chapter-35 Command room of the warship

During the college entrance examination, his goal was to get into a prestigious university in another province, but he fell short by just a few points. Due to financial constraints, he chose not to retake the exam and instead enrolled at a local university. That was the second blow to his aspirations.

Then, as a civil engineering graduate, he ended up working as a marketer after college. That was the third disappointment.

Thinking about these moments made Loya laugh. Did he have dreams? Of course he did!

He wanted that girl to be his girlfriend. He wanted to get into a top university. He wanted to make a mark in the construction industry.

But what did it matter?

It was as if his life had been meticulously mapped out, and fate had played a cruel joke on him. What could he do about it?

It's like being transmigrated into a new world—could anyone have predicted he'd show up in a ragtag group with a cup of instant noodles? Completely unpredictable!

Smiling to himself, Loya continued, "But now, those dreams have changed. I have new goals."

Mole perked up when he heard this. "What are they?"

"I want to be the strongest in the world!"

Loya raised his fist toward the sky, spreading his fingers as if trying to grasp the blue expanse above.

"Since I've gained this power, mediocrity will never be an option. From now on, I'll fight for this goal... no, this dream! This is my dream!"

"Becoming... the strongest in the world?" Mole murmured, repeating Loya's words. Looking at the confident, smiling young man before him, Mole shook his head. "Your dream is really lofty. I thought you'd say something about upholding naval justice."

"Do you really think the navy is righteous, Vice Admiral Mole?"

Loya's voice grew cold, making Mole stiffen. He frowned, his tone serious. "Loya! What do you mean by that? Don't forget you're a part of the navy!"

"I know. Of course, I know." Loya ignored Mole's darkening expression. "But, Lieutenant General Mole, what is justice? You've probably heard the saying that justice will always prevail."

"But do you realize that, in this world, justice belongs to the victors? It's a matter of order: victory comes first, then justice."

"Are you suggesting the navy isn't just, but merely a victor?" Mole asked slowly, disturbed by Loya's reasoning.

"Well, who knows..." Loya said with a cryptic smile. "It's like Schrödinger's cat—caught between life and death until the box is opened. For now, let's call ourselves the righteous navy. Oh, and you probably don't know about Schrödinger, but just remember this: he's a cat abuser, so feel free to beat him up if you meet him."

With that, Loya stood up, dusted off his pants, and started heading off to lunch.

Mole stayed where he was, staring out at the sea, deep in thought.

Under his sleeve, a black Den Den Mushi clicked and fell silent.

In the warship's command room, Zefa stood by the window, gazing at the sea.

"So, you think the same way I do... Loya," he murmured.

Knock knock knock.

The sound of knocking pulled Zefa out of his reverie. He returned to his desk, straightened up, and said sternly, "Come in!"

It was Kuzan, who had come to bid him farewell.

"Head southeast from here, and you'll reach the East Blue," Kuzan said, sitting casually with his legs crossed. "By the way, teacher, do you want me to bring you back some local specialties?"

"Are you leaving before Loya completes the assessment?" Zefa asked. "You know I've given him a tough challenge."

"There's no need," Kuzan replied. "I've taught him everything I can. I trust he can handle it. From here on, he needs to find his own path, and that's not something I'm good at guiding him through."

Kuzan opened his eyes and looked earnestly at Zefa. "In the coming days, please be careful, teacher."

"Don't worry," Zefa reassured him. "I'll train him to be an admiral, just like you."

"Ah la la," Kuzan sighed, leaning back. "That's perfect. Being a full-fledged admiral is exhausting—no time to sleep, just working until you drop."