Three months had passed since Vulcan had begun his focused training under Garp, with sparring sessions becoming an everyday occurrence. His strength, precision, and resilience had increased tenfold, but there was something that still eluded him—the Rokushiki techniques. Every day, Vulcan found himself thinking about Hina's effortless use of the Rankyaku (Tempest Kick). The fluidity of her kick, the sharp air blades that had cut through the air like they were nothing. He had tried to replicate it over and over, but no matter how much he trained, something was missing.
Today, like most days, Vulcan found himself standing in the sparring ring, his opponent across from him. The other recruits watched in silence, eyes fixed on the match that was about to unfold. Vulcan's reputation as one of the strongest among them had grown, but despite his victories, his mind was restless—he wanted more.
"Don't get cocky!" Garp's voice boomed from the sidelines. "You're not trying any fancy moves you haven't mastered yet, got it?"
Vulcan nodded but couldn't shake the feeling that today would be different. He had been practicing the Rankyaku on his own, late into the night after training. He had studied his movements, trying to perfect every angle, every shift in weight. He knew he was close. But it was time to test himself in a real fight.
The Sparring Match
As the sparring match began, Vulcan's opponent wasted no time, charging forward with a powerful punch aimed at Vulcan's head. Vulcan moved quickly, sidestepping the blow with ease. His body, now used to these fast-paced fights, reacted on instinct.
But as the fight continued, Vulcan's mind drifted back to the Rankyaku. He had to try it.
Waiting for the right moment, Vulcan baited his opponent into another aggressive attack. The recruit lunged forward, throwing a wild punch, and in that instant, Vulcan made his move. He pivoted on his back foot, raising his leg just like he had seen Hina do months earlier.
With a powerful sweep, he kicked through the air, imagining the force of wind that should have followed. For a brief moment, it felt right—like the technique had clicked into place.
But nothing happened.
The sharp air blade he had expected never materialized. His kick hit nothing but empty air.
His opponent, caught off guard by the sudden high kick, recovered quickly and pressed the advantage, aiming a punch at Vulcan's exposed side. Vulcan barely managed to block, stumbling back in frustration.
Damn it! Vulcan cursed internally. He had failed again.
But there was no time to dwell on it. His opponent was coming at him fast, his fists flying in a flurry of strikes. Vulcan refocused, pushing the failed attempt out of his mind. If the Rankyaku wasn't going to work, he'd rely on what he knew best—his fists.
The recruit threw another punch, but Vulcan dodged, his body moving like water. With a quick burst of speed, Vulcan countered, delivering a powerful punch to the recruit's midsection. The impact sent his opponent staggering back, gasping for air.
Vulcan didn't let up. He closed the distance with swift steps and delivered a sharp elbow to the recruit's chest, knocking him off balance. Before his opponent could recover, Vulcan swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Match!" one of the instructors shouted.
The other recruits erupted into murmurs, impressed by Vulcan's victory. But Vulcan wasn't satisfied. He had won the fight, but the Rokushiki technique still eluded him.
As the other recruits dispersed, Garp walked over, his usual grin plastered on his face. "You did well, brat, but I told you not to mess around with moves you haven't mastered yet."
Vulcan clenched his fists, frustration gnawing at him. "I thought I had it. I thought I was close."
"You thought wrong," Garp replied, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "You're not going to learn the Rokushiki by copying what you've seen. It takes years of hard training and experience to master those techniques. You're still too focused on doing it perfectly."
Vulcan looked up, his eyes burning with determination. "So how do I learn it? How do I master the Rokushiki?"
Garp's grin widened. "You've got to survive."
A New Test: Survive the Island
That evening, Vulcan found himself standing on the deck of a Marine ship, the cool ocean breeze whipping through his hair. In the distance, an island loomed, shrouded in mist. The jungle that covered its surface looked thick and impenetrable, and the sounds of unknown creatures echoed faintly across the water.
Garp stood beside him, arms crossed as he stared at the island. "You want to learn the Rokushiki techniques, brat? Then this is where you're going to start."
Vulcan glanced at the island, his heart racing with anticipation. "What's on the island?"
"Beasts. Dangerous ones," Garp said casually, as if sending someone to an island full of deadly creatures was the most natural thing in the world. "If you want to survive here, you'll have to rely on everything you've learned so far. And if you're serious about learning the Rokushiki, this place will test your limits."
The ship pulled closer to the island's shore, and as it did, Vulcan could see the sheer wildness of the jungle. It was unlike anything he had ever seen—untamed, wild, and full of hidden dangers.
When the ship finally anchored, Garp turned to Vulcan and tossed him a small, leather-bound book. Vulcan caught it and looked down at the cover.
Rokushiki Techniques: A Marine's Guide.
"This handbook will be your guide," Garp said with a grin. "But don't expect it to do the work for you. You'll have to figure things out on your own."
Vulcan tucked the book into his bag, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He was ready for this. He had trained for years under Garp, survived his harsh training, and fought powerful opponents. But this—being left alone on an island full of dangerous beasts—felt different.
"You'll stay here for a few months," Garp added, stepping back toward the ship. "Learn to survive. Learn to fight. And if you come out of this alive, maybe you'll be ready for the Rokushiki."
Vulcan gave a determined nod. "I'll make it."
Garp chuckled. "You'd better, brat. I'm not coming back to rescue you if you don't."
With that, Garp turned and boarded the ship, which slowly began to pull away from the shore, leaving Vulcan standing alone on the sandy beach. The sound of the ship's engine faded into the distance, leaving only the sound of the wind and the distant roars of beasts from within the jungle.
Vulcan looked out at the dense, dark forest before him. He knew the challenges ahead would be unlike anything he had faced before, but his determination burned stronger than ever.
With a deep breath, he turned toward the jungle.
"Time to survive."