Chapter 28 Naval Academy

Zefa decided to have Satoru stay at his own home. With no family left, Zefa's villa had been a quiet, empty place for years. Satoru's arrival brought a new sense of life to the home.

The villa was surprisingly elegant. Its yard, full of flowers and plants, was meticulously maintained, hinting at Zefa's sentimental side despite his rough exterior.

"When you're training, don't even think about destroying these flowers," Zefa warned with a stern voice. "They're precious to me."

Satoru glanced around, noting the care put into the garden. "I'll try to be careful," he replied, amused at this unexpected hobby of his gruff master.

Inside, Satoru noticed a framed photo on a cabinet: Zefa with his family, smiling amidst the garden that now surrounded the house. It didn't take much to guess that the flowers were planted by Zefa's late wife. The garden wasn't just a hobby—it was a memory.

That evening, Zefa cooked dinner himself. Surprisingly, his cooking was leagues better than Garp's infamous meals.

"Rest early," Zefa said after dinner. "Tomorrow, we're heading to the Naval Academy. With your strength, you'll easily join the elite class. But remember, no bullying your classmates. I won't tolerate it."

"Yes, Master," Satoru replied. Yet, a thought lingered in his mind: *As long as they don't bully me first.*

Satoru lived by a simple rule: Don't provoke me, and I won't provoke you. But if you start something, be prepared to face the consequences.

---

The Next Morning

By the time Zefa woke up, Satoru was already drenched in sweat, finishing his morning training. His movements were precise, every exercise deliberate.

"You've been training for a while, haven't you?" Zefa observed. "I must say, your regimen is well-balanced. Every muscle group gets attention. It's... impressive."

"Thanks," Satoru replied. "I came up with it myself."

Zefa's eyebrows shot up. "Inventing your own method? You're not just talented—you're a genius. Most people wouldn't even know where to start."

Satoru smirked inwardly. *If only you knew this was borrowed from a completely different world.*

"Alright, let's eat breakfast and head to the Academy," Zefa said, still marveling at his new apprentice's potential.

---

Arrival at the Naval Academy

The Naval Academy gates loomed ahead, and the guards at the entrance stood at attention the moment they spotted Zefa.

"Mr. Zefa!" they saluted in unison, their tone filled with respect.

Zefa nodded, gesturing toward Satoru. "Register him. He'll be a new student here."

"Yes, sir."

The guards couldn't help but steal glances at Satoru. His striking presence was magnetic, his every movement confident yet measured.

"What's your name, kid?" one of the guards asked, preparing the paperwork.

"Monkey D. Satoru," he answered plainly.

The guards froze. "Monkey... D.?" they repeated, eyes widening in recognition. That name carried weight—too much weight. Could he be related to *the* Monkey D. Garp?

---

Entering the Elite Class

Walking through the Academy grounds, Zefa was greeted with respect at every turn. Satoru, meanwhile, felt the curious stares of the cadets and instructors. Whispers followed him, with some speculating that he might be Zefa's illegitimate son.

Eventually, they arrived at the elite class, where thirty of the Academy's top students trained.

"Listen up!" Zefa commanded, his voice carrying authority. "This is your new classmate, Satoru. Don't let his age fool you—he's the strongest among you."

The declaration hung in the air like a bombshell.

Satoru felt a surge of annoyance. *Seriously, Master? You just painted a massive target on my back.*

Initially, the students were curious about Satoru. But Zefa's words turned their curiosity into open hostility. To them, this was a challenge.

"Don't doubt me," Zefa continued. "You'll see the truth soon enough. From now on, Satoru will train alongside you. If any of you can't keep up with him, you're free to leave the elite class. I don't tolerate mediocrity."

"Sir, we won't lose to a junior!" a tall, muscular cadet declared, his voice ringing with conviction.

Zefa smiled in approval. "Good. That's the attitude I want. Prove yourselves."

The cadet was one of Zefa's most promising students. Based on his current trajectory, he had the potential to become a Vice Admiral. But now, even he was determined to measure himself against this mysterious new rival.

Satoru, however, was unimpressed. He crossed his arms and let his eyes scan the room. If they want to compete, let them. But they'll regret underestimating me.