Three days after setting sail, Kyle was still hung up on his wanted poster.
He was carefully polishing that crude naginata with a piece of deerskin, muttering under his breath: "One million five hundred thousand... one million five hundred thousand... I'm worth less than some nearby Sea King. Do those Navy guys think my 'Exploding Phoenix Cry' was rented special effects? No aesthetic sense whatsoever, blind as bats!"
"Still bothered by that?" Rayleigh's voice came from nearby. He was leaning against the mast with a book in hand, though his attention clearly wasn't on the pages.
"I'm not!" Kyle reflexively protested, then deflated. "I just think... my bounty seriously doesn't match my handsomeness."
"Gu ha ha ha! So what do you think would be worthy of you?" Roger approached, carrying a massive fishbone, clearly having just finished today's breakfast.
Kyle puffed out his chest and held up three fingers: "Starting price—thirty million berries!"
Roger and Rayleigh exchanged glances, then burst into laughter simultaneously. Roger's laughter was bold and unrestrained, while Rayleigh's carried a hint of helplessness and amusement.
"Kid's got big ambitions." Rayleigh closed his book, adjusted his glasses, and his expression grew more serious. "However, bounties are just the World Government's assessment of your threat level—they don't completely represent your actual strength. That strike of yours was certainly flashy and powerful enough to intimidate ordinary pirates."
His tone shifted, becoming sharp.
"But if your opponent is a true powerhouse, you might be down before you even swing that blade. In fact, that shock wave you're so proud of might not even be able to touch certain forces."
Kyle stopped polishing his naginata and frowned: "Certain forces?"
"Haki."
Rayleigh spoke these two words, and the air on deck seemed to grow heavy.
"All humans possess this power dormant within them—'presence,' 'fighting spirit,' 'intimidation'... It's innate, but most people never notice it or can't draw it out. Haki is roughly divided into two types... no, actually three types."
He held up one finger: "One type is 'Observation Haki'—the power to strongly sense the presence of others around you. It can detect enemies outside your field of vision and predict an opponent's next move. Actually, during your previous 'Bombardment of Love' training, you unconsciously touched its threshold."
Kyle's heart skipped as he recalled what Rayleigh had mentioned about his later inexplicable evasive maneuvers.
Rayleigh raised a second finger: "The other type is 'Armament Haki'—what Roger demonstrated a few days ago. It enhances personal defense and attack power, like wearing invisible armor. More importantly, it's the most effective means of countering Devil Fruit users. Whether you're Logia or Paramecia, against powerful Armament Haki, that ability advantage you're so proud of will cease to exist."
Kyle's pupils contracted slightly. He knew from his past life how important Haki was, but hearing it directly from the future "Dark King" Rayleigh carried a completely different sense of pressure.
All you can say is that Oda's a real piece of work, introducing the Haki system with an almost "Haki trumps everything" trend, causing many early characters to suffer from appearing before the concept existed.
"As for the third type..." Rayleigh paused, glancing at the grinning simpleton Roger beside him. "That's 'Conqueror's Haki'—one person in a million is born with this kingly disposition. It can't be learned, only awakened naturally. So don't worry about that for now."
"Gu ha ha ha! Did you get all that, little Kyle!" Roger tossed the fishbone into the sea and strode over to Kyle, hands on his hips, casting a mountain-like shadow. "Want to add another zero to your bounty? Then first learn how to take a beating!"
Before Kyle could react, Roger's large hand had already grabbed a black cloth strip from who knows where.
"Here, put this on first."
"What's this for?" Kyle looked at the sweat-reeking cloth strip with disgust.
"Training your Observation Haki!" Roger said matter-of-factly, tying the strip over Kyle's eyes without argument. "Since your eyes and ears will deceive you, might as well not use them at all! Use your 'heart' to see and hear!"
His vision instantly plunged into darkness, and Kyle immediately lost his sense of security.
"Hey, hey, hey, damn captain, don't mess around!"
"Gu ha ha ha! Rayleigh, ready?"
"Anytime."
The next second, Kyle's sixth sense screamed danger! He could "feel" something approaching from both left and right at high speed with whooshing sounds!
Sneak attack! (Master Donnie's voice)
Without thinking, he threw himself backward in an iron bridge pose!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
A piece of broken wood and a wine bottle nearly grazed his nose as they flew past.
"Oh?" Rayleigh's voice carried a hint of surprise.
"Not bad!" Roger's tone was full of excitement. "Let's increase the dosage!"
Kyle had just straightened up and hadn't caught his breath when the sound of breaking air came from all directions like a torrential downpour!
"Hey! Hey! No fair play!"
He could only rely on that vague sense of crisis to dodge desperately around the deck.
BANG!
His back took a solid hit like being struck by an iron hammer—a ship anchor part thrown by Roger.
THUD!
His forehead was precisely struck, a round object bouncing off—an apple thrown by Rayleigh.
"Damn it! Are you trying to kill me?!" Kyle wailed, clutching his head.
"Gu ha ha ha! If you die from this level, how can you be my crewmate!" Roger's laughter was full of malice.
"Focus, Kyle." Rayleigh's voice was as calm as an observer's. "Don't use your ears to trace the source of sounds, don't use your skin to feel changes in air currents, and absolutely no Devil Fruit abilities. You need to 'capture' their 'intent' to attack you! That aura can't be hidden."
Intent? Aura?
Kyle gritted his teeth in the darkness, forcing himself to calm down.
He abandoned all unnecessary movements, standing like a wooden post, immersing his entire consciousness in the surrounding environment.
Wind sounds, wave sounds, Roger's breathing, the soft rustle of Rayleigh turning pages... none of these were right.
What he was looking for was that "killing intent" with clear directionality.
There it is!
Right rear!
Kyle suddenly stepped left and forward!
A wooden plank crashed where he'd just been standing with a whoosh, breaking into pieces.
"Very good." Rayleigh's voice rang out again.
Kyle's heart leaped with joy, but he didn't dare relax. He could feel more "killing intent" lighting up from all directions like stars in the night—clear and deadly.
Left side, two!
Front, three!
Overhead, one more!
Kyle took a deep breath, his body contorting in ways incomprehensible to ordinary people. Like aquatic plants swaying in rapids, he avoided all attacks with minimal movement and extreme angles.
When the last orange grazed his ear and hit the deck with a soft "plop," the attacks stopped.
Kyle was panting and drenched in sweat, but he grinned broadly.
He pulled off the blindfold, looking at the mess all over and Roger and Rayleigh standing not far away—one holding a wine barrel, the other a book—his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Again!"
This feeling was too wonderful.
Observation Haki training continued all morning until Kyle was exhausted like a dead dog, unable to even stand.
In the afternoon, just when Kyle thought he could rest, Armament Haki "lessons" began.
"Armament Haki, simply put, is materializing your 'fighting spirit' to cover your body or weapons." Rayleigh remained the theory instructor. "It comes from your powerful spirit and body, mobilized and concentrated through will. Imagine your body is a sword, and Haki is the invisible scabbard—protecting the blade while making strikes sharper."
"Why all the talk!" Roger cracked his knuckles with crisp sounds, impatiently interrupting. "Practice is the only standard for testing truth! Come on, little Kyle, punch me right here!"
He patted his arm, covered in pitch-black Armament Haki.
Kyle looked at that arm harder than steel, his mouth twitching: "That would break my hand."
"Gu ha ha ha! Then I'll go first!" Roger grinned wickedly and threw a fierce punch!
Kyle was shocked, instinctively raising his practice naginata horizontally to block.
"CLANG—!"
A tremendous crash!
Kyle felt an irresistible force transmit through the blade. His entire body flew back over ten meters like being hit head-on by a battering ram, smashing the cabin door to pieces.
"Pft—" Blood filled his mouth as he spat, the webbing between his thumbs and index fingers torn and bleeding from gripping the naginata too tightly.
The previously sturdy naginata now had an obvious crack along its handle.
"Feel that?" Roger lowered his fist, standing in place with a grin. "Your shock wave can smash ships, but against my fist, it can't even make me step back."
"Are you trying to kill me, damn it?" Kyle struggled up from the wreckage, spitting bloody foam, yet his eyes were unusually bright: "Again!"
"That's the spirit!"
For the next hour, the deck witnessed continuous one-sided beatings.
Roger wasn't using full force, but each punch perfectly let Kyle feel that piercing pain of Haki penetrating defenses to strike directly.
"Armament Haki is more often used on weapons!" Rayleigh, beside them, had somehow drawn his sword, instantly covering it with Armament Haki.
He made no unnecessary movements, just thrust forward with a plain, unremarkable strike.
This sword wasn't fast, but Kyle felt every hair on his body stand up.
That was a sharpness that could cut through anything!
Kyle's pupils contracted sharply. It was too late to dodge. He poured all his spirit and will into the naginata in his hands, copying Rayleigh's example, trying to imagine and condense that invisible armor!
"Harden—!"
He roared, driving his naginata against Rayleigh's sword tip.
"DING—!"
A sharp, ringing clash of steel burst out.
Sparks flew.
Kyle's naginata... didn't break.
Though the blade gained several more cracks, it had definitely blocked Rayleigh's strike.
Kyle was stunned. He looked down at his naginata, then at Rayleigh's calm expression.
"In that instant just now," Rayleigh sheathed his sword and spoke slowly, "you succeeded. Though very weak, your will did cover your weapon."
Kyle felt the still-humming blade and that strange sensation in his arm—as if he'd become one with the weapon—his heart pounding uncontrollably.
"This... is Armament Haki?"
"Gu ha ha ha! Beautifully done, Kyle!" Roger's large hand heavily patted his back, nearly making him spit blood again.
Kyle staggered but grinned, showing a smile uglier than crying.
At this moment, he ached all over, his bones feeling completely shattered, but an unprecedented sense of satisfaction and excitement surged from the depths of his heart.