Logue Town, East Blue
The World Military Draft of the Marines has been underway for a week now. All around the world, Marine bases were bustling with activity as they intaked and assessed new recruits. Even though the Marines, under the orders of the new Fleet Admiral, wanted to bolster their ranks, they didn't rush to accept everyone who applied.
Most of the regular folk were signing up, not out of a desire to serve justice but because they knew they would be fed. For many, the prospect of regular meals was more appealing than the abstract notions of justice and duty.
Among the throngs of hopefuls and curious onlookers was a small boy, no older than six or seven. His eyes darted nervously around as he made sure no one was watching him. His gaze was fixed on a fruit stall where the vendor was busy bartering with another customer. The military draft had drawn an increasing number of people to the Marine base each day, creating a bustling, chaotic scene.
Seizing his opportunity, the boy moved with cat-like reflexes, grabbing a bag of apples from the counter before anyone could notice. He sprinted away, but as luck would have it, he ran directly into a group of Marine soldiers heading in the opposite direction.
"Thief! Thief! Someone catch that little bastard!" The shopkeeper roared, his voice cutting through the din and catching the attention of the Marine soldiers.
Just as the boy was about to dart past them, one of the soldiers reached out and grabbed him by the hair. The boy screamed in pain, dropping the bag of apples. Another soldier picked up the fallen bag and took a bite out of one of the apples, his eyes narrowing as he chewed.
"Theft at such a young age," the soldier sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. He roughly yanked the boy by the hair, forcing him to his knees. The boy's eyes were wide with terror, his small frame shaking.
The second soldier, a hulking figure with a cruel glint in his eyes, stepped forward. "It looks like we need to teach you a lesson," he growled, planting a fist into the boy's gut. The boy crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.
A crowd had started to gather, some watching with pity, others with indifference. Among the spectators was a Marine officer named Lieutenant Helmeppo. He was known for his somewhat lazy demeanor, but there was a streak of justice in him that couldn't stand seeing the abuse of power.
Just as the Marine was about to kick the boy again, a figure moved at blinding speed, delivering a powerful punch to the Marine's face and sending him flying into a wall. The sudden turn of events left everyone in shock. Attacking a Marine during the military draft, especially so close to a Marine base, was a blatant insult to the Marines' prestige.
The Marines didn't hesitate for another second, immediately brandishing their weapons at the woman who had intervened. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, standing close to 3 meters tall, with striking blue eyes and spiky silver hair that gave her a tomboyish, fierce appearance. She had a white-sheathed Odachi strapped to her back.
Her attire consisted of a tight combat vest over a sports tank top, revealing her voluptuous form, and short trousers that exposed her muscular thighs. Knee-length boots completed her formidable look, embodying the essence of a fierce tigress ready for battle.
"You dare attack a Marine!" one of the soldiers shouted, his gun cocked and ready. More Marines started to gather, drawn by the commotion, but the woman disregarded the growing tension and turned towards the little boy.
She knelt down next to him, her fierce expression softening. "Are you alright?" she asked gently. The boy looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, nodding slightly.
"What's your name?"
"M-Miko," the boy whispered.
"Where are your parents, Miko? And why are you stealing? Don't you know that stealing is wrong?" The woman, Raylene, asked, her voice gentle yet firm.
"I... I don't have any," Miko replied, his voice barely audible. "My little sister... she's hungry. We haven't had anything to eat for three days now. I... I didn't want to steal, but... but my sister."
Raylene understood the boy's situation. This was a common story in a world where only a privileged few got what they wanted, while the rest struggled daily. She stood and faced the vendor. "How much for the apples?" she asked, pulling out a few coins from her vest pocket.
The vendor, taken aback by the woman's intervention, stammered, "F-five berries."
Raylene handed over the money, then turned back to the soldiers. "Next time you see a child in trouble, help them, don't hurt them. Understood?"
"Dumb bitch! Who the hell do you think you are, lecturing us on how Marines should act? The boy is a thief, and he needs to be punished. And you... you are aiding a criminal! Do you know what kind of crime it is to attack a Marine?" One of the Marines responded angrily, feeling insulted as more and more civilians gathered to witness the confrontation.
"Ptui!" Raylene spat, her face twisting into a feral grin. "You call yourselves Marines? I originally wanted to see if the Marines were worthy of joining, but it seems like you lot are just as corrupt as the rest of the world. There is not much difference between you and the pirates," she chuckled.
Originally, Raylene had intended to visit the scaffold where the Pirate King was executed and see if she could join the Marines. She was strong, exceptionally so, and she wanted to make a difference, even if only in a small way. Believing the Marines were a force for justice, she had thoughts of joining them. But now her thoughts were wavering.
"Surrender peacefully, or else you know the consequences," the Marines circled her, but she stood there defiantly. She knew she could take them all with a flick of her finger and couldn't help but smile at how clueless these Marines were about the disparity between their abilities and hers.
Raylene's stance was unwavering, her presence exuding confidence and raw power. The civilians watching from a distance could feel the tension thickening in the air. She eyed each Marine, assessing their resolve and finding them wanting. These men, who should have been symbols of justice and protection, had shown their true colors through their treatment of a helpless child.
The Marine who had been sent flying earlier struggled to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. His eyes burned with humiliation and rage. "You think you can just walk away from this?" he growled, his voice trembling with anger.
Raylene's eyes flicked at him, and she smirked. "I don't think. I know."
The Marine lunged at her, but with a swift, fluid motion, Raylene sidestepped and brought her knee up into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.
The moment Raylene made her decision not to stand down, the atmosphere thickened with tension. She stood her ground as the Marines surrounded her, their weapons drawn, eyes gleaming with a mixture of fear and determination. She knew she had to be careful—not because she was outmatched, but because she didn't want to kill anyone.
"You made a big mistake, you bitch!" one of the Marines snarled, stepping forward with his sword raised.
Raylene's response was swift. She ducked under his swing, delivering a bone-crunching punch to his gut, sending him sprawling to the ground. Another Marine lunged at her with a spear. She sidestepped, grabbed the spear's shaft, and used it to pole vault herself over his head, delivering a brutal kick to the back of his skull. He fell to the ground, unconscious.
Chaos erupted. Marines charged her from all directions. Raylene moved like a whirlwind, her fists and feet a blur of controlled fury. She landed blow after blow; her strikes were precise and devastating. Each Marine that came at her was met with a flurry of punches and kicks, leaving them bruised and bloody on the ground.
One Marine tried to grab her from behind, but she twisted, elbowing him in the face and breaking his nose. Another swung a mace at her, but she caught his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder, slamming him into the ground with a sickening thud. The sound of bones cracking and cries of pain filled the air.
Despite her ferocity, Raylene held back, ensuring that her strikes incapacitated but did not kill. She was a force of nature; her movements were fluid and relentless. Her blue eyes burned with intensity, her silver hair whipping around her face as she fought.
More Marines charged, trying to overwhelm her with sheer numbers. Raylene dodged and weaved, her body a blur of motion. She leaped into the air, delivering a spinning kick that sent three Marines flying. She landed gracefully, immediately launching into another attack.
A Marine with a large axe came at her, roaring in anger. Raylene dodged under his swing and drove her fist into his knee, shattering the joint. He screamed in agony as he fell, clutching his leg. She followed up with a brutal uppercut that knocked him out cold.
The ground was littered with groaning Marines, their bodies broken and bruised. Raylene stood amidst the carnage, her chest heaving with exertion. She was about to turn to check on Miko when she sensed a sudden, malicious intent.
One of the Marines, realizing they were no match for Raylene, had decided to target the boy instead. He lunged at Miko, his sword raised. Raylene's eyes widened with rage. Her observation haki flared, detecting the Marine's every movement. Her body moved before her mind could fully process it, her anger propelling her forward with deadly speed.
"No!" she roared, her voice echoing with pure fury. She reached the Marine just as he was about to strike. Her fist connected with his head with a sickening crunch, sending him flying. She dashed forward, not willing to let him go. Within seconds, she stood over him, her eyes blazing with murderous intent. As he lay on the ground, dazed and terrified, she raised her fist to deliver a fatal blow.
But before she could strike, a flash of steel intercepted her punch. The air around them exploded with a resounding boom, sending everyone within a hundred meters flying through the air. Raylene's eyes widened as she saw the man who had blocked her attack.
Standing before her was Bogard, a calm yet imposing figure with short black hair and piercing eyes. His face was stern, and his presence was commanding. He wore a long, marine coat that billowed around him, and his hand rested casually on the hilt of his sword, which was only halfway unsheathed. The power radiating from him was palpable, his aura was one of absolute control and strength.
Bogard had been Garp's right-hand man, known for his exceptional swordsmanship and unwavering loyalty to the Marine hero. His reputation was one of quiet, deadly efficiency. Few had seen him in action, but those who had spoke of his unmatched skill and ferocity.
"That's enough," Bogard said, his voice calm but firm. "There has been enough violence here today."
Raylene's eyes locked with his, and her body was still tense and ready to strike. She could sense the immense power within him, a silent threat that promised swift retribution if she continued.
"Who are you?" Raylene demanded, her voice edged with both respect and defiance.
"Bogard," he replied simply, his eyes never leaving hers. "And you?"
"Raylene," she answered, her voice steady.
The Marines, seeing a savior in Bogard, quickly began to complain. "Sir! She attacked us without due cause—" one Marine started, but his voice faltered as he felt a towering presence behind him.
Turning hastily, he was met with the fierce gaze of Marine Hero Garp, who was already aware of the situation. Beside Garp stood a little girl about four years old, who immediately ran past everyone to check on her brother, still groaning on the ground.
"Garp Chujo!" The Marine gulped, unsure whether to continue lying. Garp simply walked past him towards Raylene.
"You wanted to join the Marines?" Garp's face bloomed with a smile. He could sense the strength in Raylene, potentially strong enough to take one of the Admiral positions. Her character was something the current Marines sorely needed.
"Who are you, Gramps?" she asked instinctively. She felt she might stand a chance against the swordsman, but the old man with graying hair was a different matter altogether. Even if she used her devil fruit, she might not match him. Her instincts, which had never led her astray, screamed that she stood no chance against this old man.
Bogard couldn't help but chuckle when Raylene called Garp "Gramps." He sheathed his blade and gestured for the Marines under his command to detain the ones who had caused the commotion.
"Confine them in the Loguetown base. Strip them of their current ranks and reassign them as chore boys for a year. Whether they want to remain Marines or leave after that is up to them," Bogard ordered.
The Marines under his command, all elites, moved swiftly to subdue the more than three dozen errant Marines. Even the officers in the group were not spared. Attempting to escape punishment would brand them as deserters, ensuring they would be hunted down.
"Raylene, was it? Follow me. Let's see if you're really worthy of joining the Marines," Garp said, walking away without waiting for her response.
Raylene, momentarily dumbfounded, watched the old man. Though she initially wanted to leave, curiosity got the better of her. She followed Garp, dragging Miko and his little sister along.
As they walked, Garp led them through the bustling streets of Loguetown, with the military draft still in full swing. Crowds of hopeful recruits, seasoned Marines, and civilians filled the area, their eyes widening in surprise as they saw Garp leading the way with Raylene in tow.
"So, what brought you here, Raylene?" Garp asked without turning around, his tone casual but probing.
"I was here to sightsee; you know, this is the place where the Pirate King died and all, and I also wanted to see if the Marines were worth joining," Raylene replied, her voice steady. "But from what I've seen so far, I'm not impressed."
Garp chuckled. "You've only seen a small part of it. The Marines are far from perfect, but there are good people here. People who genuinely want to make a difference."
Raylene looked around at the bustling Marine base. "And what about you, Gramps? Are you one of the good ones?"
Garp laughed heartily. "That's for you to decide. But I've been around long enough to know that strength alone isn't enough. It's what you do with that strength that matters."
They arrived at a training ground, a vast open space right at the edge of the island filled with recruits undergoing various drills. Garp stopped and turned to Raylene.
"Show me what you've got," he said, his smile replaced by a serious expression. "Fight me."
Raylene's eyes widened. "You want me to fight you? Here?"
Garp nodded. "Here and now. If you're going to join the Marines, you need to prove your strength and your resolve."
Raylene hesitated for a moment but then stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Garp's. "Fine. Let's do this, Old Man."
*****
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Currently updated until Chapter 237.
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