One Piece: Marine's Justice

Chapter 68: Marine Academy (4)



A sudden, ruthless slash cut through the air, startling the two remaining boys so much that their faces twisted in fear as they stumbled bac

A sudden, ruthless slash cut through the air, startling the two remaining boys so much that their faces twisted in fear as they stumbled back a step.

They were just regular cadets, after all, never exposed to real combat. Even the Academy's sparring classes and practical exams rarely ended in blood.

Yet, this… this was way too brutal!

"Tsss—"

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Students all around froze in shock.

Some were horrified by how vicious Cross's strike had been.

Others were stunned simply because they hadn't even seen him move.

At that moment, Cross calmly lifted his head, expression blank. He reached for a clean white napkin from the tray beside him and elegantly wiped the food from the corner of his mouth. Then he looked coldly at the three in front of him and said, voice chillingly composed:

"I already told you. If you've got something to say, wait until I finish eating. Because I really hate being interrupted when I'm eating."

Suddenly, a young man stepped out from the crowd, jaw clenched, and barked in anger: "Don't you think you went too far?!"

Cross glanced at him, unbothered. "Chief Instructor Zephyr told us: as long as you don't kill or cripple your opponent, anything goes when facing a challenge. So I stabbed between the bones of his middle and ring fingers. Pull the knife out, apply some medicine, wrap it up, it's just a flesh wound."

"Cut the crap!" the young man snapped, face flushed with righteous indignation. "We're all students here! You pull that kind of stunt on your own classmates? You're not fit to be a Marine!"

"That's right! He went way too far!"

"First day at the Academy and already acting like he owns the place, what a bastard!"

"He looked down on all of us just now! Someone's gotta teach him a lesson!"

"Yeah, let's do it!"

Voices erupted in a chorus of outrage. The atmosphere shifted sharply, accusations and insults flying at Cross from all sides.

Meanwhile, by the cafeteria windows, several cadets from the Elite Class sat watching the whole affair unfold, casually trading observations about the drama.

"Tsk tsk… That kid's got skills."

"Hey, Yukimura, you're a swordsman. Could you pull off something like that?"

"Kibin, you serious? If that kid wasn't bluffing just now, and actually slipped the blade between the bones of the middle and ring fingers without hitting either one? Just nicking the flesh? Then I'm nowhere near that level."

"Hey, Gasparde, you're the top dog. What do you think of the new guy?"

"Just another punk. Whether or not he makes it into the Elite Class has nothing to do with us."

They were Elite Class cadets. Naturally, they'd been curious about the infamous "Cross" everyone was whispering about. They'd been ready to sit back and watch the show.

But what they got… was not what they expected.

That single, calculated stab had proven one thing: the new kid wasn't just strong. He was deadly precise.

In a split second, he'd plunged a dinner knife into someone's hand, accurately enough to pierce between two bones without damaging them.

That kind of technique and control? Forget the regular cadets. Even most Elite Class students—hell, even some instructors, might not pull that off!

"Such a pain," Cross muttered, narrowing his eyes in irritation.

Then, without warning, he grabbed his tray, and with a sharp swing, smashed it, food and all, into the face of the guy who had just spoken up.

Thud!

The moment of smug satisfaction on the guy's face vanished under a pile of macaroni. His mind blanked, and he staggered backward before collapsing to the floor with a heavy crash.

For a moment, the entire cafeteria went silent.

No one could believe it.

Right in the middle of a public outcry, under the pressure of dozens of glares, this guy still had the audacity to hit someone again?!

Was he out of his mind?!

"I know there's been a whole bunch of rumors about me today," Cross said coldly, slowly rising from his seat. "Frankly, I don't care. But when you interrupt my meal… that pisses me off."

He took a step forward, voice turning colder. "So, here's your chance. All of you. Come at me."

"…Huh?"

There was a beat of stunned silence.

But the cadets of the Marine Academy were no fools, they were the Navy's next generation, the cream of the crop. It took them only a moment to realize what Cross was saying.

"Are you kidding me?!"

"He wants all of us to fight him?!"

"He's insane! Arrogant bastard!"

"Let's take him down!"

The crowd exploded. Dozens of furious cadets surged forward, sleeves rolled up, ready to pile onto Cross in righteous fury.

"Tch. Once I beat the hell out of all of you, I won't have to deal with this crap again," Cross muttered, his eyes flashing with cold light.

Then he stepped forward, and slammed a fist into the chest of the first cadet to charge him.

BOOM!

The poor guy's vision spun. Pain blossomed in his chest, and before he could react, his feet left the ground. He crashed backward like a bowling ball, knocking over a whole row of students behind him.

Cross moved like a thunderclap, like a tiger tearing into a flock of sheep.

He dove into the crowd.

Fists swung like hammers. Legs swept like whips.

It didn't matter whether someone attacked him or not, if you were in his way, you got decked.

In seconds, chaos engulfed the entire second floor of the cafeteria.

Most of the students felt humiliated and furious, thinking they could overwhelm him with numbers.

But a herd of sheep could never take down a tiger.

The cafeteria was packed, yet all anyone could hear was the sound of bodies being thrown, bones hitting tables, and students groaning in pain.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The sound of fists connecting with flesh echoed nonstop.

Cross was a whirlwind of violence. Every punch landed clean, every kick sent someone flying. Barely anyone could take even one hit from him.

One man against hundreds.

And he was winning.

The few conscious onlookers, including several Elite Class cadets, sat wide-eyed at the outer edges of the chaos, stunned by what they were seeing.

What they'd expected to be a joke turned into something else entirely.

"Aaaaaah—!"

"Don't panic! Hold your ground!"

"Monster! He's a freaking monster!"

"Damn it, what is he?!"

"Run! Run for it!"

Screams filled the air as students fled in terror.

Some tried to regroup, forming makeshift formations they'd learned in tactics class.

Cross tore through them like paper.

A one-man army.

He shattered every defense, dropped every cadet who dared to stand before him.

Eventually, the fighting stopped.

Dozens of bodies lay groaning on the floor. Only a few remained upright, pressed against the walls, stunned into silence.

Cross stood in the center of the devastation.

His gaze swept across the room, icy and emotionless. Something in that look chilled the air around him.

None of the students dared meet his eyes. Most flinched or looked away the moment their gazes met.

"I don't mind being challenged," Cross said at last, his voice calm and sharp as a blade. "But do it after I eat."

He paused.

"Otherwise… next time I'll make sure the one who interrupts me stays in the hospital for a while."

He glanced once more at the downed crowd, then turned and walked away.

Just a flesh wound… if they were lucky.

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