────────────────────────
[The Moss Kid]
────────────────────────
| The next day, Dan's POV: |
...
"Sei! Sei! Sei!"
'Hmm...'
"Sei! Sei! Sei!"
'Hmm...'
"Sei! Sei! Sei!"
Okay, I genuinely don't feel any different. Not in the slightest bit.
I had expected some kind of enlightenment to wash over me the moment I swung the sword—a flash of clarity, a surge of strength, anything. But it feels exactly the same as yesterday.
Wait... Don't tell me I forgot to equip it?
...
═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════
Current Infamy Tier: Starter
▸[Current Bounty: 0 / 500K]
▸[NP: 0]
Equipped Passive Hacks [1/1]
▸ SpeedyGains
Equipped Active Hacks [0/1]
▸ None
Equipped Script
▸ None
═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════
...
Nope, there it is. It should be working perfectly.
'Then what the heck am I missing?'
I tilted my head slightly as I kept swinging, waiting for any sort of enlightenment to settle over me at any minute.
After yesterday's fiasco on the boat, I had become acutely aware of just how extraordinary my system actually was. All it had allegedly done was make me a super-fisherman—and yet it had still felt genuinely amazing, like I had a real superpower.
Even if that superpower was fishing at superspeed.
'Better stop thinking about it, or the more I'll feel like a fool for getting so excited over that.'
Fortunately, the fish weren't the only benefit my newfound abilities had brought me. Old man Shun had been so thrilled about the whole "legendary fisherman" business that he'd gone ahead and upped my allowance. As in, from zero to a thousand Beli per week.
So now I could actually buy things… In due time.
A thousand wasn't a fortune—but the fishermen didn't rake in much on a monthly basis anyway, so for a kid, it was decent. And if my skill kept boosting their daily haul, I'd consider asking for more.
I wasn't a pushover… Most of the time.
Nodding to myself, I kept swinging the sword—having completely forgotten to actually check on SpeedyGains and whether it was showing any results yet.
And while I was doing that—
—Shaa!—
The dojo door swung open hard, and a green-haired kid stumbled through it carrying an armful of bamboo swords, eyes sweeping the room with a look somewhere between frantic and annoyed.
"Sensei, where's Kuina?!"
Everyone paused and turned to look at him. I did too, though I already knew exactly who he was the moment he walked in.
'That's... Zoro.'
Roronoa Zoro. Part of the main cast. Luffy's first crew member. Aspiring best swordsman in the world. A compass's worst nightmare. Probably the most fangirled character in the whole series, second-biggest chest as well, and certified minority hunter.
Also—and looking at him from a less otherwordly lens—a prodigious kid who had arrived at this dojo before me and shot up in strength at an alarming pace, quickly narrowing the gap between himself and the dojo's reigning genius. Kuina.
Well, narrowing wasn't quite the right word. He was still getting his ass handed to him on a daily basis.
If I recalled correctly, the two of them were somewhere around their 1100th duel by now—all victories belonging to Kuina. Zoro had already been at it for nearly an entire year by the time I joined the dojo. The day I walked in, they had just finished their 1018th
To the old me, he had been an untouchable star. Living proof of what raw, undiluted talent looked like. And while the talent was undeniable—since he was already beating adults despite his age—it would be wrong to pretend he didn't train like a man possessed as well.
The old me had never seen that side of it. To him, the green-haired kid had simply been lucky, gifted, and strangely fixated on losing to Kuina.
But now I knew better. He was a talented but also relentlessly hard-working person—who also happened to be strangely fixated on losing to Kuina.
'Pfft.'
While I cringily laughed at my own jokes, upon hearing the commotion, Koushirou glanced up from the class, focusing on Zoro unhurriedly. "You're finally here. She's practicing behind the dojo." He jerked a thumb toward the back without breaking his calm expression.
Zoro gave a quick nod, already turning, and scrambled back out the door—probably on his way to add another loss to his tally.
I watched him go, my sword slowing slightly as my thoughts wandered somewhere less cheerful.
'It was at their 2001st duel, wasn't it? At least the number is easy to remember.' I mused, picturing the images from the anime.
The day Zoro forged his rivalry with Kuina into something deeper—a promise made between two people dead set on reaching the top—and also the same day when that very promise was shattered once Kuina had an accident.
The sheer abruptness of it, right after such a seemingly fated promise between rivals… It was so anticlimactic that it was almost comical. Almost.
We're serious people here, so we won't laugh.
And all of it caused by the most fearsome enemy known to man. Down D. Stairs.
Thinking of such a terrible force of nature, my mind drifted naturally toward my own path.
'Should I do something about it?'
My goal was to become a criminal—a spectacularly notorious one. But that didn't mean I had to be a bad person. That was a choice I could make, sure, but this world's government was corrupt enough that being genuinely evil wasn't even a requirement to become a great criminal. Rough up some rotten marines or nobles, and done—I'd have myself a perfectly respectable head price. Take it a step further and pick a fight with the Celestial Dragons, and I could raise it without a shred of guilt, by leaps and bounds at that.
I'd probably have to do some questionable things here and there out of necessity, but for the most part, my war was going to be with the World Government. That was enough to keep me busy.
Anyway. Where was I?
Right. Since I didn't actually have to become a villain, there was no reason to just let the girl die. Especially not in such an anticlimactic way.
'Don't laugh, don't laugh.'
The timing wasn't a concern. The date was clear enough that I didn't have to worry about being caught off guard. The event happened after their 2001st duel, and we were currently somewhere in the 1100's, which gave me roughly a year to prepare.
When the day came, all I had to do was pay attention.
Simple enough.
Until then—grind. Build the foundation for my swordsmanship and the backbone that was gonna let me soar these seas without fear, while slowly brewing plans of action for when my criminal career finally kicks off.
I had a few ideas already forming in the back of my mind, but without the strength to back them up, they were just daydreams.
So, first things first: Get stronger.
With that settled firmly in my head, I swung harder than before, feeling something sharpen in my chest with every bead of sweat that rolled down my temple.
This world shall know Hax.
...
°
°
°
| 3rd Person POV: |
...
'The morale seems high today,' Koushirou thought, his gaze moving steadily across the class as they moved in unison to the rhythm of their fighting cry.
He gave a quiet, satisfied nod. The kids had a tendency to slack without realizing it—swinging robotically, with motion emptied of intent, waiting for results to arrive on their own.
And to be fair to them, results would come regardless. Even if they possessed an utter lack of talent in the more insightful part of swordsmanship; through their current repetitive training, the motions would be refined with time, and the muscles being applied would develop alongside them.
But to truly improve, they needed more than that. They had to understand the motion they were performing, seek to refine it, and adapt until they finally reached something worth calling mastery. The difference in growth between mindless repetition and intentional practice was staggering.
He had told them as much, more times than he could count. But he also understood the reality of it. This was an endlessly monotonous task, and unless a child was consumed by it the way Zoro or Kuina were, finding genuine joy in swinging a sword up and down over and over again was a near impossibility.
Most of them were here because their parents had sent them, or because the village expected it. In their minds, this was just one more thing standing between them and the rest of their day.
He let out a quiet breath through his nose—not in disdain, but in the mild helplessness of a man who had made peace with human nature long ago.
At least, that was where his thoughts had settled—until something at the edge of his vision made his eyebrows lift.
'That's... Dan,' Koushirou thought, taking a moment to place the name. The boy was still relatively new to the dojo, having joined only a month prior.
His eyes, already narrow, narrowed a fraction further as he watched the boy's form.
Something was different. He couldn't immediately name it.
The technique itself was the same—appropriate for someone still settling into the foundational stage, whose body hadn't yet fully developed the build for swordsmanship. Nothing obviously wrong.
But something...
'Is that...?'
The clarity came a moment later, his eyebrows lifting slightly as it clicked into place.
The skill level was roughly unchanged. But the disposition behind it wasn't. For anyone else watching the class, it likely wouldn't register—but Koushirou had been teaching for long enough that reading the difference between a dozen kids at once had become second nature to him.
Dan was learning faster.
He couldn't say exactly how. But he could sense it. The boy was picking up on small, almost imperceptible adjustments to his technique—smoothing out the arc, taking just a little more weight off the wrong joints—and integrating them in real time. Sometimes he slipped back into his old habits, which was entirely normal when someone didn't yet know what they were reaching for. But the direction of movement was unmistakably there.
Slow, yes. But swordsmanship was slow by nature. Forging a swordsman was no different from forging a sword—a process of constant and gradual refinement.
Even so, for that slowness... Dan was moving through it quickly.
If he kept at this pace, Koushirou wouldn't be surprised if he caught up to the rest of his peers within a month or so. Not merely because of the speed of improvement, but because of something else Koushirou had noticed in the boy's expression.
Focus. Real, deliberate focus.
Not obsession like in Zoro or Kuina's case, but something quieter and more grounded. Dan wasn't doing this out of boredom or obligation.
He was training with purpose.
He was seeking to learn.
'A curious sight.' He mused, hand massaging his chin in interest.
With the right guidance, it was hard to say how far that kind of focus might take him. Perhaps not to the heights Zoro and Kuina were reaching for—but a very capable swordsman, certainly. Especially now, while his foundation was still being laid.
'Still, I'm the teacher of everyone. I can't stop the lesson because one student needs extra attention,' Koushirou reminded himself, and turned his attention back to the class as a whole.
He watched them for a while longer—making small corrections here and there, his voice carrying evenly across the dojo—until he found his gaze drifting back to Dan again, drawn in despite himself.
He lasted about three more minutes before he gave in.
"Dan."
The boy's sword slowed, and he turned, his expression that of someone worried they might have done something wrong.
He wasn't wrong to look like that. Which was exactly why Koushirou had spoken up.
"Straighten your posture and let your shoulders rotate smoothly through the motion. Even out your breathing as well."
"Ah... yes, sensei," Dan gave a short nod, then turned back and adjusted his stance—a little clumsily at first, working through the corrections with slow but steady progress.
A few snickers passed through the nearby students at the sight of him being corrected on something as basic as a straightforward swing. Koushirou's gaze moved briefly over them, and the sounds stopped.
He returned his attention to Dan.
The improvement was immediate. Not perfect—it never was on the first try—but the motion was measurably cleaner, and it was already refining itself further with each repetition.
Koushirou found himself thinking of Zoro and Kuina.
Zoro, who had never needed much instruction and who simply threw himself at the task with relentless fury until his body worked out the answers on its own.
Kuina, who had learned most of what she knew by watching adults fight long before she was old enough to do so herself—absorbing the skill and refining it like a dry sponge thirsty for more knowledge.
Between the two of them, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to actually teach a talented student. To give a correction to a listening pupil and see it take hold in real time.
'Interesting.'
...
────────────────────────
-To Be Continued...-
────────────────────────
(A/N: Here we see the effects of the SpeedyGains hack. It might not be perceptible at first, but it does make a huge difference in the long term.)