Vmmm—
When Hawkeye drew his blade, a dull hum rolled out; even the air seemed to congeal.
Goosebumps raced over Luffy's skin. Before he even saw the edge flash, his hands shot up to guard—
—and he popped back at the respawn point.
Dead?
[During dream training, don't worry about death. Pain is dampened and you have infinite respawns.]
[Your Armament Haki application is at a low level. Recommendation: seek a breakthrough in live combat.]
Luffy stared at Hawkeye, whose blade hadn't yet left the scabbard—then glanced down to find himself reset to the exact same spot as before.
Right, he remembered a few characters from earlier:
Attempts unlimited.
So he was going to get killed by this guy for an entire day?
I xxx you.
No use talking. For Luffy, swordsmen like Hawkeye were natural predators—this was the kind of high-value training people would kill to have.
But the idea of getting drilled even in his sleep made his blood boil.
Compared to his Armament Haki gains, his profanity had improved by leaps and bounds.
At least in the dream, Hawkeye could hit back but not heckle back.
He had no idea how many deaths it took, but his dodges grew faster and he learned to draw Armament Haki properly—if raw strength wasn't enough, then concentrate it, condense it to a point.
His fighting talent had been ground out of him by Garp.
Progress came fast—and his trash talk was on point.
Add in a Devil Fruit that was easy to leverage and rich in variations:
If his hands could be a Gatling, then his legs could, too.
If he was feeling cheeky, his fingers could spread like a net.
Most important of all—Luffy wasn't afraid to die.
Which was downright shameless.
A swordsman's attacks boiled down to a handful of things. Hawkeye wasn't like Zoro, who liked to invent forms and recite poetry between slashes.
His toolkit was… swing, swing. Basic attack, basic attack.
But in combat craft, Hawkeye was way out of spec. After all, he casually crossed blades with an Emperor like Shanks.
What needled Luffy most was that black blade.
It felt sheathed tip-to-guard in Armament Haki; when Luffy's Haki thinned for a beat, the follow-up was a clean cut.
By the end he was numb. Pain was reduced, not erased.
You ever been diced into chunks? At times like this, Luffy almost envied that red-nosed clown's power.
"Come on, swordsmen are always like this. Don't talk nonsense with your eyes open—are swordsmen really that great?"
"Devil Fruit users have the tools to beat swordsmen."
"If you're losing, look in the mirror. Have you really developed your Fruit?"
If anyone started chirping at him, Luffy would fire back:
Scram—no deaths, no comments!
He didn't know how long it ran before the tone finally changed.
[Weak-point duel complete. Beginning live-combat exercises.]
"Huh?"
Dead-eyed, Luffy snapped alert as several figures appeared nearby.
Alvida, with an iron mace.
Morgan, with an axe for a hand.
Buggy the Clown, flicking throwing knives.
…
Kuro, Krieg—and even Arlong, who was dead as dead gets.
Who was farming boss mobs for whom here?
Luffy's expression slowly twisted. Truth be told, after getting pounded this long, the sight of a field he could steamroll was downright healing.
He was already quietly delighted.
"Hey! Don't you dare stealth-buff their stats. Cheating's not allowed! Fine, give them some extra tricks if you have to—I don't mind."
If you crank them all to Hawkeye levels, what, you want me to 1v6?
No answer. The "bosses" charged in from every direction.
"Gum-Gum… Bazooka!"
Buggy, first to rush, vanished over the horizon; Luffy kicked up and came down hard, stamping Arlong into the floor.
Across the board, the numbers were in his favor.
Oh, that felt good.
After that marathon with Hawkeye, a low-level stomp was bliss. Luffy could show off to his heart's content.
Gum-Gum Pistol.
Gum-Gum Bazooka.
Second Gear—Gum-Gum Jet Bullet.
Gum-Gum Jet Gatling!
Third Gear—Gum-Gum Giant Axe.
Gum-Gum Giant Boomerang!
…
One rotation, full clear.
Luffy grinned—then his smile froze as more silhouettes spawned in the distance.
"You're sick. What's wrong with you? Selective hearing much? When I talk, you only hear the parts you like!"
Now it listened to everything.
No stat buffs—just slapping infinite-respawn buffs on the other side.
He got it; this thing had never planned to let him breathe.
[Warning: during live-combat training…]
Luffy: "…."
…
Six in the morning.
Sunlight slipped into Nami's room with the dawn.
Luffy jolted awake.
Six hours had felt like six days.
"If you've got any guts, do this with me for life," he growled through his teeth, so sour that nine evil sword sages couldn't drain it out of him.
This Pirate King Training Plan was getting spooky.
Forget Raftel. Forget the One Piece.
It was sheer, relentless overtraining.
He wanted to be Pirate King even more now.
Six hours—six hours—do you know what I went through in those six hours?
Sleep six hours? He was more wiped than after a one-hour nap. The enemy roster went from six to nine.
Even Zoro, Sanji, and Usopp showed up… and in the end the most annoying was Usopp, plinking away with that slingshot nonstop.
[Overtraining mode complete.]
[You've acquired a passive talent: Hardening.]
[Through compressive conditioning, your body's toughness has increased. Armament Haki proficiency +666.]
Luffy's grudge eased—slightly.
[Warning: wash-up time. Thirty seconds…]
He barely had time to breathe before he vaulted up, cursing, and dashed into the bathroom.
Nami, who'd also slept in a haze, was up early.
She had no idea how she'd drifted off.
Waking up to find Luffy hugging her leg again, she flushed, then grabbed his face with a vengeance.
He'd bitten her last night. Not hard, but solidly!
That wasn't even the point. In Nami's mind, the "leg-fixation" stereotype was now official.
He slept like the dead and still clung to her thigh. She hadn't even had time to change out of the maid outfit—she couldn't pry him off.
But seeing how exhausted he looked, how sour his face was, she wondered what on earth he'd dreamed.
In the end, she shoved a smirking Nojiko out the door and kept Luffy inside.
It took all her strength to peel off his hand. Breathing in relief, Nami grabbed a change of clothes and went to wash up.
Priority one: get out of that maid outfit.
She'd barely changed when—
Click.
The door swung open.
Four eyes met.
"Ah!"
Nojiko, roused by the noise, sighed to herself: "Youth is great."
Come to think of it, they were setting sail today, weren't they?