Chapter 8: Dante — Iron Body!!!
"It's starting, it's starting!!!"
"How long do you think Dante can hold out this time?"
"Last time it was one minute, so this time… at least a minute and a half, right?"
According to Vice-Captain Rayleigh, the ability's name should be…
The Teleport-Teleport Fruit?
"Not at all!"
At some point, Captain Roger had appeared behind the two little brats, placing his big hands on their heads as he grinned: "You've seen it before, Dante is using the Marines' Rokushiki."
"Eh!!??"
Shanks and Buggy's jaws dropped, their faces full of disbelief.
Of course they knew about Rokushiki—it was an advanced martial art, almost like a preschool version of Haki. But the real problem was…
This was one of the Marines' signature techniques, and Dante had already mastered it at nine years old?
Sure enough, when they looked back to the battlefield, Dante had suddenly appeared behind Rayleigh, swinging a kick straight toward his kidney.
Sorry, Auntie Shakky, don't blame me for this!
But just as the kick was about to land, Dante suddenly pulled his leg back and quickly retreated instead.
Rayleigh slowly turned his head, seeing Dante's serious expression, and a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.
"Why did you pull back halfway?"
Dante looked at Rayleigh's teasing grin—like some shady uncle—and muttered with a pout: "Nothing much… it just felt like if I kept going, something really bad would happen."
In fact,
For a split second, he had vaguely seen an image of his own leg breaking.
Erring on the side of caution, Dante had withdrawn his leg, while trying to grasp that strange sensation again.
"An overdeveloped Observation Haki can sometimes hinder your growth, boy!"
Rayleigh chuckled as he spoke, then almost instantly appeared in front of Dante.
Nani?!
Dante's Observation Haki blared in alarm!
Observation: Enemy detected!
Brain: React now!
Body: Why don't you come and try reacting? Easier said than done!
This was one of Dante's weaknesses—his Observation was so strong it gave him a "god's eye view," the perspective of a natural-born powerhouse.
But it didn't change the fact that he was still just a kid—his body couldn't keep up with what he foresaw. That gap was his fatal flaw.
And this had nothing to do with talent—it could only be honed through constant fighting, to forge monstrous instincts and reflexes.
Only then could he wield more advanced powers,
Like Haki.
In plain words: fight more, get beaten more—that's the fastest crash course in Armament Haki.
And Dante's monstrous physique could shorten this process, but never skip it.
So when faced with Rayleigh's sudden strike, Dante quickly realized dodging was impossible—it was better to stand tall and take it.
He decided on the spot to use it as training, gritting his teeth,
and unleashed the beggar-tier version of Armament he had just learned—
"Iron Body!!!"
No way I can't block just one little kick—
…
"Dante, you're finally awake!"
"Holy crap…"
Dante slowly opened his eyes, seeing two boys standing at his bedside, and in just two and a half seconds, realized what had happened.
Uncle Rayleigh had literally kicked him to sleep again.
Should he say Rayleigh's kicks were just too strong, or that "being put to sleep" was the cursed passive effect of this damn technique?
If I ever use Iron Body again, I swear I'm a dog.
Dante swore silently in his heart.
"Hey, Dante, are you really okay?"
Seeing Dante get straight out of bed, Buggy and Shanks looked at him with worried faces.
After all, they had clearly seen it: right after Dante fainted, the pitch-black, almost purple Armament Haki covering Vice-Captain Rayleigh's leg had made even Captain Roger sweat nervously, asking if Rayleigh hadn't gone too far.
Dante might be a monster, but taking a hit like that head-on should have left him bedridden for days—they couldn't imagine how he was even standing.
And besides, as Dante's close brothers, they were genuinely worried something might be wrong with his body.
This guy Dante… he was way too reckless.
But the center of it all, Dante himself, didn't seem to care. He just stretched his body lightly.
"It's fine. By the way, how long was I out? Don't tell me it's been a whole day."
Dante looked perfectly fine—until his hand brushed against his chest and he sucked in a sharp breath.
Damn, that hurts!
Seeing his pained expression, Shanks and Buggy thought his injuries had flared up again, so they hurried to support him.
"Don't push yourself, Dante!"
"Yeah! If you're hurt, then rest properly, you idiot!"
Grimacing, Dante unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his chest, the skin covered in deep black bruising. His lips twitched.
"Eh? Dante, when did you master Armament Haki?"
Shanks saw this and shouted in shock, his eyes full of disbelief.
Buggy, seeing his reaction, nearly exploded: "Are you an idiot?! That's obviously just a bruise!"
"Ohhh… hahahahaha, I see! I must've mistaken it!" Shanks said belatedly, laughing loudly.
"You bastard, you piss me off so much!"
Buggy hated this about Shanks—the way he always missed the point like a big dumb lug, then casually watched while Buggy fumed.
And usually, this was when Dante would laugh heartily at the scene, then sling his arms around both their shoulders once they were done arguing, cleverly changing the subject.
"Don't be mad, Buggy. Let's all go eat."
"Tch… fine, but only because it's Dante asking—not you, Shanks!"
"Yeah yeah… I get it."
...
"My bet is two minutes."
"Anyone wanna place the next bet, minna-san?"
"…Don't make me smack you, Bittam!"
Maybe it was boredom, but on Roger's ship a bunch of rough pirates gathered excitedly, ready to watch a new battle unfold.
Dante wore a shrunken black military uniform he'd somehow scavenged, with a black spear strapped to his back, staring intently at the figure before him.
His black hair fluttered in the wind. His face, though still young, held a determined expression—and undeniable handsomeness.
That face had a unique sharpness, almost reminiscent of the Uchiha clan.
And standing across from him was a blond middle-aged man, who, even while standing casually, exerted crushing pressure on Dante.
"As expected of the Dark King Rayleigh—just his stance alone shows how terrifyingly strong he is."
Dante understood well—no true powerhouse in this world had risen without fighting. Pure self-training was the path of lesser pirates.
But he, Dante—
—specialized in sheer hard-headedness!
If you're afraid of pain, you've got no business being a pirate!
Seeing Rayleigh unmoving, Dante didn't wait any longer. In Shanks and Buggy's dumbfounded eyes, his figure vanished from the spot.
"Eh? He disappeared in an instant?"
"When did Dante eat a Devil Fruit?"
They knew about Dante and Uncle Bittam's little scam, so naturally they also knew that the treasure Captain Roger had once lost in a bet was actually a Devil Fruit.
And when it came time to split the loot, Dante hadn't asked for money—he had only taken that Devil Fruit.
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