The adrenaline crash was insane. 427 went from jittery and wired to feeling like he would sell his soul for a memory foam pillow and a burger.
He went to rub his face, then paused as he looked at the gauntlets on his hands. The blood dripped off of it, with chunks of flesh and gristle stuck on the fingertips.
Think I'll pass on the burger now.
He pulled them off gingerly, and wiped them down with some cloth in his bag. His forearms underneath were already purpling.
I should really learn emergency first aid.
With the urgent stuff handled, it was time for the best part of the raid: the loot!
First stop, mysterious swordsman's body.
427 had an inkling about who he was, but wanted confirmation.
Walking over to the corpse, he took off the jacket and started rifling through the pockets. A few thousand berries, but nothing insane. Searching the pockets of the pants also yielded nothing.
There weren't any hidden pockets, so he searched for the next best thing: the shoes.
Pulling them off, 427 lifted the insole - How the hell does the One Piece world have orthopedics? - and found a booklet. Searching the other shoe, but finding nothing, he turned his attention back to it.
The cover was unmarked, but upon opening it, 427 was sure it was the best thing he was going to find in this town. A printed guide with Fish-Man karate moves on it.
A quick flip through listed three moves: Samegawara Seiken, a punch that creates an internal shockwave; Gedan-geri, a flurry of rapid low kicks; and Samehada Shotei, a palm block.
The manual was clearly meant for beginners. It was extremely simple, only barely touching on the "supernatural" aspects of the moves.
If this was all this dude had to work with, he was a genius for being able to send that shockwave through the air.
It was like watching a YouTube tutorial on how to do a layup and landing a dunk instead. Absent-mindedly flipping through the pages, his eyes widened on the last section.
Nagashi Uke, a block that flows like water to redirect the opponent's punch. It was exactly what he needed to try forming his Flowing Water: Crushing Rock.
Was he qualified to create a martial art? Not even close. But he had to start somewhere.
Was Luffy qualified to declare he'd be Pirate King at age six?
With the background he had? Yeah, probably.
Bad example.
Regardless, the pamphlet was clearly mass-produced for beginners. Given the rebellion they were quelling, there was only one group that fit the bill: the Revolutionary Army.
Their fight was going to get a hell of a lot harder.
The rest of the house yielded nothing. The sword itself was cheap and mass produced. He almost regretted searching the body first.
Should've saved the best for last.
Stepping out into the midday sun, he looked around at the town. A whole group of houses, stores, and supplies, all ripe for the taking.
He shaded his eyes with his arm, and looked up at the sky.
Is it okay to take more from these people?
With a groaning creak, a house nearby collapsed into splinters. Behind it, the swath of buildings destroyed by the explosion was in view. 427's eyes twitched.
Well, it's not like I can make things worse.
It wasn't like the town was super large, so clearing the houses took less time than 427 expected. He got almost nothing. Just around 5,000 berries. The residents had fled at the start of the war, so all that was really left were the things too big to take.
He had thought that the manual would be the best find.
He was wrong.
In one house's pantry, he found it.
The Holy Grail.
Jerky.
A tear came to his eye. After a week of nutrient-optimized slurry, this bone-dry, slightly moldy jerky was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
He spotted 341 and his teammate searching the other side of the town. They were going in order, from the outskirts to deeper in.
Muehehehe… While they're busy with the houses, I'll hit the stores!
Wearing a devious smirk - one 341 would definitely call stupid - he strolled into the first store. A blacksmith, from the looks of it.
427 was interested in finding wearable training weights. He doubted he'd get anything, but why not give it a look?
Other than the steel billets and ingots, there was nothing. Most of the weaponry had been commandeered by the rebels. But up front, something caught his eye.
A few suits of armor had been left behind - plate armor style.
Probably too heavy to carry, and no chance they beat the mass produced raid suit. Even if it did, how would I wear it?
Picture it: all the clones in formation. Judge standing up front, mid-speech. He glances left, and there's one guy in full plate armor.
Yeah, instant execution.
Still, there was one thing worth grabbing. One of the helmets had a detachable mask, almost like a modern ballistic faceplate
Don't mind if I do!
It looked too cool to pass up. Slipping it into his bag, he wandered leisurely over to the general store, as if he weren't an invading soldier.
He hesitated to describe it as such, but "picked clean" but "picked clean" wasn't exactly wrong. There were a few barrels in the back, but all the actual food had either been eaten by the rebels, or spoiled and thrown out.
Cracking open the barrels, he found mostly pickled foods. He wasn't opposed to them, but he couldn't exactly carry around dripping vinegar, could he?
Finally, on the last one, he found his new Holy Grail: A full barrel of jerky. Tough, and probably didn't taste great, but good for building muscle, and easy to carry.
Grabbing wax paper from the front desk, he wrapped up the pieces into small, separate bundles, putting them in his bag.
He walked outside, and saw his teammate - not 341 - trying to grab a whole row of steel billets.
Good luck with that.
After another thirty minutes or so, they had finished their part of the looting. 341 walked over to him.
"Did you get anything of note?" he asked.
"Just some jerky. Need more protein to build muscle and all that." 427 responded tiredly. He had no clue why 341 was unaffected by the adrenaline crash, but it was personally beating his ass like a drum.
Got the drums of liberation going off in my goddamn head.
Standing up, the three of them - Almost forgot about that guy - walked out of the town, heading back to the royal capital.
As they got closer and closer, they saw other groups of clones also returning from their missions. 427 distinctly remembered that most of the groups had four to five people, yet only three to two returned.
Is this their way of weeding out the defects? It did get rid of Kaido-lite for us.
Climbing up the ladder to their snail, they finally reported in. In the middle of the questions, their interviewer asked one that piqued 427's attention:
"Did you run into anyone martially trained? Perhaps with moves that caused internal damage?"
341 looked at his teammates for confirmation, and then shook his head no.
"Interesting…" the drill sergeant muttered. He flipped through his notes.
"Perhaps they perished in the explosion?" He closed his notes, and exhaled heavily through the nose, looking at each of them.
"You're good to go. The next mass deployment is in two days." With a wave of his hand, the three of them left the tent.
427 looked at his squad, and said:
"I'm gonna go sleep." He didn't wait for a response, and started staggering back to his tent. He paused, and looked at his gauntlets. They still covered his bruised arms.
Goddamn it.
Walking to the doctor to get treated, he then stumbled back to his tent.
Dropping his bag in his chest, he flopped onto the bed and passed out immediately.
He woke up at his usual time, four.
The asscrack of dawn… God, why do I do this to myself?
With two days before deployment, he decided to train for at least one of them.
There was a very serious dilemma he was facing this morning:
Do I still eat the nutrient slurry, now that I have jerky?
He decided against it, because he could refill on jerky with another deployment. Might as well make the most of it now.
Totally not because I don't want to taste the slop again. Definitely not.
Grabbing a few wax packets, he ate leisurely on his way to the training field.
At the training field, he started with weights. Forearm, upper body, and back were among those he hit.
No need to have splits when your whole body recovers immediately.
But on the bench, he noticed something strange.
I'm lifting… more?
It seemed life or death fights really were catalysts for physical growth in this world. He couldn't make heads or tails of it.
Maybe it's like internal limiters, and they get worn away through stress or adrenaline?
Shrugging it off, he just accepted that he needed to get in a hell of a lot more brawls. These gains were addictive.
After weights, came speed. This was where the real breakthrough was. Previously, he had run thirty meters in two and a half seconds. Now? He was hitting two and a quarter.
It didn't sound insane - especially for the One Piece world's physical level - but for the stage he was at? That was a damn solid improvement.
During his claw training, the strikes came easier too. Moves that were disjointed and mechanical slowly started flowing better.
He chained stabs into slashes, and vice versa.
Damn, I feel awesome right now.
After a half day of training and jerky, he headed down to the royal capital. Not only did he want to spend his berries somewhere, but he wanted to try fish-man karate without being watched by twenty different cameras.
He set up in a quiet plaza on the city's edge and pulled out the manual. In the center was a gnarled tree, making the perfect target. Flipping through the book, he stopped on the two attacking moves: Samegawara Seiken, and Gedan-geri.
He really wanted to practice the defensive moves, but he couldn't really practice that without a partner, could he?
So, the next best thing: learn what he could. He wasn't sure if humans could control water like fishmen, but he'd try.
He squared up for a long few hours of kicking and punching. By the end of it, his bones were aching, and probably a little cracked.
He absentmindedly bandaged his arms and legs, munching on some jerky.
Incredible! Being one with the water in the atmosphere!
He was bullshitting. He felt nothing.
Honestly, other than the water control itself, he didn't understand how it was any different from sending shockwaves with powerful enough punches. Wouldn't Shigan's air pistol be the same thing?
But that's way above my paygrade.
Done wrapping his arms, he wandered into town to shop.
He was heavily disappointed.
Story of my life.
There was nothing really worth buying. Most of the stalls were empty anyways.
Probably hiding at home.
Not that he could blame them.
Then, rounding a corner by the docks, he saw it: Sea King meat.
Holy shit! What are the chances?
It clearly wasn't from a very big one, but anything that nutritious was worth a purchase. He bought enough to make a sandwich.
Heading back to the snail, he scarfed it down.
Holy shit.
The taste was incredible. It dissolved on his tongue with the perfect level of natural saltiness and fat. The sensation of warmth flowed through his body when he swallowed, soothing his bruises and cracks.
I can literally FEEL myself heal.
It was decided. This was going to be what he blew all his money on.
Reaching his snail, he turned in for the night.