The Going Merry sailed steadily across the calm sea, sunlight glinting off its freshly polished deck. The air was crisp with salt, and the gulls above cried lazily as if they, too, were enjoying the journey. It had been a few days since Syrup Village, and the Straw Hat crew had begun settling into a rhythm. Each member had found their place—yet none were content to remain the same.
They were pirates, yes, but they were also warriors. And warriors trained.
Usopp's Focus Returns
On the main deck, Usopp stood confidently, legs braced wide, slingshot raised. A makeshift dummy stood across from him—two barrels stacked together, with a cloth face drawn with charcoal.
"Sniper King, Mark I... FIRE!"
The small metal pellet whistled through the air and struck the dummy square in the eye.
"Bullseye!" Usopp shouted, twirling his slingshot and grinning wide. "I still got it!"
From the crow's nest above, Vihaan leaned over with a smirk. "You never lost it. You just forgot to aim with your heart."
Usopp laughed. "That sounds like something a fortune cookie would say!"
"Still true," Vihaan said before leaping gracefully down from the mast.
He landed barefoot, his body shimmering in the sunlight. His shirt had long been abandoned to the training wind, and now his torso gleamed with sweat and strength. His abs were cut like stone, sharply defined from weeks of intense core work. His arms rippled with lean muscle, and his back had the symmetry of a swordsman sculpted by effort—not luck.
Vihaan had changed.
Training Beneath the Skin
Each morning, Vihaan pushed himself to the brink. Weighted body drills, mirror reaction speed tests, and seawater resistance training filled every hour. He had made a barrel filled with seawater solely to dip his hands in and practice moving his fingers.
It hurt—at first. But slowly, the stinging sensation dulled. Then faded. He'd read in the Haki book that resistance to seawater was theoretically possible with precise training of the will and body's adaptability.
And now, Vihaan could flick his wrist through a shallow bowl of seawater and still summon a thin sheet of reflective glass midair. The Mirror-Mirror Fruit was obeying him faster, more naturally.
And he wasn't done yet.
Below Deck: Luffy and Zoro's Evolution
In the galley, furniture was already sacrificed to the chaos of Luffy and Zoro's sparring match.
"Gomu Gomu no... Neck Pivot!"
Luffy shot forward, his neck stretched and twisted to the left, giving him an overhead view mid-charge. From that angle, he saw Zoro's foot shift—a micro-movement.
"Your left leg shifts before you cut sideways!"
Zoro's eyes narrowed. "Shut up."
"You telegraph your move!" Luffy yelled mid-air.
Zoro deflected with two swords, while the third still clenched between his teeth moved with surprising grace.
Then, shockingly, Zoro replied—with actual words:
"Not... anymore."
He was learning how to talk clearly while holding the blade in his mouth.
Vihaan peeked in from the hallway. "Are you two rebuilding or destroying the ship?"
"Training," Luffy beamed.
"I'm finally learning to watch from multiple angles during battle!" he said proudly. "Stretching my neck lets me spot weak points!"
Vihaan smiled. "Tactical rubber. I like it."
Zoro stood tall, his sweat gleaming. "My breathing's smoother now. Even with the third sword."
"You're finally sounding less like a garbled cabbage," Nami commented as she walked past with a rolled map.
Zoro glared but said nothing.