Chapter 320: The Flower-Flower Fruit
By the time Ragnar reached his small wooden house, night had fully claimed the village. The funeral for Uzumaki Mito had halted all public entertainment, and the streets that usually bustled with evening activity lay silent and deserted. No lanterns glowed in the windows of the shops. No children chased each other through the alleys. Even the insects seemed muted, as if the whole of Konoha had agreed to observe a moment of extended silence.
Ragnar settled onto his bed and crossed his legs, falling into the familiar rhythm of meditation. His body was still humming with the residual energy of the battle. The confrontation with the Nine-Tails had been brief but intense—a clash of titans that had reshaped the landscape outside the village walls. Now, in the quiet aftermath, it was time to reflect.
I suppressed the Nine-Tails, he thought, but the fox had only just broken free of its seal. Its power was nowhere near its peak. Victory under those conditions means little.
The Tailed Beasts, for all their fearsome reputation, were fundamentally simple opponents. Their chakra was vast—terrifyingly so—but they wielded it crudely. A Tailed Beast Bomb was devastating, but it was also predictable. The fox had no techniques. No tactics. No adaptability. It relied on overwhelming force, and when that force was matched, it had nothing else. This was why the Uchiha clan could enslave a Tailed Beast with a single glance. It was why Hashirama had treated the Nine-Tails like a misbehaving pet.
The Buddha's power is extraordinary, he continued, turning his analysis inward. At Level 5, it can already match the Nine-Tails in scale and exceed it in speed. And its potential is far from exhausted. At higher levels, its size may break through all restrictions. At that point, grabbing the Nine-Tails will be as easy as picking up a chicken.
The thought was satisfying. Hashirama's Wood Golem had done exactly that—plucked the Nine-Tails from the battlefield like a farmer plucking a vegetable from the ground. Ragnar intended to surpass that.
But there was a problem. A limitation he had not yet overcome.
When he used the Buddha Fruit, he could not simultaneously wield his other Devil Fruits. It was not a strict prohibition—theoretically, he could activate the Gravity Fruit or the Flame-Flame Fruit while the Buddha was manifested. But the physical energy consumption was catastrophic. The drain was exponential, not additive. Trying to layer multiple Fruit abilities at once felt like trying to mix oil and water at high pressure—the components rejected each other, and the strain on his body was unsustainable.
His half-Sage Body could handle a single Fruit with ease. Combining them was another matter entirely.
There's a missing piece, he thought. Something that would allow the powers to harmonize rather than conflict. I haven't found it yet.
Haki, at least, suffered from no such limitation. The three Colors flowed through him regardless of which Fruit he was actively using. Armament could not coat elemental attacks—fire was fire, gravity was gravity—but it could reinforce his physical blows and the Buddha's golden fists. Observation remained ever-vigilant. Conqueror's could be unleashed in any form.
The platinum treasure chest. I earned it by defeating the Nine-Tails. Time to see what's inside.
With a thought, Ragnar withdrew the chest from his system inventory.
The dark room suddenly blazed with light. The treasure chest materialized in the air before him, its platinum surface gleaming with an inner radiance that cast long, dancing shadows across the walls. It was beautiful in the way that only things of immense value could be—pristine, luminous, promising wonders beyond imagination.
He reached out with his consciousness. The lid began to open.
Squeak.
Petals. A cascade of beautiful, delicate petals spilled from the opening chest, swirling through the air like a spring breeze had suddenly blown through the room. Their fragrance was faint but distinct—the scent of flowers in bloom, of gardens at dawn, of something impossibly gentle and lovely.
Ragnar's expression flickered.
...No.
Inside the chest, suspended in the center of the petal-filled light, was a Devil Fruit.
It was, without question, the most beautiful Devil Fruit he had ever seen. Its shape resembled a cluster of blooming petals, layer upon layer of pink folds that curled outward in a perfect spiral. The color was a deep, rich peach, almost glowing from within. If there were a competition for aesthetics among Devil Fruits, this one would win without contest.
Information flowed into his mind, as it always did when the system presented a new Fruit.
Flower-Flower Fruit. Paramecia-type Devil Fruit. Allows the user to sprout any part of their body like a flower from any tangible surface. Petals will accompany the manifestation of the ability during combat.
The Hana Hana no Mi.
Ragnar stared at the beautiful Fruit for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly.
Of course. Of course it is.
In the world he remembered, this Fruit had belonged to Nico Robin—the archaeologist, the scholar, the woman who sought only to uncover the true history of the world. She had developed her ability in a very specific direction: sprouting hands, arms, eyes, and ears to interact with her environment, to gather intelligence, to subdue opponents without killing them. Her fighting style was elegant. Restrained. Almost gentle.
But the Flower-Flower Fruit's potential was far greater than anything Robin had ever tapped into.
The Rubber Fruit was considered one of the weakest Paramecia until Luffy awakened it and unlocked its true nature, Ragnar thought. The Flower-Flower Fruit is similar. Its fundamental ability—to multiply body parts across any surface—is limited only by the user's imagination and physical capacity. In the right hands...
In the right hands, it could become something terrifying. Not merely hands sprouting from walls. Not merely eyes and ears for reconnaissance. But everything. Every limb. Every surface. A thousand arms. A thousand fists. A rain of blows from every direction at once.
The Senju Buddha. The Thousand-Armed Kannon. Hashirama's ultimate technique—the Wood Release True Several Thousand Hands that could dwarf even the Nine-Tails and pummel Susanoo into rubble. I could replicate that. No—I could surpass it.
The synergy was obvious. The Buddha Fruit gave him the titanic form. The Flower-Flower Fruit could multiply its arms into a thousand—a ten-thousand-fist barrage delivered from a single golden platform, each blow carrying the full weight of the Buddha's divine power.
I'll call it the Ten-Thousand-Hand Great Sun Tathagata Golden Buddha.
The only obstacle was the fusion problem. Multiple Fruits resisting simultaneous use. But that was a challenge for another day. First, he needed to acquire the power.
Ragnar took a deep breath. Then he reached into the chest, picked up the beautiful pink Fruit, and bit into it.
The taste was indescribable. Not in a good way. Devil Fruits, regardless of their appearance, all shared the same fundamental truth: they tasted like garbage. Rotting fruit. Spoiled milk. Something that had been left in the sun for a week and then blended into a smoothie. The Flower-Flower Fruit, for all its beauty, was no exception.
He forced himself to chew. Swallow. The Fruit dissolved on his tongue, and a new power stirred within him—a fourth presence joining the three that already resided in his body. The Flame-Flame Fruit's fiery orange. The Buddha Fruit's serene gold. The Gravity Fruit's deep violet. And now, the Flower-Flower Fruit's soft, delicate pink.
Four Devil Fruits. Four distinct powers, coiling in his core like serpents sharing a nest.
He raised a hand. Focused his will. And from the wall behind him, an arm sprouted. Then another. And another. A dozen arms in the span of a heartbeat, emerging from the wooden surface as naturally as buds emerging from a branch. They moved in unison—his will directing them, his chakra sustaining them.
This is only the beginning. At Level 1, the power is rudimentary. But the potential...
He dismissed the arms and pulled up his system interface.
[ Host: Ragnar ]
Abilities:
Conqueror's Haki — Lv. 4
Observation Haki — Lv. 5
Armament Haki — Lv. 4
Soru (Shave) — Lv. 3
Geppo (Moonwalk) — Lv. 3
Upgrade to next level: 10,000 EXP
Skills:
Tornado Profound Truth
Thirty-Six Calamity Winds
Seventy-Two Calamity Winds
One-Sword Style: Lion's Song
Devil Fruits:
Mera Mera no Mi (Flame-Flame) — Lv. 5
Hito Hito no Mi, Model: Daibutsu — Lv. 5
Zushi Zushi no Mi (Gravity) — Lv. 4
Hana Hana no Mi (Flower-Flower) — Lv. 1
Upgrade to next level: 100,000 EXP
Weapons:
Great Blade: Yama
Murakumogiri
Experience: 72,000 / 100,000
He studied the panel. The Marine Six Styles—Soru and Geppo—could be improved through physical training alone. As his body grew stronger, so too would their speed and efficiency. He did not need to spend precious experience points on techniques that would naturally evolve alongside him.
The Flower-Flower Fruit, however, was a different matter. At Level 1, it was barely functional. A handful of limbs. Limited range. Minimal force. To achieve the Thousand-Armed Buddha, he would need to push this Fruit to at least Level 4—the threshold where Devil Fruit abilities began to transcend their basic limitations and approach their true potential.
He made his decision.
"System. Upgrade the Flower-Flower Fruit to Level 4."
The experience points drained from his pool. 30,000—gone in an instant. The counter flickered and dropped: 42,000 remaining.
And then the power hit him.
It was not gentle. It was not gradual. The system's upgrades were always violent—a dam breaking, a floodgate opening, the sudden, overwhelming rush of new potential flooding every cell in his body. The soft pink presence in his core expanded. Intensified. Blossomed, appropriately, like a flower unfurling its petals to the sun.
When the sensation faded, Ragnar opened his eyes. He raised a hand. And the room erupted.
Arms. Hundreds of them. They sprouted from the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the furniture—a forest of limbs that moved in perfect synchronization with his will. Each one was his. Each one carried his strength. The range had expanded exponentially. The control was absolute.
Level 4, he thought. This is enough to begin. To experiment. To build the foundation of the Ten-Thousand-Hand Golden Buddha.
He dismissed the arms with a thought. The room returned to its peaceful stillness. Outside, the moon had risen—silver now, no longer blood-red, as if the world itself had exhaled in relief.
Four Devil Fruits. Three Haki Colors. The foundations of a power that had never before existed in either of the worlds he knew.
And somewhere in the distance, the Five-Tails stirred in her sleep and muttered to herself: That human is doing something weird again. I can feel it.
She rolled over and went back to snoring.
(End of Chapter)
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