Chapter 20

Loya's mind raced, piecing together a timeline like a detective.

It's 1516 now. Zephyr dies in 1522, at 74. So he's 68 now. In two years, at 70, he'll form the Pirate Guerrilla.

Zephyr's been through hell these past years, still teaching at the boot camp. So why the sudden change in two years? Why seek revenge after all this time? The shredder arm isn't even built yet.

A bold idea struck Loya. Maybe Zephyr drags his old bones to form a guerrilla team because these new recruits are unbearable. Maybe he feels hopeless and decides to take revenge before he completely withers away.

Think about it - Zephyr's taught three admirals and countless lieutenant generals!

Now, with these subpar boot camp recruits... hell, even Loya could guarantee they'd rot as paper-pushers for life, maybe reach branch lieutenant if they're lucky.

The "backbone" here is mediocrity incarnate. Relying on these disciples to defeat Edward Weevil? Pure fantasy.

Loya swallowed his ice cube and casually asked, "So, Zephyr's 68 this year. You think he'll go after that pirate in the future?"

Kuzan's eyes narrowed. "Listen, Loya," he said in a low voice, "whatever Teacher Zephyr decides to do is his choice. No one can interfere."

Loya felt a chill down his spine. "Got it, Mr. Kuzan..."

That fleeting, murderous aura was clear enough. Kuzan was warning him not to meddle. But why wasn't Kuzan stopping Zephyr himself?

They fell silent. After a while, Kuzan stood to leave. "By the way, after the assessment, recruits get a week off. Then you'll face the whole battalion's challenge. Prepare well. I'm heading to the East Blue. Don't slack in your training."

"Yes, Teacher Kuzan~"

As Kuzan walked away, Loya suddenly yelled, "Hey! Admiral Aokiji! Aren't you gonna compensate me for wrecking my house? At least fix it!"

Kuzan turned back. "Ice Age!"

Frost filled the air, and Loya's house was solidly repaired.

The next day, the reshuffled recruits set off again. Everyone already saw Loya as part of the elite battalion, but that didn't mean he'd snatched away their chances. Like Kuzan said, the top three would likely join the elite camp. But hope wasn't just pinned on rankings - it was about the strength shown during the assessment. Hard work still counted for something.

Lying on the shore, bored out of his mind, Loya chewed on a grass stem, hands behind his head, half-napping.

After sorting out the recruits' supplies, Mole hesitated, then walked over to Loya.

Hearing footsteps, Loya cracked an eye open. "Lieutenant General Mole, I sent the photos in an envelope. Let me sleep, will ya?"

After yesterday's unexpected beat-down, Loya wasn't feeling too friendly.

Mole, still conflicted, got irritated. "I said I'd plead your case to Teacher Zephyr if you gave me the photos. You only gave me one! Don't think I forgot - you flashed three when you were blackmailing me!"

Loya grumbled, "Why'd you have to remember that so clearly?"

He quickly backed down before Mole could blow up. "Alright, alright, I'll give you the rest when we get back. Seriously, worrying about this at your age?"

Mole, annoyed, paused and sat next to Loya. Loya glanced over, waiting for him to speak.

When someone's got something on their mind, their aura shifts. Loya's dragon senses picked up on Mole's change keenly.

For a while, only the sound of waves could be heard.

Ignoring the occasional screams from the forest behind them, Mole finally spoke up.

"Hey, Loya. You got any dreams?"

The question seemed oddly poetic, making Loya picture Mole as some kind of literature teacher.

Shaking off the weird mental image, Loya gave him a strange look. "Dreams? Why're you asking?"

"Just... talk to me. You can open up." Mole dodged the question, urging Loya to speak instead.

Loya found it weird. Mole wasn't usually one for motivational speeches. But people can surprise you, and Loya had no idea where this was coming from.

Mole's words stirred up memories Loya thought he'd buried. He'd figured his mediocre pre-transmigration life was forgotten, but here it was, bubbling up again.

A hint of melancholy in his eyes, Loya spoke, his mind drifting.

"Dreams? Everyone's got 'em. Usually more than one. As you go through life, some get closer, others... not so much."

A vivid memory flashed. A stormy afternoon, young Loya skipping class to play outside. When the rain hit, he had to run home, only to face a barrage of scolding.

"I want to go home!"

That had been Loya's dream while stranded on a desert island. Such a simple, childish wish. Yet so out of reach.

After a pause, Loya continued, "Back then, my dream was pretty basic. Eat well, stay warm, have fun. Not scraping by every day. I thought life would be perfect if I could eat steak daily, live in a mansion, have servants waiting on me."

He chuckled, self-deprecating. "Sounds pretty useless, huh?"

Mole nodded solemnly. "Yep."

Loya was stunned into silence.

"Ah, whatever," he thought. "Might as well keep going."

Loya mused, "I didn't have big plans. What I just said? That was really it. But life's full of curveballs."

He reminisced about his commoner past.

"Every day was a grind. Elementary, middle school, high school, college—always studying. In middle school, I had a crush. Confessed, got beaten up by her boyfriend. First lesson in life's unpredictability."

"For college, I aimed for a top uni in another province. Missed it by a hair. Couldn't afford to retry, so I ended up at an average place in my city. That was the second time."

"Then, with my civil engineering degree, I became a marketer after graduation. Third time's the charm, right?"

Loya found it darkly funny. Did he have dreams? You bet!

He wanted that girl as his girlfriend! He wanted that prestigious university! He wanted to make waves in construction!

"But what's the point?" Loya mused. "Everything seemed set in stone, and fate loved to mock me. What could I do?"

He chuckled. "Ending up in this world was like... well, who could've seen that coming?"

Smiling, Loya continued, "But now, my dreams have changed. I've got new goals."

Mole perked up. "Like what?"

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

Loya thrust his fist skyward, fingers spread wide, as if trying to grasp the blue expanse.

"With this power, no more mediocrity. From now on, I'm fighting for this goal... no, this dream!"

"Becoming... the strongest?" Mole echoed, shaking his head. "Pretty lofty. I thought you'd say something like upholding naval justice."

"Do you really think the navy is righteous, Vice Admiral Mole?" Loya's voice turned cold, startling Mole.

Frowning, Mole asked, "Loya! What are you getting at? Don't forget where you are!"

"I know, I know," Loya replied, unfazed. "But Lieutenant General, what is justice? You know the saying, 'justice will prevail.'"

"But here's the thing - in this world, 'justice' is just the victor's version. It's about order. Victory first, then justice."

"You're saying the navy isn't just, but just... winners?" Mole looked puzzled.

"Who knows?" Loya shrugged. "It's like Schrödinger's cat - both alive and dead until you open the box. For now, let's call ourselves the righteous navy. Oh, and if you ever meet Schrödinger, remember he's a cat abuser. Feel free to take him out."

With that, Loya stood up, dusted off his pants, and headed off for lunch.

Mole stayed put, gazing at the sea, lost in thought.

Under his sleeve, a black listening device clicked off.

In the warship's command room, Zephyr stood, looking out at the sea.

"So, you think like I do, Loya?"

A knock at the door snapped Zephyr back. He sat behind his desk. "Come in!"

It was Kuzan, there to say goodbye.

"Head southeast from here to reach the East Blue," Kuzan said, sitting across from Zephyr. "Want me to bring back any souvenirs, teacher?"

"Aren't you staying for Loya's assessment? You know I've given him a tough challenge."

"No need. I've taught him all I can. He'll manage. Now he needs to find his own way - not my strong suit."

Kuzan met Zephyr's eyes. "Take care of yourself in the coming days, teacher."