"1!"
"2!"
"3!"
The instructors did not give the candidates any time to hesitate.
The moment the assessment began, their voices echoed across the training grounds as they counted each repetition.
Those who could no longer maintain proper form were immediately identified by the supervising instructors.
Anyone who reached their physical limit was escorted out of the testing area.
There was no room for pride or stubbornness.
The Special Training Camp was not an ordinary Marine training program.
The intensity of the exercises could cause serious injuries if candidates were allowed to push themselves beyond their limits.
The instructors therefore had a responsibility to prevent exhausted candidates from continuing until they seriously harmed themselves.
"Go and remove anyone who has reached their limit."
"Yes, sir!"
Several instructors immediately moved among the candidates.
Their eyes constantly examined the trainees' movements.
The assessment continued.
"697!"
The instructors observing from the side carefully recorded the number of candidates still capable of maintaining the required standard.
Zone Two had originally contained roughly five hundred candidates.
Yet by this point, only around one hundred remained.
The elimination rate was astonishing.
Nearly eighty percent of the candidates had already been removed during the first physical assessment.
"698!"
The counting continued.
Some candidates were still moving steadily.
Others were already trembling from exhaustion.
"They can't even handle this?"
One instructor frowned.
"698!"
The number echoed across the training ground.
Among the remaining candidates, one particular figure continued to push forward despite the pain spreading through her arms.
Tashigi.
Her glasses were slightly crooked from the constant movement, and sweat covered her forehead.
Yet she refused to stop.
"698!"
Her arms were burning.
Every repetition had become a struggle.
But she continued.
Tashigi had trained regularly since joining the Marines.
She was not physically weak.
However, completing hundreds of consecutive push-ups under strict examination conditions was completely different from ordinary daily training.
She gritted her teeth.
"I can still continue."
"699!"
Her arms trembled.
"700!"
Tashigi's breathing became heavier.
"701!"
She continued.
She had promised herself that she would prove Smoker wrong.
She had also promised Saint Roselith Seraphina that she would not give up simply because the training was difficult.
"800!"
Tashigi's entire body shook.
"8…00!"
Her face had turned bright red.
She could barely feel her arms anymore.
Her muscles were screaming for her to stop.
She lowered herself again.
But before she could complete another repetition, a messenger hurried toward the senior officer overseeing the assessment.
"Sir!"
The officer turned.
"The Chief Instructor has issued new instructions."
"What are they?"
"We can terminate the first assessment here."
The senior officer's eyes narrowed.
"Understood."
He immediately gave the order.
"Stop the assessment!"
The instructors raised their voices.
"Everyone stop!"
The remaining candidates froze.
Some collapsed onto the ground.
Others simply remained on their knees, gasping for breath.
Tashigi stared blankly ahead.
"It's… over?"
The senior officer addressed the exhausted candidates.
"The first physical assessment is complete."
"Those who are still standing will proceed to the next stage."
"The remaining candidates are to rest and recover."
"Tomorrow, you will undergo the written assessment."
"I expect everyone to be prepared."
The candidates responded weakly.
"Yes, sir!"
The senior officer turned and left.
The original target had been one thousand push-ups.
However, the instructors had determined that eight hundred repetitions were already sufficient to distinguish candidates with exceptional physical endurance from ordinary Marine personnel.
Continuing beyond that point would provide diminishing returns while increasing the risk of injury.
For the Special Training Camp, the purpose of the first examination was not simply to discover who could perform the highest number of push-ups.
It was to determine who possessed sufficient physical foundation, discipline, endurance, and determination to continue.
Tashigi slowly lowered herself onto the ground.
Her arms were completely numb.
"It's really over…"
She shook her hands desperately, trying to restore circulation.
A moment later, she rubbed her tired eyes.
She had genuinely believed she was about to fail.
At around eight hundred repetitions, she had already been preparing herself for elimination.
She had thought Smoker might be right.
Perhaps her current strength really was insufficient.
Yet the assessment had ended before she could prove whether she could reach one thousand.
Tashigi looked down at her trembling hands.
"One thousand push-ups…"
"That really is too much."
Despite her exhaustion, a faint smile appeared on her face.
"At least I made it through the first assessment."
A Marine guide soon arrived.
"Candidate Tashigi."
"Yes?"
"Follow me."
Tashigi slowly stood.
Her legs felt heavy.
Her arms hung uselessly at her sides.
She followed the guide toward the dormitories prepared for the candidates.
Every step reminded her of how thoroughly the first assessment had exhausted her.
But she had survived.
And tomorrow would bring another challenge.
…
"Lieutenant General, this is the list of candidates who passed the first assessment."
A Marine staff officer handed the compiled records to Saint Roselith Seraphina.
Seraphina looked through the list.
Her eyebrows rose slightly.
"That's all?"
The staff officer nodded.
"Yes, Vice Admiral."
Seraphina looked at the number of successful candidates again.
Out of several thousand candidates who had initially entered the selection process, fewer than one thousand had survived the first physical assessment.
"That many were eliminated by the first exercise?"
The staff officer immediately explained.
"The eight-hundred-repetition standard was already extremely demanding."
"For ordinary Marines, reaching that level of physical endurance is difficult."
"Most of the candidates simply did not possess the physical foundation necessary to continue."
Seraphina fell silent.
She had to admit that her own standards were considerably different from those of ordinary Marines.
Her physical abilities, swordsmanship, and combat experience had placed her far beyond the level of an average Marine officer.
Comparing ordinary candidates to herself would therefore be unreasonable.
"Still…"
"Only around nine hundred remain?"
The staff officer nodded.
"Yes."
Seraphina looked thoughtful.
The overall physical quality of this year's candidates was weaker than she had expected.
At the same time, she understood that the Special Training Camp was supposed to select the best of the best.
There was no reason to lower the standard simply to fill every available position.
Zeff walked over and heard the conversation.
"Saint Roselith, you have to understand."
"Not everyone possesses your talent."
Seraphina glanced at him.
Zeff smiled.
"Your physical ability has never been ordinary."
"The same goes for your swordsmanship."
"If we used your standards for every Marine, the entire headquarters would be empty."
Seraphina sighed.
"I suppose you're right."
She then remembered Riva.
That young man had been able to complete his basic physical training with surprising ease.
Compared with him, these candidates really were far behind.
Seraphina took another look at the records.
She then checked the historical records from previous Special Training Camp selections.
The written assessment had historically eliminated relatively few candidates.
Most of the difficult filtering occurred during the physical and combat stages.
"The second assessment is the written examination."
"According to the previous records, the elimination rate shouldn't be particularly high."
Zeff laughed.
"That's because the written examination is relatively straightforward."
"The candidates are tested on Marine regulations, discipline, basic combat theory, physical conditioning, emergency procedures, and their understanding of Marine responsibilities."
"It isn't designed to be an academic examination."
Seraphina nodded.
She understood the reasoning.
The Marines were not trying to create scholars.
They were trying to develop capable officers who could lead soldiers, survive battles, understand orders, and make decisions under pressure.
The existing examination therefore made sense.
But something still bothered her.
"The questions have barely changed over the years, haven't they?"
Zeff's smile faded slightly.
"They're familiar."
"Perhaps too familiar."
Seraphina shook her head.
"That isn't what I mean."
Zeff looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"I want to change the examination."
Zeff stared at her.
"You want to change the questions?"
"Yes."
Seraphina's tone was calm.
"The current written examination is too predictable."
"If candidates can memorize the answers from previous years, then we aren't truly examining their judgment."
Zeff thought about it.
She had a point.
The Special Training Camp was intended to cultivate future Marine officers.
An officer needed more than physical strength.
They needed judgment.
They needed conviction.
They needed the ability to make decisions when orders were unclear and circumstances were changing rapidly.
Zeff folded his arms.
"This is my final term as an instructor."
"Perhaps it really is time to make some changes."
He looked at Seraphina.
"So, what do you propose?"
Seraphina considered the question.
"I don't want to replace the existing examination."
"I only want to add one open-ended question."
"One question that cannot be answered simply by memorizing Marine regulations."
Zeff became interested.
"An essay question?"
"Something like that."
Seraphina nodded.
"A subjective question."
Zeff shifted his position.
"All right."
"Tell me."
"What question could possibly justify changing the examination?"
Seraphina looked toward the distant training grounds.
Then she spoke.
"What is justice?"
Zeff's expression immediately changed.
"What?"
He stared at her.
"Justice?"
"Yes."
"That's your question?"
Seraphina nodded.
"Yes."
Zeff opened his mouth.
He instinctively wanted to answer.
Justice was the foundation of the Marines.
Justice was what every Marine claimed to uphold.
Justice was the principle written into their actions, their uniforms, and their very identity.
But when Zeff tried to formulate a definitive answer, he stopped.
His expression became complicated.
What exactly was justice?
Was justice following orders?
Was justice protecting innocent civilians?
Was justice eliminating pirates?
Was justice obeying the World Government?
Was justice protecting the weak, even when doing so meant disobeying orders?
Was justice absolute?
Or did justice depend on the circumstances?
Zeff remained silent.
Seraphina watched him.
"You see?"
Zeff slowly exhaled.
"Yeah."
"Justice…"
"What exactly is it?"
For the first time, the question felt considerably heavier than its four words suggested.
It was not a question about memorizing Marine regulations.
It was a question about the kind of person each candidate wanted to become.
And perhaps that was exactly why Seraphina wanted to ask it.
She wasn't merely searching for strong Marines.
She was searching for people whose convictions were compatible with the path she intended to walk.
…
New WorldMarine FrontlineThe sea was stained with the aftermath of battle.
A pirate stronghold had been reduced to ruins.
Several Marines were securing the area while others searched the wreckage for survivors and valuable information.
A pirate collapsed onto the ground.
Ain withdrew her sword.
The blade was immediately returned to its sheath.
"Shuzo."
The massive Marine standing beside her looked toward Ain.
"Yes?"
"Is this really Vice Admiral Zephyr's final year instructing the Special Training Camp?"
Shuzo's expression became serious.
"It may be."
Ain looked toward the distant sea.
"Why?"
"Teacher Zephyr has already informed Headquarters that he may not continue after this term."
"He's getting older."
"And every year, he watches his former students die on the battlefield."
Ain's expression darkened.
She understood what Shuzo meant.
The Marines and pirates had been fighting for generations.
Every new generation of Marines produced more soldiers.
Every new generation of pirates produced more enemies.
And between them were countless graves.
Many of Zephyr's former students had eventually gone to war.
Some returned wounded.
Others never returned at all.
The old Marine had dedicated his life to raising soldiers who could protect the innocent.
But watching those same students perish year after year had gradually become unbearable.
Shuzo clenched his fist.
"Teacher Zephyr doesn't want to keep watching his students bury their own comrades."
"The war against piracy is becoming more intense."
"The number of casualties keeps increasing."
Ain lowered her eyes.
"So…"
"I want to return and see Teacher Zephyr."
Shuzo nodded.
"Then finish this mission quickly."
Ain looked ahead.
"Understood."
The two Marines continued forward.
Neither of them knew exactly what the future held.
But one thing was certain.
The Marines were entering a period of change.
And with the next generation preparing to enter the Special Training Camp, the question of justice would soon be placed before hundreds of young Marines.
For Saint Roselith Seraphina, that single question might reveal more about a candidate than a thousand push-ups ever could.
✦ [SYSTEM] ✦
[A new evaluation criterion has been established.]
[Assessment Topic: "What is justice?"]
[Purpose: Identify candidates possessing independent judgment, strong convictions, and compatibility with the host's ideals.]
[Special Note: Physical strength determines survival.]
[Conviction determines the path upon which that strength will be used.]
Seraphina's eyes remained fixed on the candidates below.
The Special Training Camp had only just begun.
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