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"Kill!"
The roar tore from Kōjin's throat, drowning out the thunder. His boots slammed into the deck, fracturing the wood, and in a blur of motion, he vanished.
Soru.
When he materialized a split second later, he was already face-to-face with a pirate. There was no hesitation as Kōjin's fist hammered down like a falling meteor.
CRACK.
The sound was sickeningly wet. The pirate's cheekbone collapsed, his head twisting at an impossible angle before the sheer kinetic force spiked him through the deck floorboards. Blood misted the air.
But the battlefield granted no pauses. A sudden chill pricked the back of Kōjin's neck… Killing Intent.
Three long blades slashed toward his exposed back in a synchronized and deadly way. Kōjin didn't dodge. He stopped breathing, his muscles locking instantly into a composition harder than steel.
"Tekkai!"
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The blades struck flesh, but the sound that rang out was as if they had hit an anvil. The vibrations traveled up the pirates' arms, shattering their composure. Their faces twisted from bloodlust to sheer horror.
"He's a Devil Fruit User!"
"Impossible... I hit him! Why won't he bleed?!"
"Even Big Sword Mitas couldn't scratch him!"
Kōjin exhaled, his muscles relaxing.
'Tekkai isn't as useless as I thought, ' he mused. 'Against small fry, it's absolutely invincible.'
He spun on his heel, momentum carrying his right leg high into the air before snapping it down like a guillotine.
"Rankyaku!"
A compressed blade of wind tore from his leg, carving a crescent path through the three attackers. There were no screams, only the spray of crimson and the thud of bodies hurled overboard.
Then, the sharp report of a rifle cut through the storm.
BANG!
A heavy lead slug slammed into the back of Kōjin's head. His body flickered like a glitch in reality, then stabilized.
He vanished again.
When he reappeared, he was looming over the rifleman. The pirate was shaking so violently that the gun rattled in his grip.
"I really hate it," Kōjin whispered, his voice cutting through the rain like ice, "When people point guns at my head."
To the pirate, the boy in front of him wasn't human. He had seen the bullet hit. He had seen the impact. But there wasn't even a bruise on this boy.
Monster... He's a monster!
Kōjin didn't let him finish the thought. He threw a simple, brutal straight punch.
The impact pulverized the man's skull, launching him off the ship with enough force to clear the railing by twenty feet.
RUMBLE… CRACK!
Lightning forked across the charcoal sky, illuminating the deck in stroboscopic flashes of white light. It revealed the faces of the surrounding crew: madness, fear, and desperation.
"Kill!" Kōjin growled, locking his eyes with the next wave.
This was madness. One man against a ship full of elites. He had stopped using his Haki to shield himself, relying solely on his flesh and bone.
Death came for him, riding the wind. Again and again.
But the results were terrifying. These were Golden Lion Shiki's men, these were veterans of the New World. Four of them wielded Armament Haki. Others were master swordsmen or snipers.
And Kōjin was slaughtering them all.
He had died five times in this skirmish alone. Five times his heart stopped, and five times the strange power within him rewrote reality, reviving him, knitting his body back together, and pushing his physical limits higher.
Every ounce of strength he gained from these deaths was poured into a single attribute.
Conqueror's Haki: Level 91.
He flexed his fingers, causing the air around his hand to grow heavy, vibrating with a low hum. With a mere thought, arcs of black-and-red lightning crackled into existence, coiling around his arm like jagged snakes.
It was nearly maxed out. The power of a King.
"I'm sharpening myself against the stone of death," Kōjin muttered, looking toward the remaining ships bobbing in the violent sea. "And farming power while I'm at it."
He bent his knees and launched himself into the storm. With a thunderous boom, he landed on the deck of the adjacent ship.
To his left, the sound of timber screaming in agony drew his attention. Another pirate ship split cleanly down the middle, collapsing into the ocean. Amidst the wreckage and screams, Bogard stood calm and collected.
The silent swordsman caught Kōjin's eye through the rain and gave a simple thumbs-up.
"It's the monster!"
"Use Armament! Cut him down together!"
The pirates on the new ship swarmed, blades drawn.
Kōjin grinned. He watched a burly pirate sprint toward him, a heavy saber raised high, blade coated in the black sheen of Haki. Kōjin clenched his right fist. The atmosphere screamed as black lightning erupted violently, wrapping his arm in an aura of pure domination.
'Haoshoku Infusion.'
He didn't dodge. He punched straight into the falling blade.
CLANG!
It sounded less like a punch and more like a cannon shot. The black-and-red lightning exploded outward, shockwaves distorting the very air. The deck beneath Kōjin's feet splintered into a spiderweb of cracks.
The pirate's eyes went wide, the whites in their eyes showing in terror. The blade in his habd shattered. The force traveled through the steel, through his arms, and into his chest. He was blasted backward, smashing through the mainmast, through the cabin walls, and vanishing into the dark, churning sea.
"Incredible," Kōjin whispered, looking at his own hand. "Even with this much power output, I can control the precision."
As the level rose, the wild, untamed nature of the Haki receded. It was no longer a blunt instrument; it was a scalpel. He could bottle the storm and unleash it only when the metal struck meat.
This was vital. Uncontrolled power was a liability, it was like a wild horse that could trample its rider. But now? He held the reins.
Another enemy lunged. Kōjin moved.
Within minutes, another ship was reduced to driftwood. He died three more times in the process.
Level 94.
The number flashed in his mind. Kōjin's lips curled into a feral smile.
The cap was in sight. Once Haoshoku was maxed, he could focus on the rest. But for now, this was his ace. His trump card.
Kōjin leapt high, using Geppo to kick off the air itself. He hovered above the final pirate ship, a silhouette against the lightning. He drew his right fist back, the black lightning screaming as it condensed around his knuckles.
He punched the empty air, aiming for the ship below.
"Fist Bone - Meteor Strike!"
The pressure wave was tangible. Black-and-red tendrils lashed out like whips, and an invisible column of force slammed into the center of the vessel.
KA-KOOM!
The keel snapped, causing the massive galleon to fold in half like a toy, splinters flying like shrapnel as the ocean swallowed the wreckage.
On the main battleship, the heavy hitters of the Marines watched in silence.
Sakazuki, Kuzan, and Bogard stared up at the youth suspended in the stormy sky, fist still extended.
"That brat..." Sakazuki's magma-red shirt strained as he clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing. "He possesses the disposition of a King."
"Arara," Kuzan tipped his sleep mask up, a lazy but genuine grin spreading across his face. "As expected of our junior. He might have already left us in the dust, hasn't he?"
Bogard sheathed his sword, watching the sinking debris. He said nothing, but the respect in his eyes was clear. Meanwhile, at the bow of the lead ship, Garp threw his head back and roared with laughter, his voice booming over the thunder.
"Bwahahaha! That kid is starting to look a little like me!"
Behind him, a Vice-Admiral stared, jaw slack, at Kōjin, who was now stepping through the air back toward them.
"He... he's practically a teenage version of you, Garp-san!"
Garp's laughter grew even louder. "No! You're wrong!"
He grinned, a savage, proud look in his eyes. "When I was his age? I wasn't nearly that strong!"
The officer froze. He looked back at the boy landing on the deck. The implication was terrifying. If Garp the Fist was weaker than this boy at the same age... what kind of monster would Kōjin become in his prime?
Kōjin landed softly. The battle was over.
The constant cycle of death and rebirth had tempered him like steel in a forge. He couldn't calculate the exact numbers, but the raw power coursing through his veins felt immense. In CP9 terms, his Doriki had to be rivaling the elites.
But more importantly, the System gave a silent notification in the back of his mind.
Haoshoku Haki: Level 99 (MAX).
He had hit the ceiling. His will was now absolute.
Garp walked over, slapping a hand heavy as a sledgehammer onto Kōjin's shoulder.
"Brat, you really are a freak of nature," Garp grinned, sensing the change in the boy's aura. "Just from this brawl alone, I'd wager your Doriki broke past 4000!"
Garp's grin widened, full of manic expectations.
"Keep fighting! Only between life and death does a man truly become strong!"
Kōjin paused, blinking the rain from his eyes.
4000 Doriki?
He looked at his hands, the invisible hum of the Supreme King's Haki resting just beneath his skin.
(End of Chapter)