Me, Usopp, and his three subordinates—Piiman, Ninjin, and Tamanegi—who had introduced themselves with the kind of enthusiasm that made my soul recoil, walked up the mountain road.
Their names were literally Green Pepper, Carrot, and Onion. Either their parents had a twisted sense of humor, or this world had even less imagination than I'd originally thought.
'Probably both.'
"Usopp-sencho!" Piiman's voice cracked with the kind of excitement that made my soul wither just a little. "We're really going treasure hunting with a wizard!"
Wizard. Right. Because apparently my life had become so ridiculous that being mistaken for a magical practitioner was just Tuesday now.
If my past self could see me now—leading a group of children and a compulsive liar through dangerous terrain while pretending to have mystical powers—he'd probably laugh himself into a coma.
'Or maybe just die of embarrassment. Either seemed like a reasonable response.'
"Of course we are!" Usopp puffed out his chest in that way people do when they're trying to convince themselves as much as their audience. "Captain Usopp has led many expeditions through far more treacherous territories!"
The lie rolled off his tongue with the practiced ease of someone who'd elevated self-deception to an art form.
I had to admit, there was something almost admirable about his commitment to his delusions. Most people at least had the decency to feel ashamed when caught fabricating stories about their own competence.
Leaving all of this aside, I pulled out my compass and checked our destination. And other than the direction and the distance, my eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the strange thing on the compass that has been puzzling me lately.
Other than the compass disk and the distance counter, there are two things I always thought were just for decoration. One was the sundial atop the compass disk, the other was the star chart on the lid of the compass.
I always thought they were just for decoration, but I noticed something strange when I wanted to point at the Devil Fruit on this island. The sundial was dim at its tip, no matter how much I changed the sun's light direction, at the tip, it remained dim.
And it wasn't just a normal dim color, but it was like someone painted the tip with a black brush. When I saw it for the first time, I thought there was something stuck on it, but when I changed the target to something else, the dimness disappeared.
The twinkling on the star chart changed too, some stars became more pronounced and others turned dim. It was the first time I actually noticed this, and it baffled me for a bit.
'I know this should be some kind of ability that the Compass has, and this should be some kind of information it is trying to convey about the target, most likely.'
But for now, I don't understand it, and it will clearly need more testing.
For now, I should focus on what I need to do.
"Four kilometers in that direction," I said, pointing toward where the beach should extend.
Usopp's expression immediately shifted to that particular look of someone about to deliver news that would make everyone's day significantly worse.
"Ah, well... you see, the beach doesn't really go much further that way. It's mostly rocky terrain past that point."
"Yeah!" Tamanegi nodded with the enthusiasm of someone who clearly hadn't thought through the implications. "We'd have to take the rocky forest road to get there!"
'Perfect. Because what this expedition really needed was more opportunities for grievous bodily harm.'
"Are there dangerous beasts in the forest?" I asked because apparently, I hadn't learned to stop asking questions that might have answers I didn't want to hear.
'But with children involved, I don't want this to turn into another tragedy, so yeah, I need to ask!'
"Nah," Piiman said with the casual dismissal that only children could manage when discussing potentially lethal wildlife. "The terrain's too harsh for big animals to want to live there."
'Well, that was... something, I supposed.'
Though knowing my luck, we'd encounter the one animal stubborn enough to make the rocky wasteland its home just to spite travelers stupid enough to venture into its territory.
The walk proved to be every bit as pleasant as I'd anticipated, which was to say it felt like someone had designed it specifically to make human movement as difficult and painful as possible.
Natural rock formations jutted up from the ground at irregular intervals, creating a landscape that seemed to exist purely to make me question what my life had turned into.
For me, the climbing wasn't particularly challenging—Hamon made scaling vertical surfaces significantly easier than it had any right to be.
But watching Usopp and the three children struggle with each obstacle made it clear that I'd need to help if we were going to make any meaningful progress before nightfall.
When Piiman got stuck halfway up a particularly steep rock face, looking like he might cry from frustration, I used Hamon on the rope I exchanged for the sword, controlled it, and pulled him up using Hamon-glowing rope that moved like a serpent.
Not wasting time, I quickly did the same with the other children and Usopp, and the reaction was immediate and dramatic.
"Whoa! How did you do that?" Tamanegi exclaimed, staring at the glowing rope coiling itself around my arm with wide eyes.
"Your whole arm is glowing!" Piiman added, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Magic!" Ninjin declared with absolute certainty. "He's definitely a wizard!"
I opened my mouth to correct them, then closed it again. What was I supposed to say? "Actually, children, what you just witnessed was a breathing technique called Hamon that I learned from a breathing mask."? That would go over well.
Usopp, meanwhile, was staring at me with an expression somewhere between bewilderment and existential crisis. "Is... is magic actually real?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "I mean, I've told stories about magic before, but I never thought..."
His voice trailed off, and I could practically see his worldview crumbling in real time. It was a look I recognized from personal experience—the expression of someone whose understanding of reality had just been forcibly adjusted.
"How do you become a wizard?" Ninjin asked, scrambling up beside me with the agility of someone whose bones were apparently made of rubber.
"Can you teach us magic, too?" Piiman added hopefully.
"What does it feel like to use magic?" Tamanegi finished, completing their chorus of curiosity.
I stared at them for a moment, my brain struggling to process this situation.
Three seven-year-olds were looking at me with the kind of reverent expectation usually reserved for spiritual figures or really good ice cream vendors.
Meanwhile, their teenage leader was having what appeared to be a minor psychological breakdown in the background.
'This was fine. Everything was fine. I just needed to... handle this somehow.'
"Well," I said, keeping my expression perfectly deadpan, "there are really only two ways to become a wizard."
The children leaned forward eagerly, hanging on every word.
"Either you have to be born one," I continued, watching their faces, "or you have to stay without a girlfriend until you're thirty."
The effect was immediate and dramatic. All three children deflated like punctured balloons.
"Thirty?!" Piiman wailed. "That's so old!"
"We don't want to wait that long!" Ninjin protested, his voice filled with the kind of despair usually reserved for much more serious disappointments.
I nodded solemnly, as if I were sharing ancient wisdom instead of making up complete nonsense on the spot. "Yes, the path of the thirty-year-old virgin wizard is... difficult."
'Why was I like this? Why couldn't I just give them a normal answer instead of turning everything into some sort of bizarre joke that only I understood?'
"But how do we know if we're born wizards?" Tamanegi asked, hope returning to his voice.
The rational part of my brain—the part that had kept me from making too many catastrophic social mistakes back home—was screaming at me to stop talking.
But apparently, I'd left my sense of self-preservation back in my original dimension.
"Simple," I replied, maintaining my deadpan delivery. "If you're born a wizard, you'll receive a letter from a magical school when you turn twelve."
The transformation was immediate and dramatic. All three children perked up like flowers suddenly exposed to sunlight, their despair instantly replaced by renewed hope. It was actually somewhat impressive how quickly children could bounce between emotional extremes.
"A magical school?!" they chorused, their voices creating a harmony of excitement that probably violated several noise ordinances.
"Really?!" Piiman asked, practically vibrating with anticipation.
"What kind of letter?" Ninjin demanded, as if the specific details of fictional magical correspondence were crucial information.
"We're only seven!" Tamanegi announced, as if this were the most important piece of information in the conversation. "We still have time!"
They immediately began chattering excitedly about how many years they had left to wait, calculating and recalculating their chances of receiving their hypothetical Hogwarts letters.
Usopp, however, was having none of it. "That's complete nonsense!" he declared, his voice cracking slightly. "There's no such thing as magical schools! You're just making stuff up!"
"That's because you're already fifteen and never got a letter," Piiman shot back with the brutal honesty that only children possess. "You're just jealous because you missed your chance!"
"Yeah!" the other two chorused in agreement. "You're too old for wizard school!"
I watched this exchange with a mixture of amusement and horror. On one hand, there was something deeply satisfying about watching Usopp get undermined by his own self-proclaimed subordinates. On the other hand, I was the one who'd caused this mutiny with my ridiculous story.
"I'm not jealous!" Usopp protested, but his voice had taken on a slightly desperate edge. "I'm just trying to be the voice of reason here!"
"The voice of reason never gets to learn magic," Ninjin replied with the kind of logic that was simultaneously completely wrong and utterly convincing.
I had to turn away to hide what might have been a smile as I watched Usopp's face cycle through various stages of indignation and protest.
His own supposed subordinates had turned against him with nothing more than the promise of a nonexistent magical Hogwarts. There was something beautifully ironic about watching a compulsive liar get undone by someone else's fabrication.
While they continued their debate about the existence of magical institutions, I checked my compass again.
"We should keep moving," I said, because standing around arguing about fictional schools wasn't going to get us any closer to our destination.
The terrain gradually became less actively hostile as we continued our march through what I was generously calling a path.
Usopp was trying to maintain his dignity while clearly exhausted, and the three children had progressed from excited chatter to the kind of focused determination that suggested they were running on pure stubbornness.
"How much farther?" Piiman asked, his earlier enthusiasm tempered by the reality of extended physical exertion.
I consulted the compass. "We're getting close."
"Good," Usopp muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Because I'm starting to think this treasure better be worth all this hiking."
"All treasure is worth it!" Ninjin declared with the unwavering certainty that only came from having never actually found any treasure.
"Right, wizard-san?" Tamanegi asked, looking at me with the kind of trust that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.
"...We'll see," I replied, because making promises about treasure seemed like a good way to set myself up for disappointment.
"Just ahead," I announced, checking the distance reading. "A few hundred meters."
The children's fatigue evaporated instantly, replaced by renewed excitement at the prospect of actual treasure. Even Usopp straightened up, his earlier complaints forgotten in the face of approaching discovery.
As we rounded a cluster of large rocks, the terrain opened up into a small clearing—a relatively even area surrounded by tall stone formations that created natural barriers on all sides. It looked like nature's own amphitheater, if nature had particularly dramatic tastes in architecture.
"This is it?" Usopp asked, looking around with obvious confusion. "I don't see anything special about this place."
"It should be here," I confirmed, checking the compass one final time. The needle was pointing straight down now, which seemed pretty unambiguous.
I pulled out my small water bottle, pretending to examine it thoughtfully while actually preparing to use it as a makeshift Hamon detector.
The moment I began channeling Hamon through the bottle, my arm started glowing with that characteristic golden energy. The effect was immediate and impossible to ignore—three pairs of young eyes locked onto the display like they'd just witnessed the second coming.
"Whoa!" Piiman breathed.
"Is that a spell?!" Ninjin demanded, his voice pitched high with excitement.
"Your arm is glowing again!" Tamanegi announced, in case the rest of us had missed this rather obvious development.
Even Usopp was staring, his mouth hanging slightly open. "What... what is that supposed to be?"
I maintained my deadpan expression while my arm continued its light show. "I don't have a crystal ball, so I'm using this bottle instead."
The explanation was complete nonsense, of course, but it sounded mystical enough to satisfy my audience.
"A crystal ball!" the children chorused, their excitement reaching new heights.
"Wizard-san is using a magic detection spell!" Piiman explained to the others, as if they hadn't been standing right there watching.
"That's so much cooler than a crystal ball!" Ninjin declared.
"Way better!" Tamanegi agreed with the authority of someone who had clearly never seen an actual crystal ball.
Through my improvised detector, I could sense several large objects buried beneath the dirt in various locations around the clearing. The resonance patterns suggested they were substantial—definitely chest-sized, possibly larger.
"There," I said, pointing to a spot about ten feet away. "And there. There too." I indicated three more locations scattered around the clearing. "Multiple chests, buried under the ground."
"Chests?!" Usopp's skepticism was rapidly being overwhelmed by what I suspected was greed. "How many chests?"
"How big are they?" Piiman wanted to know.
"At least four," I replied, still analyzing the resonance patterns. "Three large ones, one smaller."
It has gone differently than I anticipated, but it was a nice development.
'The chests could make a decent cover for this. I don't even have to conjure anything valuable, or let's hope so.'
Now came the tricky part. I needed to produce digging tools without revealing my Stand's abilities.
Fortunately, the rope we'd been using for climbing was still coiled under my cloak, providing the perfect cover for what I was about to do.
Reaching under my cloak, I gave the rope to my Stand and exchanged it for a proper shovel.
To my observers, it would look like I was simply pulling equipment from under my cloak.
The moment I produced the shovel, their amazement reached what I was starting to think might be dangerous levels.
"Where did that come from?!" Usopp demanded, his voice cracking slightly.
"Magic shovel!" the children declared in unison, like some kind of supernatural Greek chorus.
"Do you have more shovels?" Ninjin asked with barely contained hope.
"Can you make more with magic?" Tamanegi was vibrating from the thought of holding a magically conjured item.
That was exactly what I'd been counting on. "...well, let's see…"
Moving to the first location indicated by my detector, I began to dig. The soil was way harder than I had expected, suggesting these chests had been buried for an extremely long time.
It made me wonder who buried these chests here anyway, and why he buried the Devil Fruit with it?
'Furthermore, will the Fruit still be usable after being buried there for this long?'
As I worked, I discreetly used my Stand to transform some of the dirt I was removing into additional shovels.
"Here," I said, tossing the newly created tools from under the cloak to my eager assistants. "These should help with the digging."
The children grabbed their shovels with the enthusiasm of archaeologists who'd just discovered King Tut's tomb was full of candy.
Even Usopp, despite his lingering skepticism about my magical abilities, couldn't resist the appeal of actual buried treasure.
"How do you just... make shovels appear out of nowhere?" he asked while starting to dig at his assigned location.
"…Well, you know what they say…a wizard never reveals his secrets, or something like that," I replied, which was both completely true and entirely unhelpful.
With five people digging simultaneously, the work progressed much faster than I'd anticipated.
The children attacked the task with the relentless energy that only came with youth and the promise of treasure, while Usopp brought the focused determination of someone who'd spent his entire life dreaming of real adventure instead of just talking about it.
As for me, I found the repetitive nature of digging oddly therapeutic.
There was something satisfying about the straightforward simplicity of the task—no social games, no hidden meanings, no need to decipher what people really meant when they said things. Just dig, remove dirt, repeat until you hit something solid.
"I hit something!" Piiman called out, his voice cracking with excitement.
"Me too!" Ninjin added from his location.
"Same here!" Tamanegi chimed in.
I'd struck something solid as well—the familiar resistance of wood against metal that suggested we'd found what we were looking for. "Looks like we found our treasure."
The next several minutes were a flurry of excited digging as we worked to fully uncover our prizes. Gradually, the shapes of three large chests and one smaller one emerged from the earth.
They were old but surprisingly well-preserved, their wood darkened with age but still structurally sound.
"Real treasure chests!" Piiman marveled, running his hands over the surface of the nearest one like he couldn't quite believe it was real.
"Just like in all the stories!" Ninjin added, his voice filled with wonder.
"Captain Usopp found actual treasure!" Tamanegi declared, apparently deciding to give credit where he felt it was due.
Usopp immediately puffed up with pride, his earlier skepticism about this entire expedition apparently forgotten in the face of tangible success. "Of course! Captain Usopp's treasure-hunting skills are renowned throughout the East Blue!"
I noticed he'd upgraded from "legendary" to "renowned throughout the East Blue" in the span of about thirty minutes.
'Impressive commitment to escalating his own mythology.'
The three larger chests were secured with old, rusted locks that looked like they'd been corroded by years of exposure to the earth.
The children and Usopp immediately set about trying to open them, using a combination of brute force and creative problem-solving that was both entertaining and mildly concerning to watch.
While they were distracted with their mechanical puzzles, I turned my attention to the smaller chest.
Unlike the others, this one appeared to have been much better protected from the elements. Its surface was old but much cleaner, and it looked like it was well sealed.
Using Hamon to vibrate the lock and break it more precisely, the chest opened without drawing attention to myself.
The lid lifted with a soft creak that was lost in the noise of the others struggling with their more stubborn containers.
Inside was a single fruit.
White, it was completely white as a cloud, with that distinctive, mysterious swirling pattern. Although it was clearly dried, like it had been under the sun for a long time.
'Is this why the compass sundial was dim? Well, anyway, it should still be usable, at least I hope…'
Without hesitation, I summoned my Stand and gave it the fruit and wished for the Barbossa Sword—like the one that had been stolen from me by those fishman pirates.
But nothing happened…
'What? Why…?'
I concentrated harder, focusing on the exact image of the Barbossa Sword—its design, its mystical properties, the way it had felt in my hands.
"…"
Still nothing.
'Is-Is it because of the fruit? No, wait! Could-Could it be…?'
Frowning, I tried a different approach.
I wished for the Compass I was currently carrying, thinking that might trigger some kind of response.
"…"
Again, nothing.
'Oh, No.'
A cold realization began to settle in my stomach like a lead weight.
I tried asking for the Senzu Beans this time.
"…"
The Stand remained completely unresponsive.
The theory that formed in my mind was both logical and deeply frustrating.
'Damn it!'
My Stand, it seemed, operated on some kind of rule system that prevented it from creating the same supernatural item twice.
It was the first time I had come to know this. I always had the mindset that as long as I collected more Devil Fruits, I could recover from that loss.
But looks like this is not true.
'Which meant the Barbossa Sword was gone forever unless I could physically retrieve it from the fishmen who'd stolen it.'
The thought made me angrier than I'd expected. The sword was not just very useful in this world, but also part of my progress.
'Fu*k!'
Losing it is like losing a piece of that progress, and adding its usefulness, which I can't recover from, it felt like I had digressed back to the moment before I entered Pearlag.
'Such a huge loss…!' Moreover, looking at the circumstances in which I lost it, it is clear that this could happen again.
'Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!... Wait! Calm down! Getting angry wouldn't solve my current problem!'
I needed to prevent that, and I need to stop that from happening again.
Getting a moment to calm myself down, I made a new order to the Box while wanting to test something.
'For now, give me a powerful magic sword,' I wished to my Stand, being deliberately vague about the specifics. 'Something that can't be stolen from me. Something that will always return when I call for it.'
I need to see if that was at least a possibility—
'Eh?'
This time, the Stand responded immediately.
From the open lid of my magical wooden Box, a bright silver hilt began to emerge.
I grasped it carefully and pulled, revealing the full length of what was clearly an exceptional weapon.
The sword was beautiful in a way that made my breath catch—pure silver construction, thin like a rapier but with a distinctive cross-shaped hilt that spoke of both elegance and functionality.
Ruby decorations adorned the guard and pommel, with two smaller stones flanking the sides of the guard, and the bigger one at the pommel caught the light and threw it back in brilliant red flashes.
But what really caught my attention was the inscription etched into the blade.
Godric Gryffindor
I blinked, reading the name again to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.
Godric Gryffindor. As in, one of the founders of Hogwarts from the Harry Potter series. My Stand had apparently decided to create some kind of replica of Gryffindor's magical sword.
As I read the name silently, something extraordinary happened.
The letters began to shift and change before my eyes, as if they were retyping themselves until they spelled out:
Hachiman Hikigaya
'Huh?'
While it was magical, it made me wonder why such a sword appeared out of all swords.
'I know I have been talking and thinking about Hogwarts just a few minutes ago…but…still…'
Also, as from I remember from the movies, this sword didn't have such an ability as magically returning to its owner.
'This is…Sigh…Well, there was a way to test that properly. If it didn't work, I will just replace it with something else.'
I gently placed the sword on the ground and took several steps back. Then, feeling more foolish than I had since arriving in this world, I extended my hand toward it and concentrated on calling it back to me.
I didn't have particularly high expectations. And I wanted to stop this farce before I made more of a clown of myself.
However, something happened.
The sword vanished in a flash of silver mist and materialized in my outstretched hand!
"What the hell," I muttered under my breath.
"WHOOOAAA!!!"
"OOOOHHHHH!!"
"AMAAAZING!!!"
The exclamation came from next to me, and I turned to see that Usopp and the three children had finally managed to open their treasure chests that were, surprisingly, FULL OF GOLD!!!
But they ignored this wonderful gold, and were now more captivated with the magical silver in my hand.
"Did you see that?!" Piiman shouted, pointing at me with a trembling finger like I'd just performed the miracle of loaves and fishes.
"The sword just teleported!" Ninjin announced, his voice pitched so high with excitement that I worried about his vocal cords.
"That was the coolest thing ever!" Tamanegi added, bouncing on his toes with enough energy to power a small generator.
Even Usopp was speechless, his mouth hanging open comically as his brain apparently tried to process what he'd just witnessed.
'Yeah, I feel you.'
"Magic sword!" the children chorused in unison, their voices carrying that particular tone of awe that suggested I'd just transcended their wildest expectations of what was possible.
But then Tamanegi said something that cut through my thoughts: "So you're not just a wizard—you're a swordsman too!"
'Hmm?'
And that's when it hit me.
The comment, innocent as it was, struck me like a physical blow to the chest.
These children saw me as some kind of mystical warrior—a wizard-swordsman who commanded magical forces and wielded enchanted weapons with casual expertise.
But the truth was so much more pathetic than their perception.
I wasn't a wizard. I wasn't a swordsman. I was just a high school student who'd been given powers he didn't understand, and had been recklessly improvising his way through increasingly dangerous situations while hoping no one would notice how utterly clueless he actually was.
The sword in my hand—this beautiful, clearly magical weapon that had just demonstrated abilities that defied rational explanation—might as well have been a decorative ornament for all the practical good it would do me.
'I had absolutely no idea how to use it properly.' Hell, I'd been carrying the Barbossa Sword around like it was some kind of magical baton, instead of learning actual swordsmanship.
Using it to just control ships and play rope tricks, rather than treating it like the artifact it was designed to be.
'And it wasn't just the sword, either.'
Hamon was supposedly an incredibly versatile and powerful ability, capable of far more than the simple climbing assistance and light shows I'd been using it for.
In the right hands, it could heal injuries, enhance physical capabilities to superhuman levels, and even affect the aging process.
'But I'd been treating it like a convenient tool rather than the profound power it actually was.'
Mantra could predict enemy movements, read intentions, and even detect location. Something that can make the mightiest of foes look helpless in front of you.
But in my hand, it was only useful to escape danger like an intuition that anyone can have with a bit of training, rather than the sophisticated sensory ability it was meant to be.
'And lastly…my Stand…the Magical Box.'
My Stand possessed reality-altering abilities that were frankly overpowered, capable of transforming matter, creating actual freaking GOLD, and fantastical Supernatural items.
'Literally, a miracle among miracles…'
And I—like an idiot—have been treating it like a convenient vending machine, rather than exploring the full extent of what it could accomplish.
I'd been given amazing abilities, powers that most people could only dream of possessing, and I'd been completely wasting them—even though I am the one who needs them the most—all because I was too focused on my single-minded goal of getting home to actually learn how to use them effectively.
The realization was both humbling and absolutely terrifying.
'Those fishman pirates who'd nearly killed me and stolen my sword? They weren't even named characters in the One Piece Manga.'
At least, I have never heard of this Gyaro guy, but he and the rest were Arlong subordinates.
They were essentially background extras, the kind of enemies that main characters defeat without breaking a sweat, the kind that would only get a panel or two in the whole manga at best.
And that before fighting Arlong, who should be the equivalent of the last boss in the beginner's village.
'Essentially, the mobs of a mob character.'
And it was exactly these kinds of mobs who almost turned me into fish food. Even with all the overpowered cards in my hands.
'Because I'd been too arrogant and too ignorant to take this world seriously.'
I'd been treating this entire experience like some kind of elaborate field game, like I could just stumble through on luck and protagonist privilege until I found a convenient way home.
But this wasn't a game, and I definitely wasn't the protagonist of some power fantasy light novel. I was just a teenager who'd gotten in way over his head and desperately needed to start taking survival seriously if he wanted to live long enough to see his family again.
The sword felt heavier in my hand now, weighted with the understanding of my own fundamental inadequacy.
I had the tools to become genuinely strong, to become someone who could navigate this dangerous world.
'But tools were completely useless without the knowledge and skill necessary to use them properly.'
Which brought me to an uncomfortable but absolutely necessary conclusion:
If I wanted to survive long enough to get home, if I wanted to avoid becoming just another casualty of my own arrogance and ignorance, I needed to stop pretending I was already okay and start actually working to become strong.
And the first step in that process would be learning how to use this sword like an actual swordsman instead of waving it around like a magical wand.
'I needed to find someone who could teach me real swordsmanship.'
Proper technique, not the wild flailing with sharp objects that I'd been doing up until now.
I needed to understand Hamon beyond its most basic applications and see what I can actually do with it.
I needed to explore the full potential of my Mantra abilities and figure out how to use them effectively in combat situations.
And I needed to discover exactly what my Stand was truly capable of and how to employ its reality-altering powers strategically.
'Agg…'
The thought made me cringe internally because it sounded exactly like something straight out of a shonen manga—the pivotal moment where the protagonist realizes he needs to get stronger and commits to serious training and self-improvement.
It was the kind of idealistic, overly dramatic character development that I'd spent years mocking in my original world.
'But then again, I was literally living inside the world of a Shonen Manga now.'
When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
And in a world where personal strength was the ultimate currency that determined whether you lived or died, pretending to be above such concerns was just another form of dangerous self-delusion.
I looked down at the sword again, at my own name now inscribed on its silver blade, and made a decision that felt both inevitable and terrifying in its implications.
…
A/N: Only one chapter remained in this Arc. Whew, this is taking much longer than I had anticipated...
Well, Thank you all for reading! Hope you enjoyed this one!
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