c7 – Firmness
In the room.
After staying up all night, Rhodes not only didn't feel sluggish or fatigued, but he was refreshed and full of vitality like someone who had just stepped out of a high-grade sauna in a Wano hot spring.
He discovered something incredible this meditative state, where he circulated lightning through his body while maintaining deep mental focus, seemed to be a complete substitute for sleep!
And more than that.
For an entire night, he had meticulously regulated electrical current through his body while maintaining perfect concentration. By morning, he had nearly mastered the concentrated state a mental realm akin to Zoro's combat awareness when he entered his "calm kill zone." With a mere thought, Rhodes could enter that state of mind and unleash a powerful, clean-cut slash without delay.
This is what it means to be a real swordsman.
"It feels amazing to be strong."
Rhodes clenched his fists, activating the musculature in his arms, feeling the new strength ripple through them, and couldn't help but break into a wide grin.
If he were to retake the Doriki test now the same metric CP9 used to measure physical strength he was certain he'd easily pass the physical benchmark that even elite marine trainees struggled with!
Be it strength, speed, or precision
"It was just one night."
Rhodes inhaled deeply, eyes shining like polished steel.
With the talent of [Thunder Control] at his fingertips, he finally possessed a foundational strength and growth potential that could rival anyone in the world of pirates.
Sooner or later, he would stand atop the Grand Line the peak of the sea and challenge the legends: from Mihawk to Kaido to the Yonko themselves. His name would ring across the seas like a thunderclap.
This journey? Already worth it.
---
Early morning.
A sliver of golden light rose from the distant horizon, piercing the darkness of dawn.
Having completed his lightning-body forging technique, Rhodes chewed on some high-calorie beast jerky to replenish energy. After resting briefly, he stepped into the courtyard to test and adapt to his improved physique.
Unlike gradual training gains, this kind of leap in strength required deliberate adjustment to avoid imbalance in technique or overextension.
Fortunately, thanks to Rhodes' swordsman-tier control and his mastery of fine motor precision skills similar to how Zoro manipulates weight in his sword strikes this wasn't difficult.
Within just half an hour, he had adjusted perfectly to the upgraded condition of his muscles and nerves, stabilizing himself into a near-optimal combat state.
"Cuckoo…"
No sooner had he completed his concentration regimen than his stomach let out a roaring protest. It felt like a beast had awakened inside him, demanding sustenance with the ferocity of a Sea King.
The physical overhaul he'd undergone was significant.practically a forced evolution of the body. Naturally, such dramatic growth came with enormous caloric demands.
"I'm starving."
Rhodes bolted into the house like a gale, tore through the remaining high-energy jerky in moments, but it was far from enough to satisfy the ravenous furnace inside him.
"I want roast whole beef... roast whole lamb... even roast Sea Kings!"
One after another, vivid fantasies of food floated through his mind. His mouth watered shamelessly how pathetic. Just imagining food made his stomach rumble louder.
"So damn hungry!"
At one point, he thought he could even devour an elephant from Little Garden.
Whoosh!
Rhodes shot out of the house at blinding speed, raced toward a nearby tavern-restaurant, and ordered a table-breaking number of high-energy dishes. He ate like a starving animal from the Florian Triangle, consuming each plate like it was the last meal of a death row pirate.
Thankfully, this world especially the Grand Line is teeming with Sea Kings, massive beasts, and wild game. As a result, high-calorie food wasn't expensive, and with Rhodes' current income, he could afford to eat like a Yonko's personal chef was feeding him.
Belch…
Finally, after what felt like a full hour, with a mountain of plates stacked high on the table, Rhodes felt the chaotic hunger of his hypercharged cells begin to settle.
"…I really ate that much?"
It was in this moment that he finally understood why Luffy, Zoro, Whitebeard, and even Big Mom ate like gluttons in the manga.
The stronger the body, the more energy it burns. Food was no longer just for enjoyment—it was fuel. The more powerful one became, the more essential massive food intake was for basic functioning and stamina recovery.
Rhodes shook his head. But honestly, he didn't care too much this world was a hunter's paradise. It wasn't like strong people ever starved to death in One Piece.
After settling the bill, fully satisfied, and stomach comfortably stuffed, Rhodes wandered through the streets of the town, letting his food digest.
When he passed the local training grounds, he paused and watched the young boys and girls practicing their sword drills. Their foreheads were soaked with sweat, and their movements clumsy but their eyes gleamed with enthusiasm.
Some even glanced over at him with admiration.
It was only then that Rhodes realized
Without even noticing, he had become someone others looked up to. A teacher. A model. A master.
And not just in name. In yesterday's sparring test, his performance had been stunning. His swordsmanship was so precise, so overwhelming, that many students had been deeply inspired, deciding to begin their own sword journeys that very day.
With a quiet, satisfied smile at the joy of being a mentor, Rhodes turned and casually made his way to the newly opened clinic.
Inside, a white-haired old man was leisurely smoking a cigarette. When he saw Rhodes walk in, he narrowed his eyes and scoffed, "Stinky brat, so you finally remember your way back here."
Unbothered by the old man's sarcasm, Rhodes stepped forward, pulling out a weathered notebook and placing it on the table.
"Old man, this is the medical knowledge I've compiled," he said plainly. "I don't think I'll be coming back anymore."
The old man accepted the notebook with a casual flick, but as his eyes scanned the pages, his expression subtly shifted shock registered in the twitch of his brow, his hand trembling ever so slightly.
For a long moment
He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke steady his nerves, and then spoke slowly: "You really don't want to keep pursuing medicine? Your talent is obvious… and rare."
"I want to be strong. Stronger than anyone."
Rhodes' tone was subdued but firm, like the calm before a storm. "Strength is the root of everything."
Of course, that didn't mean he intended to abandon medicine entirely.
In One Piece, medical knowledge had always been more than support—it was survival. Rhodes knew this well. He remembered how even Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King, succumbed to illness despite his unmatched strength. And Whitebeard if he'd maintained his prime form during the Paramount War, the battlefield at Marineford would have been a slaughterhouse.
Had Whitebeard been at full power, would Sengoku have even dared to initiate the war?
The reality was clear while the navy might have had the strategic edge, a peak-form Whitebeard, unleashing quake-quake fruit power without restraint, would've dwarfed the damage caused by even the Golden Lion in his heyday.
Moreover, this world was teeming with mysterious concoctions black market medicine, regeneration drugs, and enhancers like Chopper's Rumble Ball. In a fight for survival, knowledge of these substances could mean the difference between life and death.
"Hey…"
The old man exhaled, gray smoke curling into the air like lost thoughts. Hearing Rhode's unwavering tone, he sighed, his resistance folding like a crumpled paper.
In an era like this where the seas raged with chaos nothing could keep a man from chasing his destiny on the ocean.
"Fine, I won't stop you. Just be careful."
He paused for a beat, then smirked with quiet humor. "Though, I doubt I need to say that. You're far too calm and calculating. You don't act like a 16-year-old at all more like some weathered old marine from the Grand Line."
Indeed, Rhodes' conduct his mature judgment, his clinical grasp of human anatomy, and his unshakable demeanor had long baffled the doctors and patients of Baltigo. To them, he was a mystery wrapped in calm efficiency.
Even so, the old man couldn't help but keep rambling. He clung to Rhodes' arm, tossing out sea travel tips and cautioning him on hazards: currents near Reverse Mountain, erratic Log Poses, unpredictable weather phenomena, and even rumors of Sea Kings nesting near Calm Belt trenches.
Rhodes listened silently. He understood the old man truly cared, like a guardian watching his child step into a world of monsters.
"Go on then. And if you remember anything this old man said… come back and visit sometime." With that, the old man turned, his voice tapering off. He didn't say more.
Rhodes stood in silence, then gave a quiet bow. Words were never his strength.
---
Outside, the wind howled over the sand-blown streets. Rhodes stared into the horizon—where the skies were a stormy gray, shrouded by dust, the vast expanse seeming both beautiful and oppressive. Baltigo, despite its security, felt like a cage.
A dull, suffocating cage.
"If I came to this world… how could I not see the sea for myself?"
Like chains snapping from his spirit, Rhodes felt something inside him stir. For the first time since arriving in this world, his heart stood naked in the wind.
He was not someone who could settle for safety. Not someone content with obscurity.
He craved the clash of titans, the thrill of impossible battles. He longed to test himself against living legends to stand before Shanks, Kaido, or Mihawk, to live through history instead of reading about it.
To do all that strength was non-negotiable.
With that conviction burning in his chest, Rhodes picked up his pace and soon arrived at a wide, barren field on the east side of Baltigo.
Before him loomed a castle-like structure, towering and fortified. It was no ordinary building it spanned far beyond the size of any noble estate or marine outpost he'd seen. There was no end in sight.
This was the training grounds for the Revolutionary Army's elite reserves.
It was here that the backbone of the rebellion was forged—under the watchful eyes of Dragon's commanders.
Baltigo itself? Merely an affiliated outpost.
---