"One-Eyed" Wally was a native of the Grand Line. Once upon a time, he had been the honorable captain of the guard for a merchant vessel. His swordsmanship was exceptional; just one more step, and he would officially cross the threshold into the realm of a Master Swordsman. During a brutal pirate raid, he had lost an eye, but he had fought with reckless abandon and successfully driven the invaders away.
Unfortunately, the merchant captain was anything but grateful. He berated Wally as a useless, incompetent failure, blaming him for all the expensive cargo damaged during the skirmish. While he didn't explicitly demand compensation, every venomous word placed the blame squarely on Wally's shoulders.
Losing an eye was agonizing enough. Being denied any credit and forced to take the fall for the attack was the final straw. In a fit of sheer rage, Wally slaughtered the captain, hijacked the merchant ship, and launched his new career as a pirate.
Five years had passed since that day, and Wally had carved out a decent name for himself, racking up a bounty of thirty-five million Berries.
Right now, however, Wally was absolutely furious. His original plan had been to lay low in the Sabaody Archipelago for a week to get his ship coated, restock supplies, and immediately dive into the New World. Instead, his stay had been a nonstop parade of disasters.
On the very first day, his combat captain, "Iron Hook" Hawke, went out drinking with two lackeys and never came back.
Hawke was a veteran of the crew and a ferocious fighter. He had once lost his left hand in a battle, but he'd taken his opponent's head in exchange. After strapping a heavy iron hook to his stump, Hawke had become even more ruthless and fearless, earning him a promotion to combat captain. Hawke knew the rules; missing curfew without a word meant only one thing—someone had taken him out.
Desperate to keep the crew's morale from shattering, Wally sent men to scour the island for two straight days. They found absolutely nothing. Not a trace, not a whisper.
Then, on the seventh day, the unthinkable happened: Ponte, their navigator, vanished.
Losing Hawke had made Wally angry, but losing Ponte drove him completely insane. Competent fighters were a dime a dozen on the Grand Line, but a navigator capable of reading these chaotic seas was an incredibly rare commodity. They were heading to Fish-Man Island next. Trying to navigate those treacherous, crushing underwater currents without a skilled navigator was basically mass suicide.
Wally ordered the entire crew to tear the island apart. This time, they finally found Ponte—specifically, his face plastered on a promotional flyer for the Human Auctioning House in Grove 1. Ponte was scheduled for the auction block in exactly seven days, with a starting bid of two million Berries. Wally was so furious he nearly shattered his own teeth.
Left with no other choice, Wally scrambled to scrape together enough cash to buy Ponte back, while simultaneously sending men to secretly recruit a backup navigator just in case. But finding a navigator—let alone one willing to join a wanted pirate crew—was next to impossible. Before he knew it, it was the day before Ponte's auction.
'Why is it always Tekkai? Do they really need to practice Iron Body every single day? Are they completely sick in the head? Don't they know Tekkai is a literal death sentence?'
'Oh, wait. Someone over there is practicing Kami-e, and they've actually got the basics down! Not bad at all. I'll be taking that.'
Perched high atop a towering Yarukiman Mangrove branch, Bardock peered down at the Marine Base training grounds. At this extreme distance, an ordinary person wouldn't even be able to see the courtyard, let alone the soldiers. But with his Fiery Golden Eyes, Bardock could see everything in terrifying detail—he could even count the individual drops of sweat sliding down the Marines' faces.
He had scouted out this sniper's nest during his very first bounty drop-off. There was no way he was going to forget his master plan to steal the Marines' Rokushiki martial arts.
Rokushiki—the Six Powers—was the collective name for a superhuman martial arts style comprising Soru, Geppo, Tekkai, Kami-e, Rankyaku, and Shigan. It was the ultimate combat package, covering rapid displacement, aerial mobility, iron-clad defense, fluid evasion, close-quarters assassination, and ranged strikes. These techniques pushed the human body far beyond its natural limits. Within the Marines, only commissioned officers were granted permission to learn them, and most only ever managed to master one or two forms.
If someone managed to master all six, they had a chance to unlock the hidden technique known as Life Return, granting them absolute, conscious control over every single fiber of their body, from their hair down to their internal organs.
Bardock was mainly interested in Soru (Shave) and Geppo (Moonwalk). His Mythical Zoan form already provided god-tier defense, and he was developing his swordsmanship for attack power. What he desperately lacked was explosive, rapid mobility. But to his immense frustration, the vast majority of the officers in this courtyard seemed entirely obsessed with Tekkai, standing around shirtless and letting their subordinates beat them with sticks to build up their physical resistance.
'Finally, here comes the old man. Hurry up and start, I'm dying of anticipation up here,' Bardock thought, perking up as an elderly Marine strolled onto the training field.
Bardock was here at this exact time because he had eavesdropped on the Marines' patrol schedules the night before. This old man was the Base Commander of Grove 66, Vice Admiral Pritz Ford. While not a famous character from the manga timeline, the elderly Vice Admiral was still an absolute powerhouse. Despite his age, he made a point to hit the training yard for exactly one hour before clocking out every day.
Ford waved off the salutes of the surrounding soldiers, signaling them to continue their own drills. He shucked off his Marine coat and uniform shirt, revealing a heavily scarred, densely muscled torso that completely defied his age, and began his warm-ups. His fluid, practiced stretches naturally drew the awe and attention of the younger recruits.
Once warmed up, Ford initiated his routine. He started with Soru.
In the span of a single heartbeat, he kicked the ground dozens of times, generating an explosive reactionary force. Ford vanished, reappearing across the courtyard like a teleporting phantom, flashing from one corner to the next. To the naked eye, he was completely untraceable.
But Bardock was an exception. His golden eyes locked onto the Vice Admiral's blurring legs, tracking every single micro-movement. A wide grin spread across his face. He finally understood the secret to Soru. Kicking the ground dozens of times in an instant was crucial, yes, but the real key was absolute muscle tension—holding back the explosive release of all that built-up kinetic energy until the very final kick. That was exactly why Bardock had failed to replicate it previously, despite knowing the basic theory from the manga.
Without missing a beat, Ford transitioned from his high-speed dashes straight into Geppo. Pushing off the ground with catastrophic force, he kicked the empty air, the sheer leg strength creating a pocket of compressed air that allowed him to walk upward as if climbing an invisible staircase.
Bardock's eyes widened. He realized that Geppo and Soru shared the exact same foundational muscle mechanics; the way the power was channeled was incredibly similar.
Dropping back to the dirt, Ford landed squarely in front of a row of thick wooden training dummies. He thrust his index finger forward—Shigan.
His finger blurred into a deadly flurry, punching through the solid wood as easily as a hot knife through butter. Thwack, thwack, thwack! He didn't stop until all five heavy logs were riddled with holes, looking more like Swiss cheese than training equipment.
Stepping back, Ford swung his leg in a sweeping arc—Rankyaku.
The supersonic, high-pressure kick violently churned the air, launching a crescent-shaped vacuum blade that instantly cleaved the ruined wooden dummies into a shower of splinters.
"Hahaha! Looks like this old man can still put up a decent fight!" Ford chuckled, rolling his shoulders.
He didn't bother demonstrating Tekkai or Kami-e. Ever since he had mastered Armament and Observation Haki years ago, he rarely relied on those two forms. And since he was nearing retirement, this light workout was more than enough to keep his blood pumping.
Up in the tree, Bardock let out a deeply satisfied breath. He had finally collected all the visual data needed for the offensive and mobility forms of the Six Powers. Now, all he had to do was put in the physical work.
The path leading from Grove 66 back to his rental house in Grove 46 was completely deserted. Unable to contain his excitement, Bardock decided to test out his newly acquired knowledge immediately.
'I'll start by reducing the number of kicks to build the muscle memory, then ramp up the intensity once I get the rhythm down.'
Bardock was a man of action. He dropped into a low stance and rapidly stomped the ground. But his timing was off—he failed to hold the kinetic energy back, and the premature release simply caused him to stumble awkwardly forward.
He stopped, stared at his feet for a few seconds, and reset his stance. He tried again.
He continued to experiment, analyzing his failures and tweaking his muscle tension with every step as he walked home. Slowly, the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the archipelago in twilight.
Swish!
Bardock suddenly blurred, flashing several meters down the dirt path.
Swish!
He instantly reappeared back where he started.
"Yes! Finally!" Bardock cheered, clenching his fists. "I just leveled up again! Alright, let's go all out this time. I want to see exactly how much distance I can cover with a single Soru."
He grounded himself, his leg muscles coiling like high-tension springs, and unleashed the full sequence.
Boom!
The explosive crack against the dirt was significantly louder this time. He vanished, reappearing a staggering twelve meters down the path—more than double his previous distance. And his body was still growing and adapting. How far would he be able to teleport with a single Soru once he hit his physical prime?
Just as he was admiring the crater he'd left in the dirt, a chilling sensation washed over him.
"Who's there?! Come out!" Bardock snapped, glaring at the massive mangrove root bordering the path.
He hadn't seen anyone, but the naked, suffocating killing intent leaking from the shadows was far too intense to ignore.