Only about an hour or so had passed since Linedwell had made his way from the barracks, and now he was training once again under the tutelage of Mr. Miyagi within the dojo...well, not "exactly" under Mr. Miyagi's tutelage. Even though this was the second day he'd been training, Mr. Miyagi had yet to personally train him after their spar the previous day. Instead, Mr. Miyagi seemed to only want Linedwell to build himself up through use of the equipment within the hall. Though a bit disappointed with this, he knew he couldn't exactly doubt the man so soon. He'd shown Linedwell just how strong he was, and if Linedwell wanted to attain even something close to that he'd partake in any training that the old man suggested.

The longer he trained on the equipment, the more he had to admit that he could feel a change in himself. His stamina seemed to have skyrocketed, just as Mr. Miyagi had mentioned the previous day. It seemed as though it was a combination of both the spar and the equipment that opened up the capability for Linedwell to heal at such a rate as well as pushing past his previous limitations. Maybe the fact he'd been given a glimpse of what he could potentially become had lent itself to his further development. So far there wasn't anyone else in the dojo, outside of Mr. Miyagi, but he appeared to be focused on his own training instead of anyone else's . Linedwell wondered if any of the other Ensigns had been invited to continue training, but he decided to follow Mr. Miyagi's example and worry about himself instead. With this in mind, Linedwell fully threw himself back into his training.

As time passed and Linedwell's training within the dojo continued, he began to wonder exactly how long he'd be training without any direct interaction with Mr. Miyagi. Though there wasn't necessarily anything wrong with running on the treadmills, punching the speed bags, or doing multiple pushups - but he wondered for for exactly how long he'd need to partake in training himself up before he'd actually be considered ready for whatever Mr. Miyagi had to teach him. He knew it was never wise to question the Sensei, but the impatience that Linedwell always had a hard time fighting against was beginning to get the better of him.

Linedwell could have simply decided to put all of this impatience into motivating himself to build himself up at an even faster pace, which would have then forced Mr. Miyagi's hand and MADE the man train him...but instead, Linedwell decided he needed to know these ancient secrets and techniques now and that he couldn't afford to train in this manner for much longer - even though he prided himself on his patience, in this situation, he felt entirely too much anticipation. Growing in strength was something that always enticed him, and the thought that he could one day be on par with others of this caliber was far too much to be calm about. After getting up out of push-up position and standing up, Linedwell began to make his way towards the front of the dojo. The closer he came to the front of the dojo, the more he began to hear the voices of multiple people. Many of these voices sounded as if they were highly disgruntled. In the midst of all the confusion, Linedwell could clearly make out a few that were fellow marines Marines, as well as Mr. Miyagi's voice. His tone sounded calm; the same way it always sounded. It appeared as if he were trying to explain something to the others, and the longer he spoke, the quieter the sounds of the "disgruntled" voices became, as if he were pacifying them.

The situation appeared to be dying down as the disgruntled voices soon came to an end - but almost immediately after, the doors to the dojo slipped open. Mr. Miyagi then walked back inside, but this time he was followed by a crowd of men dressed in what appeared to be black and white stripped prison jumpsuits. Prisoners weren't exactly an uncommon site on Marineford, as many of them could be seen being ported from here to Impel Down, however, there was no reason why prisoners would be lined up outside of a training facility such as this one. Was this some sort of joke? Maybe there'd been some sort of announcement that Linedwell hadn't been made aware of. Soon enough, Mr. Miyagi called out for the young Ensign.

"Linedwell! These young men behind me have a bone to pick with you. I've had these men transported to the dojo for a specific reason. They've been carted here from Impel Down and they've been promised their freedom if they can kill a student of mine by the name of Linedwell Rainrex. It just so happens that name belongs to you, so I'll be tasking you with both defending your life, as well as defending the reputation of my dojo. If you manage to survive I'll reward you with the location of a very powerful devil fruit, as well a brand new assignment. Any questions? I thought so. I'll be going to take my nap now. Alert me when things are finished up out here."

Before anyone could stop the old man or dispute anything with him, Mr. Miyagi was gone, walking into his bedroom and closing the door behind him. There was a few moments of awkward silence as both sides attempted to make sense of what just happened. Linedwell, however, took a very short time putting any of this together. A grin crept across his lips as he put together in his mind a scenario that made complete sense to him. These men in front of him weren't fellow students; they were enemies. As such, it was his duty as a student of this dojo to defend it no matter who the opponent. Right now, this was an opportunity for him to impress the old man, and maybe Mr. Miyagi would give Linedwell the tutelage he needed as well as the rewards he promised.

With this thought in mind, Linedwell reached back with his right hand and grabbed hold of the handle of Kusanagi. If his goal now was to take out these opponents, then he'd start off by using his strongest technique. Closing his eyes for a few moments, Linedwell began to meditate. Though this may have seemed to be a show of arrogance on Linedwell's part, it was actually the opposite. As a novice in the use of these techniques he wanted to make sure he was doing this correctly, he needed to reach a state of kenshō. This process was never exactly easy to accomplish, but Linedwell was beginning to become more practiced is the task, and the time in which it took to tap into the "fire" within himself.

While Linedwell was in the process of this meditation, five of the prisoners in the group began to inch closer and closer to Linedwell's position until they were now at a distance that consisted of distance of about a meter and a half away. Yet, before they could act, Linedwell's predatory nature soon kicked in, causing him to dash forward in the direction of the opponent nearest to him. Once he reached a distance of 4/5th's away from the male, he unsheathed his blade before slashing horizontally, loosing a blade composed of dense flame. Since these five enemies were all situated in front of Linedwell, and since this slash was one that had been horizontal, they were all within range of the deadly attack. Given how fast Linedwell was able to move, he had been able to catch these five enemies unaware. The blade of compressed flame held enough power once it landed across the abdomens of these men to bisect them. However, where one would have expected sprays of blood to color the dojo, there was none. Due to the intense heat of the flame, their wounds had been instantly cauterized.

Mr. Miyagi's only order had been to defend the dojo, but he hadn't spoken out against killing these men. In Linedwell's mind, the leaving out of that specification meant he was free to deal with these men as he pleased, in fact, these men held no qualms about killing him if they had the opportunity to do so. After all, Linedwell wielded a sword, and as we all know, they were meant to cut...he'd be doing his blade an injustice if he didn't quench it in blood every now and then.

Abilities:

Given the manner in which Linedwell had been trained centered around assassination, it was obvious the best course of action would be to bring his opponents down swiftly; not allowing them to draw this battle out longer than it needed to be. With the remaining enemies now deciding to surround him, Linedwell dashed off at full speed in the direction of one of the prisoners. With the speed in which Linedwell was moving at this point in time, his enemy wouldn't be able to perceive what was going on. Closing the distance of five meters between himself and the prisoner within almost an instant, Linedwell's blade had already been found itself sheathed inside of his opponent - the blade entering the male's chest, puncturing his heart, and exiting out of his back. The man was dead within almost the same instance in which the attack landed, and Linedwell quickly unsheathed the blade from its makeshift scabbard. He performed the act of Chiburi - shaking the blood off of his blade - before he he inspected the remaining enemies around him.

The next prisoner stood at a distance of about a two meters away, and it seemed he'd come with a weapon. Out of his jumpsuit, the prisoner seemed to pull out what appeared to be a shank. It was a bit unexpected, as Linedwell merely assumed these prisoners were all unarmed, however, this turn of events this didn't phase him much; it simply meant that this man would provide much more entertainment than he previously thought.

After a short bow of respect in the direction of the weapon wielding prisoner, Linedwell quickly darted off in full speed towards him. Once within 4/5th's range of the male, Linedwell's blade was now coming up vertically with a slash. The prisoner's reaction time was fairly impressive, given he had the foresight to bring up his tanto horizontally in the projected path of the slash, yet, before the two blades would clash Linedwell would palm the blade, dropping it down from his right hand to his left. This process would alter the path of the vertical slash, completely ruining the prisoner's defense. Before the slash would make contact, Linedwell would activate yet another ability within this battle. As his blade was now engulfed in flames, it would easily begin to cut into the middle of the prisoner's abdomen. Usually in a situation such as this one, blood would have begun to spurt furiously as a result of a blade cutting into flesh in such as way. Because Linedwell abhorred the mess associated with such close quarters combat, he'd decided to make use of his flame ability in order to once again cauterize the wound he'd produced. This way, his blade, the dojo, and his clothing remained fairly clean.

With one more prisoner down, the only other threats took the form of four remaining prisoners. Linedwell was beginning to feel the strain of battle on him, even though these opponents weren't necessarily too much of a threat.What had sapped so much of his stamina before this battle had begun was the training he'd been doing prior. Even though his stamina had skyrocketed as a result of Mr. Miyagi's training, he was still human. If he allowed himself to take this next opponent for granted, he figured he might find himself in the same position as the opponents he'd been killing.

Abilites:

Out of the corner of his eye, Linedwell managed to notice that one of the challengers seemed to be slowly backing out of the dojo. He was about a distance of ten meters away from Linedwell, and with his widened eyes and shaky stance it was obvious that remaining here wasn't something he wanted to do...but he had to know that it was far too late to back down from a challenge such as this one. If this man even made it outside of this dojo, there was no doubt he'd either be killed on sight by the Marines that were stationed outside, or, he'd be apprehended once again and thrown back into Impel Down. How would Linedwell handle this situation? Sure, it would be fairly easy to let others handle this remaining prisoner and simply end a potential confrontation...but...

Deciding not to let this man exit, the black haired Marine youth began to close the distance between himself and the prisoner as quickly as his body would allow, culminating in a travel time that a few seconds in total. Because this was an opponent that didn't exactly want to fight back, there was still some form of pity that Linedwell held for this male. Instead of making use of the blade he'd been so accustomed to using, he decided to attack without it. Pivoting on his left foot, Linedwell kicked hard into the male's side with his right foot. Even though Linedwell wasn't exactly trained in multiple martial arts as Mr. Miyagi was, a kick such as this one moving at a speed in which Linedwell was currently moving held the ability to break many things - and the bones of Linedwell's victim were included in this list.

Upon taking out the prisoner with a simple kick, Linedwell managed to catch a glimpse of yet another enemy starting to inch closer and closer. This prisoner stood at a distance of about four meters from him. This man held an expression that seemed to be filled with rage - completely different from the male that Linedwell had just incapacitated. If this man were allowed to leave he'd surely attempt to seek revenge someday, if he managed to survive an encounter with the Marines outside...and people with this desire in their hearts were dangerous. Without any other warning, Linedwell quickly pushed off of the floor with his right foot, kicking himself into the direction of the prisoner at full speed. With his blade still drawn from its sheathe, Linedwell pierced forward, impaling the male in the throat. With the blade hitting its mark, Linedwell swiftly followed this action up by swinging the blade to his right and cutting through another portion of the throat in order to free his blade from the throat of his opponent.

The black-haired male's eyes rapidly scanned the dojo once again before catching sight of the two remaining prisoners. They weren't standing near each other, meaning if Linedwelll went for one of them, it would give the other opponent time to either flee or act. Linedwell decided he wouldn't give either of them a mercy such as this one. Raising his right hand up - the one that held Kusanagi - Linedwell promptly swung it in the direction of one of the prisoners before letting it sail through the air. While the blade cut through the air towards one opponent, Linedwell raced in the direction of the other at full speed.

Within the same instance, both Linedwell's skull-crushing punch was able to land on one of them, while his sword was able to pierce through the eye of the other remaining pirsoner. With the battle finally competed, Linedwell decided that it was now about time to wake Mr. Miyagi up from his nap and inform him of the successful dojo defense. Hopefully a few of the maids would be able to clean up the mess caused as a result of the battle.

"...I guess you've done an alright job. I thought you would have known better than to slaughter these men, but I suppose it's my fault for not detailing that. Eh, they probably would have been executed anyway, no use crying over spilled milk..."

As the old man explained this, Linedwell began to feel as if his bloodlust may become an obstacle he'd have to overcome in the future. It was odd, given the multitude of stories he'd been told about the Marines and then penchant for violence. He'd make sure to keep this in mind in the future, holding back on the desire to kill as the easiest way to deal with a situation would likely help him to look better in the eyes of his higher-ups.

"Here you go...as I promised."

The old man reached within his pocket and soon turned over what appeared to be an old piece of parchment. As Linedwell unfolded the parchment, it was easy to see that it appeared to be a map of some sort - the writing at the top designating that this map lead to a place somewhere on the "Sandy Island".

"This map will lead you to a very ancient place. I'd stumbled across the place just shy of a year ago. When I was there, it was populated by a vast array of monsters the likes I've never seen before or since. They were powerful. However, making my way through the area I was able to find a large amount of treasure. I took back what I was able to, but I left something behind that I've regretted until this day. Because of my travels, I wasn't aware of the Red King's execution...or the events that occurred as a result of it - the birth of Devil Fruits, namely. At the time, I merely thought it was some sort of rare, ingenious fruit I'd never seen before; I was cautious about eating it because I figured it may have been poisonous, but now I know better. From what I know, Devil Fruits don't appear to spoil - I'm sure the fruit is still there to this day. Given where it was located, I'm more than sure of its power. Claim it, and you'll be one step closer to finding the power you've been seeking."

In all honesty, Mr. Miyagi's words came off as entirely too fantastical for his liking. Is that really how easy all of this would be? Find a fruit, eat it, become all powerful? It was easy for someone to doubt these sorts of things, but Linedwell quickly readjusted his thinking. He knew Mr. Miyagi far better than to downplay anything he had to say. If he truly felt this way, then it was true. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He'd find this "ancient" place that his instructor was telling him about and he'd claim the fruit - he'd finally begin his ascent.

"...Now onto the next order of business. If you passed the test I'd given you, I was instructed to give you your new assignment. It seems your potential has been noticed by more than just I. A Mr. Lu Dahn Ricchi has recently been promoted to Commodore, and he's personally recruited you into his brand new unit. I don't have any other information about him or what you'll be doing...however, it seems your first order of business will be traveling to Sandy Island via Sea Train."

Linedwell couldn't help but smile as he listened to the last part of Mr. Miyagi's words. It seemed the divine was truly on his side. What were the chances that a place he wanted to go was also a placed he was required to go? Because of this, he gave little thought to the fact that he'd been personally picked out to join a group, or who exactly these two other Marines were. This would be something he'd give thought to on his way there. Mr. Miyagi could sense Linedwell's anticipation beginning to rise, and decided to finally wrap up the conversation.

"Because of this new assignment, I've been authorized to give you enough money to purchase a ticket to Sandy Island via the Sea Train, however, I've decided to give you a bit extra though as spending money. We'll say it's a gift for being one of the more impressive pupils I've had in a while."

With a smile, Mr. Miyagi began to shoo Linedwell off in the direction of the door.

"Now run along, it won't do for you to be late. It'll take a while for you to reach the island. Try your hardest while you're out there. This world is a dangerous place, and it'll rip you apart if you aren't focused. You have the tools to succeed, but it's up to you to use them adequately."

With a short bow, Linedwell paid his respects to his master.

"Thank you, Sensei. I appreciate all that you've done for me in such a short time. The next time we meet, I won't be the same person standing in front of you today."

Though it was a bit cryptic, Mr. Miyagi completely understood Linedwell's words.

"You better not be, otherwise, I'd have been wrong about you."

With these farewells exchanged, Linedwell made his exit from the dojo and worked his way to the barracks to pack up his belongings. He had no time to waste, his destiny had been waiting long enough.

-Exit-

With the weights now secured in place, Hiro made his way outside. His mind was preoccupied. He'd met strong opponents ever since he left his island but he'd always found a way to deal with them sooner or later. Hiro stepped to the side to allow a group of marines to run by him. His task seemed more and more impossible every step he took. Before he'd left Mr. Miyagi had instructed him to curl the weights every third step and it was wearing him down. His arms felt like lead and he wasn't even done with the first lap.

Hours passed before Hiro finally came back to the dojo. One lap had taken him over 2 hours and he was exhausted. He collapsed on the stairs leading up to the dojo. Hiro buried his head in his arms. He knew he had to keep going but didn't understand why he'd been given this task. He decided it didn't matter why he'd been told to do this, but that he'd do it. He stood up and carried onwards. Hiro ran until the sun set and he completed his 5th lap. He was bone tired and could barely reach the barracks in time. His feet gave way as soon as he'd reached his bed. Hiro lay there for quite some time. His thoughts gravitated towards the sparring match. He spent a few minutes analyzing his movements to the best of his ability. He couldn't help but think his fighting style was oftentimes too calculated. It slowed his reaction time considerably. Hiro didn't get a chance to continue his analysis, he dozed off soon after coming to a conclusion.

Hiro woke up as soon as the roll call began. He quickly made his cot, picked up the borrowed weights, and hobbled outside. His whole body still ached from the thrashing he'd received but for some reason he felt invigorated. Although it had been painful and humiliating, Hiro felt refreshed for the first time. Upon reaching the dojo he took off his shirt and made a makeshift sling. He quickly went inside and retrieved another set of dumbbells. Hiro placed the new set into the sling, tightened it against his bare chest and squatted down to pick up the remaining set. The burden was immediately noticeable and it took quite some time for him to adjust the sling so that it didn't upset his balance.

As soon as he felt he was ready, Hiro set off to finish the remaining laps. The dejection he felt yesterday was gone, replaced by determination. I've got to push myself beyond my limits if I want to actually be someone in this world! It was a mantra repeated to him daily by his father. To be someone in this world called for unbelievable amounts of effort and willpower. At first he was struggling to keep the pace he set before, but after the first few laps he felt comfortable with the distribution of weight. The young ensign began to pick up speed after the first few laps. He was now walking at a regular speed, although he still made sure to curl the dumbbells every other step. His entire body was screaming as if on fire but he refused to succumb to fatigue. He'd prove that old man wrong just as soon as he was finished with this.

The everyday hustle and bustle of the base continued throughout the day, with only the occasional 'good luck, kid!' to break the monotony of it all. Running this route for two days straight led Hiro to become familiar with the routines of the other marines. Hiro forced himself to look ahead. He was out of breath and almost entirely out of energy. He'd finished 10 laps today and the last one he'd barely managed. Hiro pushed himself to his feet, careful not to lose his balance, and headed back to the barracks. Despite the aching pain in every fiber of his being, he wanted to continue this until the end. He had 85 laps to go before what he assumed would be a rematch with Mr. Miyagi.

That train of thought left his mind as soon as his face made contact with his cot, leaving the dumbbells beside his dresser. Hiro woke up several hours later in the middle of the night. He was still tired enough to go back to sleep but something inside told him to get up and so he did. He quietly dressed himself and snuck out of the barracks. His muscles still hurt but he made up his mind and he wearily started a lap around the base.

Getting used to the level of light didn't take as long as he thought it would. Within 10 minutes Hiro was fast walking down cobblestone paths like it was his job. He greeted the marines who were unlucky enough to be on the graveyard shift as they passed him by. As he rounded the corner marking a complete lap, Hiro slowed down and unburdened himself. If he wanted to finish in time to enjoy his shore leave he would have to reorder his priorities. Before he knew it Hiro was sitting down, his back against the wall. It didn't take long for him to doze off.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" The old man grumbled. Mr. Miyagi prodded at the young ensign with his walking cane, jostling him awake. Hiro rubbed the crust from his eyes and stood up, making sure to readjust the sling. He was at a loss for words, Hiro assumed the next time he'd see the old man was when he'd finished his laps. "You will never complete the task I've given you like this." He stared at Hiro intensely before leaving. Normally he would have felt embarrassed or ashamed at having been woken in such a manner, but somewhere along the line he'd changed. Hiro wasn't going to let this interaction discourage him, in fact he would use it as  fuel.

He dashed down the familiar route with renewed energy. The nap he'd taken had nothing to do with his newfound endurance. Whenever he found himself comfortable with his pace, he increased it dramatically. Hiro was no longer in any rush to complete the task, he now knew he would have to ignore the limitations his brain put on his body. He would not stop until he collapsed from exhaustion. As he rounded the corner leading towards the dojo, Hiro glimpsed the dark haired ensign from before. He seemed to have finished his allotted training. Hiro couldn't help but feel envious, but that envy was overpowered by a sense of camraderie. They had both been challenged by Mr. Miyagi to overcome their weaknesses. It was only right that he felt joy for the other marine. At the same time, he couldn't approach the other marine until he'd proven himself. Hiro sped off once more, ignoring his body's frantic cries for rest.

After his 20th lap that day, Hiro stopped counting. He'd shut off the parts of his mind that complained about his body's state. He could feel his body giving way so he sat down. Hiro pulled out a loaf of bread he'd been saving from lunch earlier that day. There was nothing left of it after a few quick chomps. He decided to take a nap and finish what remained of this grand undertaking. The sun had begun to set just as his eyes fluttered shut.

Hiro awoke several hours later, and after a few moments of working the kinks out of his shoulders, he lifted the sling and accompanying dumbbells and set off once more. The young ensign soon came across his superior officer, Lieutenant Markoff. Hiro quickly set down his weights and saluted. "At ease, ensign." Markoff replied gruffly. "Miyagi has asked that you be removed from the duty roster temporarily." The Lieutenant frowned as he spoke. "Your barrack mates are calling you lucky, but those of us who've trained with Miyagi know better." Markoff pointed at the scar on his cheek. "As you were."

The interaction left Hiro feeling a sense of camaraderie, he knew he was not alone in his solitude. Having been freed of his obligations for the moment, he pressed onward and into the night, finally finishing the last of the hundred laps just as the sun rose. The young ensign unburdened himself and sat down. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight. The light washed over him filling him with warmth and a sense of completion.

After an hour of much needed rest and relaxation, Hiro entered the dojo and made a beeline towards the equipment. He certainly felt a lot stronger but he needed to figure out how he'd approach Mr. Miyagi. Besides, he couldn't fight him today, he'd be too tired to fight at his best. Despite looking for over ten minutes he was unable to find a punching bag and left. Wandering outside of the base, he found a stout oak tree. This outta work! Hiro threw a series of jabs at the trunk of the tree. Nuts and leaves fell from overhead and sent a flock of birds skywards.

The bark began to peel off of the area he'd focused on. Hiro found that whenever he had to think about where he wanted to strike, his speed stayed the same. However, when he simply threw an attack at the tree, its speed markedly increased. He attributed this to the weight training and decided to run with it. Fists began to fly as he let the reigns go. For the first time in his life he wasn't letting his mind control his fists. The bark around the tree began to fly off in response to his furious assault. His knuckles became raw and began to leave bloody dents deep in the wood. Hiro stopped for a while to get some hand wraps from the dojo before he continued. His muscles were sufficiiently warmed up which meant it was time to move on. Spreading his legs far apart, Hiro entered a familiar stance. One that he'd seen his father use to blow away his older brother. He reeled in his arm, using his free hand to help aim the blow. With every muscle in his upper body taut and ready to let loose, Hiro held his stance. He could feel his heartbeat reach his extremities individually.