In the days that followed, Ozz shifted the bulk of his training focus toward building his physical strength.
Though he couldn't compare to those freakishly diligent geniuses who trained two hundred times harder than normal people, when it came to sniping, swordsmanship, and hand-to-hand combat, he could master techniques at twice the speed of even a prodigy like Shanks. That alone made him something of a monster.
So, it was clear: developing his physical strength and Haki early would be more valuable than anything else.
Time passed in a blur.
Two months had gone by since he'd left home. Ozz's days were full, steady, and routine.
Just after dawn, he was already being yanked out of bed by Buggy and Shanks to clean the ship. Yet another feast had broken out the night before—the latest in celebration of Captain Roger's bounty ticking up yet again.
Everyone had a great time. Well… everyone except the trio known unofficially as the "Three Idiots Under the Emperor."
Damn it!
Who the hell throws a party every single day and doesn't get tired?!
Ozz could only shake his head at this merry band of muscleheads—especially Roger, who reminded him more and more of a certain rubbery-headed future pirate. It wasn't that he didn't want to join the fun… it was just that the so-called "rum" tasted awful. Ozz, being someone with zero tolerance or interest in alcohol, just couldn't appreciate it.
This journey across the sea—supposedly the grand, roaring voyage of a future Pirate King—wasn't exactly what Ozz had imagined. Aside from the occasional storm, lightning strike, hailstorm, or hurricane, there wasn't much in the way of epic adventures.
Maybe that was the truth behind this so-called "legendary voyage"—just a bunch of top-tier freaks living large in their own overpowered way.
By the time they finally cleared the ship of empty bottles and leftover scraps, it was nearly lunchtime.
Ozz was just about to go grab a ton of food before diving into training when—
He froze.
Something wasn't right.
He turned sharply, eyes locking on a speck in the distant sky.
Something was flying toward them.
He hadn't seen it—he'd heard it first, thanks to his Observation Haki.
Buggy rushed to the rail, squinting into the distance. "Wait—is that a cannonball?!"
Holy crap.
And sure enough, just beyond the horizon, a patch of white sails crept into view.
Who the hell could launch a cannonball from that far?
A missile?
A creeping suspicion formed in Ozz's mind. He didn't have time to shout a warning. Under the nervous stares of Shanks and Buggy, he swung the long rifle from his back and took aim at the black dot streaking through the sky.
Just then, Captain Roger strolled up to the prow, seemingly out of nowhere, and looked down at Ozz with that familiar wide grin.
"Hey, kid. That guy's cannonballs are fast. You really think you can hit it?"
Was he being underestimated?
Sure, maybe he couldn't take the guy in a fistfight… but nailing a cannonball? That was totally his lane.
Ozz smirked and steadied his aim, syncing with his Observation Haki.
"Got it."
With a crack, the bullet shot forward—hitting the cannonball dead center, right on the mark.
But…
Instead of exploding in mid-air like he expected, the thing bounced his bullet right off and continued falling along its original trajectory.
What the hell?!
That wasn't just any cannonball—it was coated in Haki!
No wonder his shot hadn't worked.
Ozz didn't hesitate. He slung the rifle back and casually retreated behind Buggy and Shanks.
No big deal. When the sky's falling, let the tall ones catch it.
And sure enough—
"Divine Departure!!!"
Roger's roar split the air. His blade crackled with black and red lightning as it carved through the sky, sending out a terrifying shockwave.
It was as if the heavens themselves had been slashed open.
All at once, not just the cannonball Ozz had aimed at, but several more trailing behind it exploded in mid-air, their threat snuffed out before they even reached the ship.
Ozz stood there, stunned by the sheer force of that attack.
He'd seen this move in the anime. It was flashy there, sure—but seeing it in person? A whole different experience.
Slice open the sky with a single swing?
Yeah. Divine Departure was insane. He had to learn it.
Drool nearly forming at the corners of his mouth, Ozz focused intently, using Observation Haki to try and absorb every detail of Roger's motion. But…
He was still too green. He could feel a massive surge of energy moving through Roger's body, but that was it. The rest was still beyond his comprehension.
He sighed in frustration.
Guess it was like trying to copy a forbidden jutsu with a baby Sharingan—if your level's too low, all you get is static.
Before he could reflect any further, Shanks and Buggy dragged him backward, joining the rest of the crew as they braced for the incoming chaos.
"Wahahahaha! Boys, it's time! The Navy's here!" Roger shouted, sword raised high.
Jabba, still in his tank top and gripping twin axes, scowled. "Damn it! Took forever to shake that mangy mutt, and now he's back again after two lousy months?"
Rayleigh, ever direct, raised his sword and casually sent a massive shockwave slicing across the sea.
As expected, it didn't do much. A jet-black punch from one of the warships crushed the blast like it was nothing.
Ozz scrambled up to the crow's nest, where his sniper mentor, Betam, was already stationed.
"Yo, Uncle Betam!"
Despite his bulky frame, Betam moved quickly, turning with a grin. "Well if it ain't Ozz. Careful now. This one's no ordinary chump."
"I'll be fine," Ozz replied with a smile, then peered through his rifle's scope toward the Navy ship on the horizon.
There he was—a broad-shouldered, short-haired man with a scruffy beard, dressed in a black suit under a Vice Admiral's cloak. He casually tossed cannonballs in one hand like they were toys.
So he was the one hurling those Haki-imbued projectiles… with his bare hands.
Honestly, modern artillery had some catching up to do. How could auto-fire cannons still be losing to manual pitching?
"No wonder they call you the King's Chicken Sauce…"
Then came the unmistakable, booming voice from the distance.
"Hey, Roger! I know you can hear me—surrender, now!"
Vice Admiral Garp held a massive megaphone and bellowed across the waves.
Roger laughed and bellowed right back: "Not a chance, Garp!"
The two old rivals didn't even need to be in the same room to start trading quips like it was round one of their usual face-off.
What followed was the usual back-and-forth: wild chases, Haki clashes, and enough destruction to sink a small fleet.
With so many elites in the Roger Pirates and their superior mobility, Garp alone couldn't take them all down.
Not that Roger's crew was interested in locking horns with Garp in the middle of the open sea—one wrong move, and all that Haki flying around could sink every ship and leave them all swimming to the next island.
Every now and then, some gutsy Marine would use Geppo to leap toward the Oro Jackson, only to get knocked into the drink by Rayleigh—or sniped mid-air by Ozz.
That was when Ozz spotted him.
Amid the crowd of grunts, one figure stood out.
Tall. Lanky. Curly-haired.
"Hey hey hey… what's he doing here? That guy's up to no good."
If Ozz didn't recognize him, the kid might've slipped right past unnoticed.
But he knew. That guy with the Ice-Ice Fruit had no business sneaking up on their ship.
Ozz reached into his pouch and pulled out a special round—the only Seastone bullet he'd managed to swindle from Betam.
He aimed. Grinned.
A little welcome gift…
For the young ice punk—Kuzan.