Chapter 11 Chambord Islands!
"Finally, we are approaching the Chambord Islands we would have been faster if Boa Hancock hadn't caused trouble."
Vice Admiral Flying Squirrel voiced his complaint, clearly displeased.
It had been three days since they left the Calm Belt using a warship equipped with Seastone-coated keels, and they were due to arrive at the Sabaody Archipelago commonly known as the Chambord Islands by nightfall.
After a night's rest at the Marine station on Sabaody, they would set sail at dawn for Marineford, the Marine Headquarters located directly past the Red Line.
According to the original timetable, they should have reached Marineford tonight.
But due to Boa Hancock's interference and the unexpected confrontation they were delayed.
The relationship between the Shichibukai and the Marines was always delicate.
Although the Seven Warlords were officially sanctioned by the World Government, their arrogance and independent conduct often led to friction.
Even so, a Warlord like Boa Hancock actively striking at a Marine officer was nearly unheard of.
This was the first time Vice Admiral Flying Squirrel had ever faced such a situation.
Karl, however, remained unfazed.
Speed and schedule were of little concern to him.
He had only one goal at present to sharpen and stabilize his strength.
The brief clash with Boa Hancock had left an impression on him.
Although it had lasted only moments, it revealed something crucial—Karl's current power was at the lower end of the Vice Admiral tier.
But Hancock was no ordinary Warlord she was a master of all three forms of Haki, a user of the Mero Mero no Mi, and had immense combat intuition.
Even Karl's strongest direct blow delivered with full force had been effortlessly blocked by her hardened leg using Armament Haki.
That made things very clear—he still couldn't defeat her.
"Karl—you're still training when we're almost at the Chambord Islands? Do you really need to push yourself this hard?"
"I heard from the locals back in that small port town—you do 1,500, even 2,000 push-ups every day! I didn't believe it at first but it looks like they weren't exaggerating at all!"
"Haha Brother Karl really is too diligent. But I guess that's why he was able to defeat the Golden Lion, right?"
"Sure, maybe there was some luck involved but no one can deny that Karl's talent and discipline are both terrifying. I honestly envy that level of drive."
Though most of the other Marines in the training room had already finished and moved on to rest, Karl was still at it his body drenched in sweat, his breath steady and controlled.
Along with push-ups, Karl had incorporated every standard Marine training regimen into his daily schedule.
He wasn't just pushing himself harder—he was mastering every element of basic training with surgical precision.
His current power level allowed him to dominate normal training drills but by fully mastering these foundational exercises, Karl was improving control over every inch of his body.
Although his strength has not been significantly improved, Carl feels that his mastery of his own muscles has improved a lot.
"Huh~"
"Don't tease me killing the Golden Lion really was luck. My strength isn't on par with Vice Admiral Flying Squirrel, but compared to you guys, there's no problem."
Carl smiled as he stopped training and went over to eat his meal.
The other Marines heard him and laughed the atmosphere in the training room was light-hearted and sincere.
They weren't mocking him. On the contrary, they all knew that what Carl said was true, and it brought them genuine joy.
After Carl repelled Boa Hancock a Warlord of the Sea no less many Marines aboard the warship grew eager to speak with him.
There were no exceptions.
Among all the Marines aboard, not one could match Carl's power.
Unless more than a dozen soldiers attacked him at once individually, they'd all be swiftly overwhelmed!
Vice Admiral Flying Squirrel had seen it for himself—he watched Carl battle and train, and couldn't help but feel pleased deep down.
He had already decided that, before Carl was assigned an independent command and warship, he would keep him by his side.
"Carl—don't eat too much tonight. We'll be heading into the Chambord Islands shortly. Once we dock, I'll treat you to a big meal!"
"A feast? For real?"
Hearing what Flying Squirrel said, Carl's eyes lit up with childlike glee, then he patted his pocket and gave a sheepish grin.
"Well... the bounty reward for Golden Lion hasn't been issued yet. Right now, I'm completely broke..."
"Hahahaha! Don't worry what kind of stingy man would I be if I couldn't cover one meal? Leave it to me!"
"Deal!"
Carl's eyes sparkled with anticipation as Flying Squirrel laughed warmly.
But his good mood didn't last long.
Night soon fell.
In the largest bar on the Chambord Islands most likely one of the bubbleside taverns popular with Marines—the sailors were drinking merrily.
Only Carl sat in a corner—focused entirely on eating!
He had already devoured twenty of the bar's signature dishes!
And he wasn't stopping—he continued to eat with unwavering determination!
Ever since Carl's strength had reached a new tier, his appetite had ballooned in turn.
He didn't know whether it was tied to his stamina training or some Devil Fruit side effect, but the more he ate, the more his body seemed to respond positively.
So Carl didn't hold back especially now that someone else was picking up the tab!
Plus, back on the warship, he had eaten lightly for the sake of rationing with the others.
But now? With no budget constraints, he devoured everything without restraint!
Meanwhile, Flying Squirrel stared mournfully at his increasingly empty wallet.
"Had I known, I'd have kept my mouth shut. There goes my entire monthly military salary..."
Flying Squirrel sighed in despair while Carl finally finished the twenty-sixth bowl of rice, let out a satisfied burp, and leaned back.
"Perfect! Now I'm really full!"
"Yes... very good... full is great..."
Flying Squirrel looked spiritually defeated and gave up trying to speak further.
Carl chuckled, waved, and announced that he was heading out.
Tonight was officially their night of liberty.
Once they returned to Marineford in the morning, they'd be back on duty, and Carl knew it would be a while before he could visit the Chambord Archipelago again.
So, he decided to make use of this time—maybe even confirm the location of a legendary figure.
After some walking—using his memory from his past life Carl found a bar with a faded but iconic name:
"Shakky's Rip-Off Bar."
"Boss—what's your specialty here?"
Carl slapped his hand on the counter with exaggerated flair, drawing the attention of several rowdy customers.
Shakky, cigarette in hand, eyed him coolly and slid over a drink menu.
"So, what'll it be, stranger?"
"This, this, and this..."
Shakky squinted. The man had pointed to the three most expensive drinks on the list.
She narrowed her eyes, already expecting to fleece him hard.
But Carl's next sentence nearly made her drop her cigarette holder.
"Actually—I don't want any of those!"
"Just give me a glass of cold water! But if it's more than 100 Berries, I'll pass!"
"Heh—you're lucky. Water's free."
Shakky threw him a hard look, then went to fetch the water.
The surrounding patrons began to laugh mockingly.
They'd assumed Carl was a big spender possibly a noble or bounty hunter.
But his next move shattered their expectations.
"Hahahaha! Thought he was loaded but turns out he's broke!"
"He came to a bar just to order water? That's hilarious!"
"Oi, brat—this bar's my turf! You trying to start something?!"
Various drunkards shouted, puffing themselves up.
But Shakky just shot them an indifferent glance and ignored the bluster.
She heard declarations like that every day.
Usually, those who made such claims were never seen again by morning.
She couldn't care less anymore.
"Here's your cold water—drink and go. This bar doesn't cater to freeloaders!"
Shakky's tone turned cold.
She had seen countless broke wanderers but Carl's self-assured attitude despite being penniless was a new one.
Naturally, she didn't like it.
"Hey now—don't be so cold. I'm actually here for information."
"Information?"
Shakky's eyes narrowed. For some reason, the young man looked oddly familiar.
"I'm looking for someone—is Silvers Rayleigh here?"