Chapter 32: Ian
"Heh... since when did you learn how to joke?" Sicily asked, clearly unconvinced.
Alvis looked him straight in the eye.
"I'm not joking."
The private room fell silent.
Sicily slowly put down his glass, the teasing look fading from his face. "There's really a genius like that?"
A Marine Headquarters Lieutenant was already strong enough to match a pirate worth tens of millions. For a child not even of age to be evaluated at that level was not merely impressive. It was monstrous.
Alvis did not rush his answer.
"Yes. And there's more than one. There's another one I've also taken notice of. A Devil Fruit user."
For a second, Sicily just stared at him.
Then he suddenly lunged forward and hooked an arm around Alvis's neck.
"You bastard... I'm so jealous!"
Even though he was now a Rear Admiral, Sicily only had around a dozen captains under his direct command. Truly capable people were becoming rarer and rarer in the Marines. To hear that Alvis, of all people, had somehow stumbled into not one but two rare seedlings with that kind of promise was enough to make any officer envious.
After all, anyone with a functioning brain could tell what it meant.
A child with that level of strength would be terrifying once they matured.
Setting everything else aside, just being the one to teach such a student would be enough to make an ordinary Marine proud for the rest of his life.
"Cough... cough... ease up," Alvis said, patting Sicily's arm.
Sicily finally let him go and leaned back in his chair, grinning.
"You've gotten weaker."
Alvis clicked his tongue. "It's not that I've gotten weaker. It's that you've gotten stronger. When we first joined the Marines, we were both nobodies. You just had to climb faster because of your background. Now you're a Rear Admiral, two ranks above me."
Sicily snorted.
"You were the one who chose to leave active duty and bury yourself in teaching. If you'd stayed in the field instead of running off to become an instructor, you'd at least be a lieutenant commander or a commander by now."
Alvis picked up his glass, took a small sip, and let out a low breath.
"Don't comfort me. I know my own limits. With my current strength, even making commander would still be difficult."
There was no self pity in his tone.
Just plain acceptance.
He had chosen education because he had felt himself slam into a wall he could not break through. Since he could not advance far enough to embody the justice he believed in with his own hands, he had placed his hopes on the next generation instead.
If not for that weakness, he would rather have remained on the sea and cut down pirates himself.
Sicily looked at him for a moment, then reached for his own drink.
He tilted the glass back and took a huge swallow.
"Ahhh...!"
The liquor served at Justice Bar was notorious even among Marines. Sicily's face immediately twisted, and he had to cough twice before recovering.
"Drink slower," Alvis said dryly.
Sicily waved him off. "It's fine. Just been a while. Back then, I drank like this all the time."
To prove it, he lifted the glass again and took another reckless gulp.
Then he nearly choked.
Alvis sighed. "I told you."
Sicily's scarred face flushed, whether from the alcohol or the embarrassment, even he probably could not tell.
"It's just because it's been a long time. Ever since I became a Rear Admiral, things have gotten busier and busier. I barely get the chance to relax anymore, let alone go out and hunt pirates like before."
Alvis's gaze softened a fraction.
"You've had it rough too."
Sicily shook his head.
"It's nothing. Anyway, I'll help you deliver that request. Whether Fleet Admiral Sengoku approves it or not, I can't promise."
Before he even finished speaking, Alvis calmly pulled a prepared letter from inside his coat and placed it on the table.
Sicily stared at it.
Then he sprayed half the liquor in his mouth straight back into his glass.
"Pfft cough cough... you bastard! You already expected me to agree?"
Alvis just chuckled.
Sicily picked up the letter and looked at it with deep suspicion. "That's too much. You really lined everything up in advance."
Alvis did not bother denying it.
"There's one more thing I need your help with," he said. "I need training."
Sicily blinked. "Training?"
Alvis nodded.
"I made a promise to spar with one of my students. But with my current condition, I'm not confident I'll win."
For a moment, Sicily genuinely did not know what to say.
He had already been shocked enough by the earlier conversation, but this...
He leaned back and stared at Alvis as if trying to decide whether his old comrade had finally gone mad.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"You really think a child in your class is strong enough to push you that far?"
"I'm not exaggerating even a little."
Sicily's expression shifted.
At first, he had suspected Alvis was embellishing things because he wanted his help. But hearing him say this, with that tone, he no longer doubted that Alvis believed every word.
Slowly, Sicily put down the letter and folded his arms.
"My training is hell," he said. "You remember that, don't you?"
Alvis's face twitched ever so slightly.
The memory was old, blurred by time, but not erased. Even now, fragments of it were enough to make his scalp prickle.
Sicily grinned.
"And don't expect me to go easy on you just because we're friends."
Alvis swallowed, but the determination in his eyes did not change.
"Fine."
Sicily tapped the table with one finger. "What about your classes? You still have work."
Alvis answered without pause.
"I already arranged for someone to cover them."
Sicily stared at him.
Then a dark line seemed to appear across his forehead.
"You really did plan everything out."
The prepared letter.
The substitute teacher.
The request.
The training.
This was not a man making a desperate last minute appeal. This was a man who had already calculated every step and only needed Sicily to walk into the final space he had left open.
Alvis looked at him with utter calm.
"It's not that I'm too cunning. You're just too naive."
Sicily barked out a laugh.
"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to welcome you properly." He raised his glass, and a chilling smile spread across his face. "Welcome back to hell."
...
The next day, the classroom door opened, and instead of Alvis, an unfamiliar man walked in.
He wore a brown coat over matching trousers, his hair neatly combed to one side, his tie perfectly straight, his clothes without a single wrinkle. His face was ordinary in the most teacherly way possible, and everything about him gave off the impression of neatness, order, and method.
He looked nothing like Alvis.
The students immediately noticed the difference.
They did not speak out of turn, but many of them could not help feeling awkward. After spending so long under Alvis's sharp gaze and harsh rules, being greeted by someone who looked this tidy and harmless felt almost unreal.
The man stood at the front and gave a small, polite nod.
"Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I'll be substituting for Alvis for the next week." He placed one hand on the desk. "My name is Ian."
No one responded beyond the usual greeting.
Ian did not seem to mind. He opened his book and began teaching in a standard, formal manner, moving through the lesson exactly as one would expect from a conventional instructor.
The other students listened attentively out of habit and respect. Even without Alvis's crushing presence, none of them dared act too unruly in class.
Axel, however, quickly lost interest.
Ian's class was orderly.
Careful.
Clear.
And incredibly dull.
With nothing better to do, Axel turned his gaze toward the window. While keeping a proper outward posture, he quietly used his ability to interfere with things outside.
A gust of wind kicked dust across the edge of the training field.
A cluster of scattered forces converged at a single point and struck a loose stone hard enough to make it jump.
Then he dispersed the movement again before anyone inside could notice.
To anyone watching, Axel merely looked like he was staring out the window in a daze.
In reality, he was training.
Every adjustment required calculation. Every slight change in direction sharpened his control a little further.
And because his mind had already grown far beyond that of an ordinary child, he could still hear every word Ian was saying while doing it.
He had also memorized the entire lecture without missing a line.
.....
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