Chapter 78: Foundations
From that day on, Satoru carried the secret mark of the Revolutionary Army. As an outsider reincarnated into this world, its fate wasn't originally his concern. But after living here for over a decade, bonds had formed—Garp, Luffy, the people of Windmill Village, Master Zephyr, his classmates from the elite class, and now the men of G-8. They were his anchors. To live without a purpose was exhausting, so he chose the most monumental one: to change the world. It was a challenge worthy of his power, just as Gojo Satoru had sought to reform the Jujutsu world. Both Satorus were destined to challenge the status quo.
His meeting with Dragon was brief. The Revolutionary Army leader was a busy man, and personal recruitment missions were reserved for the most crucial prospects.
Could I bring Master Zephyr into the fold as well? The thought crossed Satoru's mind. In the future he vaguely recalled, Zephyr would form the NEO Navy, his brand of justice utterly at odds with the World Government. Having a legendary former Admiral and master tactician like Zephyr would be a massive boost for the Revolutionaries. Even as just an instructor, he could elevate their entire army's level.
But how? A simple invitation would never work. Dragon had likely already tried and failed. If Satoru broached the subject directly now, he'd probably get a stern "correction" from his master about proper Marine thinking. It was a seed that would need careful planting, far in the future.
The Navy Headquarters' large-scale purge of the New World continued for another month before finally concluding. It was declared a total victory. While no Emperors had fallen, many powerful second-tier pirate crews and their affiliates had been crushed or driven deep into hiding. Each captured pirate was loudly proclaimed in the newspapers, a constant drumbeat of Marine success.
Public trust and morale in the Navy soared to new heights. The fear spawned by the 'Four Emperors' title began to recede. Satoru knew it was temporary—pirates were like weeds, they'd grow back—but for now, the Navy had secured a crucial breathing space.
A grand commendation ceremony was held at Marineford. Though Satoru couldn't leave his post to attend, his merits were undeniable: holding G-8 against Kaido and his earlier exploits against numerous pirate crews. The combined achievements resulted in a historic promotion. At ten years old, Monkey D. Satoru was elevated to the rank of Vice Admiral of the Navy Headquarters. He would remain in command of G-8, but the title granted him the authority to return to Headquarters whenever he wished.
The most tangible progress, however, was at the base itself. The ruins were slowly giving way to a new foundation. Embracing the 'out with the old' spirit, Satoru had designed new blueprints. The plans were… ambitious. More fortified, more imposing, with defensive structures that rivaled, and in some aspects surpassed, the designs of Marineford itself. Anyone reviewing the plans might accuse him of building a personal fortress, but he filed them under "optimal New World defensive architecture."
"At this rate… maybe six more months," Satoru mused, looking over the bustling construction site. Six months was a long time, but it would pass quickly between patrols and training. A single pirate-hunting voyage could take weeks.
Speaking of training, it never stopped. With the Rokushiki basics mastered, Satoru had introduced the next step: Observation Haki. While many of his men had naturally awakened Armament Haki through intense combat, Observation was a mystery to most.
His training method was brutal in its simplicity. Pairs of Marines would train, one blindfolded, the other attacking with wooden staffs or practice swords. The goal was to dodge. The early sessions were a symphony of pained grunts and the solid thwack of wood on flesh. The initial excitement about learning this legendary skill quickly turned into dread.
Every man prayed for luck—to blindly sense the incoming strike, to move just in time. They also prayed their partner would go easy. The second prayer was never answered. Satoru supervised personally. Any sign of mercy meant the merciful one would get a personal training session with their Vice Admiral next. The results of those sessions were the stuff of whispered horror stories.
Thus, two sounds defined the rebuilt sections of G-8: the relentless clamor of construction and the synchronized groans of Marines being pummeled into learning Observation Haki. Their daily state—covered in bruises, sometimes bleeding—was so pitiful that the captured pirate laborers almost felt sympathy for them.
That sympathy, however, killed any thoughts of escape. Every time such an idea formed among the prisoners, Satoru would appear among them as if from thin air, a cheerful, chilling smile on his face.
"Hello, gentlemen! Thinking of taking a stroll?"
The first few times, large groups had tried to rush him. Those attempts ended before they began. One moment they were charging; the next, they were all on the ground, unconscious, with no memory of how they fell. They hadn't even seen him move. The absolute, insurmountable gap in power became terrifyingly clear. Resistance was pointless. Their only hope for a reduced sentence was hard labor.
And so, through a blend of sheer force, relentless training, and backbreaking work, the G-8 base thrived. Each day was a cycle of sweat, pain, and progress. To an outsider, it might have looked like a peculiar kind of hell. But to Satoru, standing atop a newly raised watchtower, it was the sound of a foundation being built—for his base, for his men, and for the distant future he was now secretly sworn to shape. Life at G-8 was, in its own intense, grueling way, pleasantly productive.
(End of Chapter)
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