After a while, Andrew kept going on about the wild plot twists in One Piece.
"So then my friend told me, after Kaido beat Luffy, he awakened his Devil Fruit! But it wasn't just the Gum-Gum Fruit—it's actually the Human-Human Fruit, Mythical Zoan type: Nika Form! Some kind of ancient 'rubber spirit' from the island country, apparently with fire and thunder powers, like the Sun God or something."
"The author really hid that plot twist well. I never saw it coming."
He rambled on, talking about all the hidden foreshadowing. Brandon, meanwhile, just looked increasingly confused.
What is he talking about? Nika Form? Wasn't it supposed to be rubber? Now it's the Human-Human Fruit?
When did that happen? He hadn't kept up with One Piece in a long time, so maybe that was on him.
But the fruit wasn't just rubber, huh…
Brandon was never a diehard One Piece fan—he just vaguely remembered something about Luffy using fire and lightning attacks, but never paid it much mind. Turns out it was a setup all along.
He shook his head, but quickly lost interest. Rubber, Nika, whatever—it didn't really matter to him. At best, it'd make for a good chat group topic.
Maybe Whitebeard would know more.
"Compared to me, shouldn't you be more concerned about those two?" Brandon interrupted, nodding toward the pair still lying unconscious nearby.
He'd checked before: their injuries weren't serious. They'd just hit their heads when they fell and passed out. Honestly, they were pretty lucky.
Andrew jumped up, running over in a panic. "Hey! Hey! Spirit Energy Bureau, we've got two people here who were attacked by a mutant beast and knocked out!"
Brandon, meanwhile, already had his phone out, dialing the Bureau.
"They're only lightly injured, no real danger. Their bodies are already absorbing spiritual energy from the air. Even if you guys didn't come, they'd probably wake up in an hour or two."
"I'll send you the location."
Whenever there were mutated creatures involved, the Bureau was always on call. Besides, their healers worked much faster than any hospital.
Why didn't Brandon just heal them himself? If it was life or death, sure—but for mild bumps and scrapes, it was better to let them recover on their own. A good reminder to be more careful next time.
"So, what were you guys doing out here?" he asked, once he hung up. "Curiosity? Exploring? Treasure hunting?"
Andrew relaxed, realizing things weren't so dire, and hesitated before answering.
"Uh… grinding levels."
"...What?"
Was this guy treating real life like a video game?
He looked at Andrew like he'd grown a second head. "You think you get experience for killing monsters?"
Andrew flushed. "Well… mutant animal meat helps you train faster, plus you can sell it for good money. Their hides make decent armor, their bones are great for forging weapons, and extra meat fetches a high price. So, we usually call it 'leveling up.'"
"The government says it's too dangerous, but I don't know if you realize just how valuable these things are. We can't help ourselves."
Brandon just stared at him.
Maybe he really had lost touch with the world after spending so much time in the chat group, barely watching the news or any short videos online.
So, mutant beast meat was XP, hides and bones were for crafting, and selling extra meat was "gold drops." Level grinding, indeed!
He had to laugh—now that's what you call grinding for levels.
"Are there a lot of people like you guys?" he asked, still a bit bemused.
"At first, there were a ton. But as more and more people died, it dropped off. Mutant beasts are just too strong. Unless you're one of the gifted ones, it takes a whole team to take one down—and even then, you'll probably get hurt."
"I know I don't look like much, but I've got legit rubber powers—stretching and all. I thought I'd be like Luffy, but he's apparently the Sun God Nika now, and just being rubber doesn't cut it."
Andrew even demonstrated—he could stretch his arms a bit, but nothing like Luffy's earliest days.
"My two friends over there—one's got fire powers, the other can use lightning. Together, we're basically half a Luffy," he joked. "But that python? Total fluke. We've barely managed to take out wild boars before."
Brandon nodded, then seemed to sense something and glanced down the mountain.
"The Bureau's almost here. Just hang tight for a few minutes—I need to head out."
He didn't wait for Andrew to respond, disappearing before his eyes and heading deeper into the mountains.
He'd mostly stuck around to make sure nothing else came after the trio before help arrived.
With the Bureau team on the way, there was nothing left to worry about.
"Giant mutant python—check. Next up: mutant wild boar."
"Hopefully they're nice and big. If not, I'll just hunt more. And I should find a few mutant rabbits, too… I wonder if spicy rabbit head made with mutant rabbit is even tastier?"
He licked his lips at the thought. His personal chef team even included a Sichuan specialist—their spicy cuisine was next level.
That night, Brandon looked over his storage ring, now packed with loot, and smiled in satisfaction.
The mountains were already pitch-black, broken only by the occasional movement of leaves in the wind.
But Brandon wasn't the least bit afraid.
If anything, he almost hoped another edible beast would show itself.
"I've been out long enough for today. Tomorrow's another day to hunt," he muttered, looking down at the glowing town lights below.
For a moment, his eyes glimmered with a blood-red symbol. Then the rune in his left eye began to spin rapidly.
"My word is divine. My decree, divine command."
"I declare: let there be a door connecting this spot to my home."
His voice was utterly calm, almost mechanical.
In the next instant, space rippled like water, and a "magic door" straight out of Doraemon appeared before him.
On the other side: his own living room.
Brandon stepped through, and the doorway disappeared without a trace.
"All that dramatic language… and I end up conjuring a big pink door like something from a kid's cartoon," he laughed, sprawled out on his sofa.
He could've used other ways to get home—teleportation, traveling as pure light, whatever. Technically, the whole world was "his house," so traveling around was child's play.
But even he needed a sense of direction. He wasn't Superman or a celestial who could just soar home.