Nao, Shiryu, and Rosinante.
Unlike the other recruits who were struggling under pressure—fighting while retreating—the three of them strolled casually through the streets, not even bothering to hide their presence.
Their swagger was so blatant, it was more conspicuous than a firefly in the dead of night.
Naturally, they attracted plenty of attention.
Sometimes it was a group of three or five, sometimes seven or eight, and occasionally nearly a hundred. Some were even led by officers with bounties of several million berries.
Unfortunately for them, against these three, their threat level was minimal.
Most encounters ended within a few exchanges—the pirates routed, helmets and weapons left behind, fleeing in total panic.
Nao's fighting style emphasized speed, precision, and lethality. With both his red and white blades drawn, he would charge into the enemy ranks like a whirlwind, leaving only afterimages in his wake.
His execution techniques were swift and merciless.
Many pirates never even realized what had happened before they dropped—painless and instant, their lives snuffed out without resistance.
As a result, the majority of the pirates killed so far had fallen to Nao's blades—more than even Shiryu and Rosinante combined.
"...I think I was happy too soon," Shiryu muttered grimly after watching a pirate officer he was targeting go down under Nao's strike.
"Maybe it would've been better if you'd just stayed back on Gull Island and missed this exam altogether."
He sighed, eyes narrowing.
"The thought of you—someone who showed up thirty-six hours late—surpassing my ranking and Rosinante's... it's humiliating. I can't even taste the tobacco in my mouth anymore."
Whenever Shiryu got like this, with his shadowy expression and those cold, triangular eyes, it gave people the chills—like he might draw his blade and cut someone down in the middle of the street.
Honestly, maybe guarding Impel Down suited him more than being on the frontlines with the Marines.
"That's why I told you to smoke less. See? Your tongue's going numb," Nao said as he casually finished off another pirate, turning to Shiryu with a mock-serious look.
"And why are your thoughts always so dark? We're comrades—do we really need to compete like this? Back on Gull Island, when I realized I couldn't join the exam, I was silently cheering you both on, hoping you'd achieve great results, you know?"
"If you actually meant that, I'd quit smoking right now," Shiryu said flatly.
"But unfortunately, I'll never quit—so by that logic, you're full of shit."
"Fair," Rosinante nodded without missing a beat.
These two are the worst.
Nao sighed inwardly.
Couldn't they at least pretend to go along with the spirit of camaraderie?
Didn't they know what it meant to grow stronger together, carrying each other's dreams and rising until their names echoed through the heavens?
As he lamented their lack of sentimentality, he silently opened his system's stat panel and sneakily checked the weapon upgrade progress.
[Wind Blade / Sword of Azakana: Upgradable — Current Progress]
Points: 0 / 50,000
Blood of the Wicked: 273 / 1,000
Two hundred and seventy-three.
That number was almost identical to the number of pirates he had killed so far.
Which meant: to meet the requirement of "Blood of the Wicked," simply staining the blade with blood wasn't enough. The enemies had to be actually killed.
Nao thought, maybe "blood" wasn't even the right word. "Soul" might be more fitting.
It was a harsh condition.
But given how quickly his progress was rising, this live-combat exam might not max the bar, but it would definitely push it past the halfway point.
The truth was, while there were a few pirates with some shred of conscience...
The vast majority had committed sins that could never be forgiven.
Pull a thousand pirates off the sea at random and kill them—how many of them could truly be considered "innocent victims"?
Maybe not even ten.
After dealing with another unlucky batch of pirates who'd walked right into their blades, the trio rested briefly before continuing down the main street.
Along the way, they came across a few fellow recruits.
Most were struggling, barely hanging on. But there were a few standouts—able to hold their own, dodging ambushes with ease, and even counterattacking, picking off isolated pirates who made mistakes.
Anyone capable of that had to be someone who'd consistently ranked in the top tier during the daily assessments before the exam.
From Nao's perspective, those people would definitely finish this live-combat exam with high rankings.
"Come to think of it... why haven't any of those pirate captains shown up yet?"
Nao frowned after dispatching another wave of weaklings.
"If I don't take out at least one of them, it'll be hard to catch up to the top scorers…"
It didn't make sense.
They'd stirred up enough noise by now.
Surely one of the higher-ranking officers should've shown up to investigate?
He had even gone out of his way to let a few of the low-level grunts escape—hoping they'd run back and sound the alarm.
Whoosh!
In that instant, a sharp, almost imperceptible slicing sound tore through the night air.
Nao barely caught it.
His instincts screamed. He cut off his thoughts and immediately turned his head—just in time to spot a glowing orange-yellow bullet flying through the sky, enlarging rapidly in his line of sight.
His pupils contracted like pinpoints. No time to think. Years of battle experience took over.
He activated the Intermediate Level Paper Art (Kami-e) and, sensing the subtle air current, leaned his head back at just the right angle—
Whoosh!
The bullet barely grazed his scalp, flying just over his head and smashing into the wall behind him.
BOOM!
The explosion was thunderous.
The wall behind Nao shattered instantly, stone and brick raining down in a shower of debris.
The power was terrifying.
Even Nao felt a chill. If he hadn't dodged in time, the shot might not have taken his head off—but at the very least, he would've been seriously injured.
"Sniper!"
Shiryu and Rosinante were just as alarmed.
Shiryu drew his blade in a flash, his gaze razor-sharp as he scanned the direction the shot had come from.
"Who the hell are you? Sneaking around and taking shots from behind—come out and face us like a man!" he shouted.
Rosinante also drew his weapon, moving to shield Nao protectively.
"Nao, are you alright?" he asked urgently.
"I'm fine."
Nao had already regained his calm.
Gripping both his red and white blades tightly, he narrowed his eyes and began scanning the crumbled ruins alongside Shiryu.
At his current level, ordinary flintlocks wouldn't pose much of a threat.
But that last shot was far from ordinary.
The rifle and ammo had clearly been custom-made—with a near-silent firing mechanism, insane velocity, and enough destructive force to rival a grenade launcher.
One misstep, and he really could've been taken out.