The Swordfish sailed across the blue waters of the Grand Line.
The sunlight was warm, the sea breeze gentle—it was one of those rare, relaxing days.
Sami lay lazily on a cushioned mat specially placed on top of the stern deck. Wearing sunglasses, he enjoyed an afternoon sunbath while listening to the soft sound of waves and the distant shouts of the crew.
"Come on! Last set of weighted squats! All the way down! Thirty reps! After that you rest!"
"Ahhh—! Big Brother Aldo! A-again?!"
"Boss… I… I can't feel my legs anymore…"
"Quit whining! If you want the numbers on your bounty posters to look good someday, you'd better train hard now! Keep going! Twenty-nine… thirty! Good! Five-minute break, then we move on to bench presses!"
"NOOO!!!"
Just as the deck filled with groans of despair, a crisp clashing sound echoed from the other side.
Clang! Clang! Clang! — Smack!
"Ow!"
A pirate sparring with Marcus immediately crouched down, clutching his head.
Marcus withdrew his stance and spun the wooden sword in his hand with a neat flourish.
"Your footwork's more flexible than last time. Your timing on the blocks has improved too. Thirty exchanges—five more than before. Among the sword users on this ship, you've got talent. Keep practicing. Don't slack off."
The pirate looked up, rubbing his head.
"Yes, Brother Marcus! I'll keep working hard!"
Across the deck, the atmosphere was lively with training.
Everything looked peaceful—even a little idyllic.
Until—
BOOM—!!!
A dull explosion suddenly erupted from the middle section of the ship, making the hull tremble slightly.
"…Hmm?"
Sami frowned, pushing his sunglasses up to the top of his head as he propped himself up and squinted toward the source of the blast.
That direction…
…was the ship's infirmary.
Thick black smoke mixed with the smell of gunpowder and some strange herbal odor poured out from the infirmary window and door cracks.
"…"
Sami stared silently for two seconds.
Then he sighed helplessly, lay back down again, and pulled his sunglasses back over his eyes.
"Sigh… here we go again."
"That guy Hiriluk… I really don't know if giving him those things helped him—or just brought trouble to ourselves…"
This whole situation began a few days earlier, right after they left Rongrong Island.
At that time, Sami had handed several things to the ship's doctor Hiriluk:
Some special mushrooms with medicinal properties purchased from Mushroom Village The Rongrong Mushroom Compendium, a book illustrating hundreds of mushroom species from the island along with brief descriptions Several rough handwritten notebooks passed down by villagers, recording generations of medicinal mushroom experience
Sami had simply said:
"Hiriluk, you're the ship's doctor. These are materials about the mushrooms from that island. Some of them might be useful. At the very least, they'll expand our ship's medical library."
At first, everything went very well.
To Hiriluk, those medical notes were practically treasures.
Because life as a ship's doctor at sea was extremely boring.
He didn't need to fight, and he didn't participate in the crew's navigation duties either. Most of the time he could only stay in the infirmary discussing cases with the other doctors from the West Blue—or reading medical books.
But the books there had originally been taken by Sami from Drum Kingdom.
Most of them were basic Grand Line medical texts that Hiriluk had already read several times over.
Ironically, when he had been in the Tower of Physicians, medical books had been everywhere—but he hadn't cared about them.
Now that he was gone, he discovered that most books he could buy elsewhere were even worse than the ones on the ship.
The materials from Rongrong Island weren't particularly advanced.
But to him, they felt like striking gold.
For the following days, aside from routine medical treatment, Hiriluk practically buried himself in those notes and mushroom samples.
The crew was happy about that.
After all, the more knowledgeable the ship's doctor was, the safer everyone's lives would be.
But things changed three days ago.
That afternoon, while everyone was doing their usual training on the deck.
Hiriluk—who hadn't left the infirmary for days—was dragged outside by fellow members of the logistics group for some fresh air.
They started doing light exercises together: jogging, stretching, push-ups.
(The ship categorized doctors, cooks, apprentices, and other noncombat crew as the Logistics Group.)
Their training intensity naturally couldn't compare with the battle group's muscle-bound warriors.
As usual, the battle group had just finished an intense workout.
During their break, they casually began showing off their results in front of the jogging logistics members.
"Hey! Look at these muscles! This is real training!"
A sailor with massive chest muscles flexed proudly.
His pectorals bounced rhythmically.
"Exactly! If you keep jogging like that, how long will it take before you look like us?"
Another man with arms as thick as thighs struck a classic biceps pose.
Under the sunlight, his bulging muscles almost reflected dazzling light.
"Ah… so… so bright!"
Hiriluk, who had been jogging with several equally skinny ship doctors and navigation apprentices, instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes.
He looked at his companions.
Then at his own thin arms and flat chest.
A complicated expression crossed his face—helplessness mixed with envy.
The other skinny members wore similar looks.
After all, the difference in strength and physique couldn't be fixed overnight.
"Damn it! Big muscles aren't that impressive! That's just brute force!"
"Yeah! We rely on brains and technique!"
Another ship doctor adjusted his glasses.
But faced with the overwhelming visual pressure of those muscles—and the blatant showing off—their protests sounded rather weak.
Gade from the battle group suddenly wrapped his arms around two logistics members beside him.
"Come on! Running like that is way too inefficient! Stop training on your own—I'll teach you!"
"Wah! Gade! L-let go!"
"You're drenched in sweat! My clothes! I just changed them!"
The two men cried out as they struggled.
But Gade's strength was far beyond theirs. The damp, sweaty contact pressed tightly against them, and the heavy smell of sweat immediately made them hold their breath.
"Don't be shy! We're all brothers!"
Gade seemed completely oblivious and enthusiastically demonstrated a few training motions while still holding them.
The moment they were released, the two logistics members jumped away.
They stared in disgust at the obvious wet marks on their shoulders and backs.
One of them even lifted his shirt and sniffed it, his face twisting into a bitter grimace.
"GADE! That's my freshly dried white coat! You jerk! I'm challenging you to a duel!"
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