Miko Island, Marine Branch 201.
BEEP— BEEP—
A shrill whistle pierced the calm of early morning, waking a still-sleeping Cross from his dreams.
Half-conscious in bed, Cross groaned, stretched out a long yawn, and slowly threw off his blanket before sitting up groggily.
At that moment, the wardrobe doors creaked open on their own. A perfectly folded white sailor uniform, dark blue trousers, and a blue neckerchief all sprang out like they had minds of their own. They bounced energetically across the room and vied to be the first to dress him.
"Urgh... Too tight… I can't breathe..."
Suddenly, Cross's expression twisted. He clutched at his throat, his face turning red, eyes bulging, and tongue lolling out as if he were being strangled.
It turned out the overzealous neckerchief had tied itself a bit too enthusiastically, nearly choking the life out of him.
"Hah—"
Cross quickly loosened the scarf, finally managing to breathe again. After slipping on his shoes, he grabbed his washbasin, towel, toothbrush, and cup from the supply shelf and headed out the door.
"Hey~ Cross!"
"Morning, Lieutenant Marco!"
"Good morning, Cross!"
"Good morning, Major Rice!"
"Still half-asleep, Cross?"
"Mind your own business, Ensign Beach!"
"…"
On his way to the communal washroom, Cross exchanged casual greetings with every officer he passed, clearly already well-acquainted with them.
It was his fifth day on Miko Island, after all, and he'd already made himself at home with most of the officers stationed on the fourth floor of Marine Branch 201.
Of course, it wasn't just Cross's youthful charm that had won them over. It was his strength.
In just a few short days, Cross had sparred with dozens of officers and soldiers, everyone except the branch commander, Captain Moore. He swept through the ranks like a storm, leaving no one who could match him. Before long, he'd earned a nickname: The Monster.
At first, many assumed Captain Moore had granted Cross an officer's dorm out of pity for a mere child.
But once Cross had proven himself against every combatant in the branch, it became clear: he wasn't being pampered, he'd earned that room.
After washing up and even giving his hair a quick rinse, Cross dried off, returned his things to his quarters, and headed down to the mess hall arm-in-arm with a few junior officers.
As the military arm of the World Government, the Marines, strongest force upon the seas, didn't skimp on meals.
Breakfast featured sandwiches, toast, eggs, chicken rolls, sweet and savory porridge… and drinks included fresh milk, miso soup, and fruit juice. Everyone was free to pick what they liked.
As one of the so-called "monsters," Cross had an appetite to match his power. Though he ate with aristocratic elegance, he still polished off enough food to feed ten men before feeling satisfied.
"I'm full. Please, enjoy your meal."
Setting down his utensils, Cross dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin and politely addressed the officers seated with him.
"Er… sure. You too, Cross!"
"I've seen this more than once, but it's still insane."
"Heh~ Cross-kun, you really are a monster."
"..."
They chuckled awkwardly and continued eating.
Cross paid them no mind. He stood and prepared to hit the training field for some physical exercise before diving into the books Captain Moore had given him.
As a new recruit, he was technically supposed to train alongside other rookies, to build teamwork and coordination for the battlefield.
But Cross was simply too strong.
Teaming him with ordinary soldiers would just waste their potential. On top of that, he excelled in both swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat, was proficient with firearms, and had even self-studied nautical science. There was no need for him to bother with the basics.
His only real weak points were in command, sail handling, and ship operations.
Fortunately, a few days ago, Captain Moore had informed him that his enlistment paperwork had been approved by Marine Headquarters, and he'd passed the vetting process. The next step would be formal education at the Marine Academy.
Until then, Moore had given him a stack of internal training manuals, encouraging him to build up his foundational knowledge.
After all, in the Marines, raw strength alone wouldn't get you promoted, unless your power was truly overwhelming. Barring that, you had to study like everyone else.
And so, after two hours of physical training and another hour of sword drills, Cross returned to his dorm and buried himself in his books. The morning flew by.
At noon, he headed back to the mess hall and enjoyed a hearty lunch.
Drumsticks, thick cuts of pork, steak, fried pork chops, grilled sea fish, pasta, curry rice… While not quite up to Amphitrite family standards, the food was still decent.
As Cross dined with practiced grace, savoring every bite, a shadow suddenly fell over his tray.
Captain Moore had taken a seat across from him.
"I'll be leading a surprise inspection at the port this afternoon," Moore said, cigar between his lips and coffee in hand. "Interested in tagging along?"
Cross looked up, visibly excited. "Is this… my first mission?"
"You could call it that." Moore grinned. "So, what do you say, recruit? Are you accepting the assignment?"
"Of course, Captain Moore!"
Cross beamed with joy, though his manners remained impeccable. He sliced a small piece of steak, raised it to his mouth with a fork, chewed it thoughtfully, and swallowed.
"Then finish up. Assemble at Training Ground No. 1 in twenty minutes." Moore lifted his coffee in a toast, then downed it in one gulp, leaving only a spotless porcelain cup on the table. He stood and walked away without another word.
"Twenty minutes, huh… Enough time for two more steaks and a bathroom break," Cross muttered. His knife blurred into motion, slicing his steak into neat portions in a flash.
...
Miko Town, Port District.
"Come see, come try! Fresh elephant tuna from the South Blue!"
"Just-picked green coconuts! Try one!"
"Fire & Steel Tavern special sale, 20% off everything!"
"Greenfield Casino, live exotic dancers!"
"..."
The port was bustling, packed with traders, workers, and shoppers. Crates were stacked high in massive warehouses, while storefronts lined the streets on every side.
Thud-thud-thud-thud… thud-thud-thud-thud…
Thud-thud-thud-thud… thud-thud-thud-thud…
Suddenly, the sound of synchronized marching echoed over the chaos, growing louder and more pronounced.
The din of the marketplace faded. One by one, people turned toward the approaching sound.
Hundreds of Marines marched in formation, jogging into the port district and fanning out across an open plaza.
At their head stood Captain Moore, a jitte strapped across his back. He wore a gentle expression as he addressed the crowd in a firm voice:
"Marine inspection, your cooperation is appreciated!"
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