章節 150: Akira, Fujitora, Ryokugyu

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Shiiing!

The sharp edge of a blade pierced clean through a man's chest just as he finished boasting.

"Ughhhh!"

The once-arrogant Trom fell to the ground, screaming in agony.

"Trash. Don't block my path!"

As the crowd surged forward, medics casually approached the fallen. The Navy Headquarters had clearly anticipated such incidents.

The test itself seemed straightforward—running a mere 100,000 meters shouldn't be a challenge for this group of elite recruits, handpicked from across the globe. For these candidates, such a distance was no big deal.

However, the real peril of this trial lay hidden. Fleet Admiral Sengoku had announced that the first 100 to cross the finish line would qualify, earning at least the rank of Marine Major. But he hadn't mentioned any rules about how to get there—or prohibited violence.

The omission was deliberate.

In a race where combat was permitted, brutality quickly became the norm.

From the back of the pack, Uchiha Kitaro moved at a steady pace, observing the chaos. Around him, injured participants lay groaning as medical personnel whisked them away. The thousands who started the race were quickly reduced by half in the first bloody round. By the second wave of violence, the number of contestants dwindled to just over a thousand.

Before long, Kitaro caught up to the main group.

By now, the survivors had grown wiser. They maintained a cautious distance from one another to avoid ambushes.

But as Kitaro's presence became apparent, a ripple of tension spread through the group. He wasn't just anyone—he was an Uchiha. Whether he was the real Kitaro or his supposed younger brother, Akira, one fact remained: an Uchiha was a big deal.

Taking down someone like him would guarantee fame, perhaps fortune. After all, why else had they joined this global recruitment campaign if not for recognition and reward?

"Take him out!"

Bang!

A shot rang out, aimed at Kitaro.

Effortlessly, he sidestepped the bullet and accelerated, appearing beside the would-be attacker in an instant.

Slash!

The man screamed as his arm was severed, blood pouring from the wound.

"Arghhh!"

"Die!"

Another assailant lunged with a blade, but Kitaro's counter was merciless.

Slice!

Another severed arm hit the ground, accompanied by a howl of pain.

More attackers joined in, but Kitaro dispatched them all with terrifying precision, leaving a trail of maimed participants clutching their wounds.

Before long, no one dared to make a move against him. His sheer power and dominance were too overwhelming.

Satisfied that he'd made his point, Kitaro leisurely jogged past the cowed crowd, his pace unhurried yet purposeful.

When he arrived at the finish line, two others had already made it. One was the blind swordsman who had questioned him at the port earlier— the future Admiral Fujitora.

The other was a man with green, curly hair, sunglasses, and the words double suicide at death river tattooed across his chest.

Kitaro recognized him immediately. Aramaki—the future Admiral known as Ryokugyu.

Ryokugyu glanced at Kitaro but said nothing. Whether this was truly Uchiha Akira, Kitaro or someone else, confronting this Uchiha now would only invite unnecessary trouble. If they were destined to clash, it could wait.

Kitaro returned the indifference. To him, Ryokugyu was little more than Akainu's lackey—a true slave dog of the Celestial Dragons and an extremist with vile beliefs.

Behind him, the race only grew more vicious. Few participants reached the finish line unscathed, and every encounter left more injuries. By the end, the top 100 spots had been decided.

Sengoku stepped forward and addressed the crowd.

"Congratulations to those of you who've passed the first round of selection. From this moment forward, you are at least Marine Commanders."

Cheers erupted, though many participants were visibly fatigued. Sengoku continued, his voice commanding attention.

"If you pass the second round, the lowest rank you will earn is Rear Admiral."

The announcement rejuvenated the crowd. Rear Admiral!

In regional branches, a Rear Admiral was often the highest-ranking officer. Even at Marine Headquarters, it was a prestigious position among the upper echelons. Achieving such a rank normally required years of service, countless missions, and a stellar record. Only in this unprecedented global recruitment could one ascend to such heights in mere days.

"Tell us! What's the second trial?"

"Yeah! Let's get started already!"

"Come on, we're ready!"

Sengoku smiled faintly and gestured to the side.

"Step forward!"

From a massive gate emerged five towering figures.

Gasps rippled through the group as their identities became clear.

"K-Kuma?!"

"There's more than one Kuma?!"

"No! Those are the Pacifistas—World Government's humanoid weapons!"

The Pacifistas, based on the Warlord Bartholomew Kuma, had already been revealed during the Paramount War. Since then, their terrifying effectiveness in suppressing pirate activity had solidified their reputation. These mechanical soldiers were proof of the World Government's immense strength, a grim reminder that they were far from weak.

"For the second trial," Sengoku declared, "your task is simple: defeat one Pacifista, and you'll be promoted to Rear Admiral."

"I'll go first!"

A burly man leaped forward, wielding a massive blade. He aimed a powerful strike at the Pacifista's neck.

Clang!

The blade barely left a mark.

"What?!"

The Pacifista retaliated with a single punch.

Boom!

The man flew backward, screaming in pain, before slamming into a wall. Blood poured from his mouth, and his body crumpled to the ground like a broken doll.

"Take him away," Sengoku ordered coldly.

Medics rushed to the fallen contestant, placing him on a stretcher and carrying him off. Behind them, more medics stood ready for the next casualty.

Sengoku scanned the group.

"Who's next?"