in a month, there were no shortcuts here.

Unlike moves that focused on specific body parts, these two required total body control. Too much or too little force, and the technique failed. It was grueling work.

Zephyr could've pushed Loya to start Haki training instead, to avoid wasting time. But mastering all Six Powers, even the advanced "Life Return," didn't necessarily make Haki harder to learn. It depended on the individual.

Take Zephyr himself - he hadn't mastered all Six Powers, but his monstrous Armament Haki still earned him the title of Admiral "Black Arm." Weak? Hell no.

This was Loya's choice, and Zephyr wanted to see how far his student could go. Especially since he'd decided to leave HQ for the New World to hunt pirates. Before that, he'd pass on everything he knew to Loya.

Suddenly, the impacts changed. Instead of dull thuds, the balls made sharp, crisp sounds as they hit Loya.

Loya's eyes widened. He fought to suppress his excitement, focusing on maintaining that perfect state he'd finally achieved.

Gradually, the occasional sharp impacts became a constant rhythm. Loya knew he'd finally cracked the Iron Body technique. Now it was just a matter of perfecting it.

Zephyr shut off the mechanism and strode over, kicking aside stray iron balls.

Loya dropped his stance and pulled on his sweat-soaked shirt.

"Looks like you're making progress," Zephyr said, tossing him a water bottle.

Loya's throat burned from the intense training. "Thanks, teacher," he managed, before guzzling water like he'd been lost in the desert for days.

After Loya finished chugging water, Zephyr continued, "This training room's where I used to sweat it out. It's got everything you need. So while you're getting the hang of Iron Body, don't slack on Paper Art or the other techniques. A month ago, your Paper Art was hit-or-miss. And guess what? It's still hit-or-miss! That's unacceptable!"

"Yes, yes, I get it," Loya nodded, ducking to avoid Zephyr's spit. 'The curse of being the top student,' he thought. 'No matter how hard you work, teach is never satisfied.'

After what felt like an hour-long lecture, Zephyr finally changed the subject. "By the way, Hansa's awake. Tony's with him now."

"What?!" Loya stopped wiping his sweat, staring at Zephyr in shock. "That knucklehead finally decided to join the land of the living? Damn, I was starting to think he'd sleep forever."

WHAM!

Zephyr's fist slammed into the iron floor, leaving a dent. Zephyr dispersed the Armament Haki from his hand and snorted. "Who the hell are you taking that tone with, huh?"