It's been a few weeks since he landed on this island. As for what he did with the beast he hunted, he gutted it and cleaned it perfectly. He even used its bones to make weapons, as those weapons were probably the strongest he could make for now.
They were hella tough—of course they were, since they were used to holding up the weight of an entire beast that dwarfed modern-day creatures.
He made himself some primitive spears, alongside a primitive dagger using the T-rex teeth. It was still quite sharp. He wanted to make a sword, but that shit would take a while, so it took a backseat.
As for what he was doing the whole time—apart from storing some meat by smoking it to make sure it lasted as long as possible—he would, on some days, walk around the island trying out a new fruit or something like that.
Most of the time they seemed poisonous, but his tough body was able to handle it no problem. He barely even noticed a change. The only way he could tell if food was poisonous was by the fact his little flame seemed to flare when he ate them.
This was telling him his body's defense had activated.
As for what he was currently doing:
"Well, better now than never," he said, jumping off a cliff with his wings spread out.
"Come on, fly dammit," he said, flapping his wings around—yet to no avail.
His body plummeted to the floor before—
BAM
He groaned a bit as his body made yet another mark on the floor. There were roughly 200+ man-shaped holes on the ground.
Those were all his attempts at flying. His wings seemed to not want to work for some odd reason. He knew he could fly, yet nothing worked.
Did he have to give himself some sort of method or something?
Maybe set himself some sort of training to do in order to get stronger?
He groaned a bit.
His fear of heights was virtually gone. Still, that didn't mean it didn't hurt to fall from such a high distance.
He calmed down, spreading his wings and making them relax. He watched as his wings spread. Okay, so he could do that.
He flapped them.
His wings flapped.
He did it again—same thing. He continued doing that motion, and his body slightly floated above the ground.
Okay, this was some progress, which barely lasted 2 seconds before the sole of his foot touched the floor again.
Dammit.
Fuck it—back to something he could do.
Annoyed a bit, he went to his favorite wall and began punching.
Thud
Thud
His fists continued making contact with the wall. He had his flame off for this, punching over and over again with everything he had.
—Time skip 12 hours—
It was night now. He was covered in sweat, his fists had callouses on them, but he wasn't worried. He had made some healing herbs nearby.
He could heal that shit very fast.
Plus, with this world's logic, he just needed to eat to heal.
So, entering his house, he began to devour everything in sight.
So much meat went down his throat... pause.
And he fell asleep right after eating.
Once awake, the cycle would continue: wake up in the morning hella early, continue construction on the house. While building the house, practice jutsu. Later in the day, go hunting, come back, tend to the garden of wild fruits and vegetables, watch Dorry and Broggy box for a while, return home, practice flight for 2 hours.
Then punch a wall for the remainder of the day, or until the sun went down.
Rinse and repeat.
This tragic schedule of his helped him get stronger. Every day, every single one of his skills was worked.
And I do mean all of them— not a single skill was neglected.
Though some days he did focus on some skills over others, depending on what was falling behind.
Like this, he was sure he could grow fast, and with his mastery system, he was sure he would get very strong in little time.
He heard something about Haki blooming during life-or-death situations, so sometimes he went out and fought the beasts in this forest—all of them, no exception—hunting every single one of them.
While other times, he would take a mushroom he knew was highly poisonous but had tested and knew wouldn't kill him even with his flame off.
He would take it and train with his flame off, basically faking a life-or-death situation in order to stimulate it, but nothing happened.
It seemed like it had to be the real thing—none of that fake shit. He did see growth, but not as much as if it were real.
As for this Haki thing, he was getting a bit frustrated. He couldn't get it. He had only a year left, dammit—he refused to be bitchless—he meant hakiless—in that time.
He would work till his bones gave out, dammit.