The next moment, a beast-like glint flashed in Takero's eyes.
He took a large step back, his right foot planted firmly behind him as he sank into a low stance. His back arched like a fully drawn bow, gathering power for the attack. In an instant, he had struck the classic pose he had practiced thousands of times in his mind, a stance so familiar it felt etched into his very bones.
Buzz—!
An invisible yet violent storm of energy began to gather and compress between his cupped palms. The air around him seemed to thicken, gripped by an unseen force that let out a low, oppressive hum that vibrated deep in your chest. The core of energy between his hands grew brighter and brighter, shining with an unstable, scorching white light. Within that light, subtle but dangerous snakes of black-and-red lightning crackled—a sign that his Conqueror's Haki was unconsciously leaking into the blast.
"Ka... me... ha..."
The light wasn't the pure, sky-blue color from the Dragon Ball stories. It was a chaotic mix of dazzling white energy and the black-and-red lightning of his Haki.
"ME—!!!"
His final word exploded like a thunderclap. Takero thrust his arms forward, pouring all of his strength and will into the attack, unleashing it towards the vast, open sea.
Whoosh—Boom!
In that instant, Shanks and every crew member on the Red Force felt the light drain from the world, as if the sun had momentarily dimmed. A split second later, a thick pillar of energy—a swirling torrent of white light and chaotic black-and-red electricity—roared from between Takero's palms. It shot across the sky like a world-destroying dragon breaking free from its chains.
Wait? A light… a light wave?! What in the hell is that thing?!
Shanks's jaw nearly hit the deck. His arms, which had been crossed over his chest, had fallen limply to his sides. He had definitely sensed a powerful surge of energy mixed with all three types of Haki, but this… this wasn't something Haki could do. This was a destructive energy cannon.
The terrifying beam of light tore through the air, letting out a piercing, ear-splitting shriek that made everyone's hair stand on end. Wherever it passed, the sea was mercilessly split open, the water instantly evaporating. It carved a deep, vacuum trench in the ocean, with scalding white steam rising from both sides. The energy pillar continued to surge forward until it was just a speck of light on the horizon, leaving behind a long "scar" on the sea that refused to heal and the lingering smell of burnt air.
Takero let out a long, hot breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His face showed the excitement of pulling off a new move for the first time, but also a hint of exhaustion. He turned to look at Shanks, who was standing beside him as if he'd been turned to stone.
"So, how was it? I just awakened my 'Ki,' so I'm still not great at controlling it. What do you think?"
"..."
What was there to think?
With great difficulty, Shanks slowly moved his gaze from the steaming trench in the ocean back to Takero's young face, which was looking at him with seriousness and expectation. He was silent for three full seconds, his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to find words. Finally, with a look of pure shock and a shattered worldview, he squeezed out the question, his voice filled with disbelief.
"You... call that Haki?"
The destructive power he had just witnessed was comparable to an attack from a top-tier Logia Devil Fruit user. More importantly, he had sailed the Grand Line for years and fought countless powerful enemies, but he had never, ever heard of Haki being condensed into a beam of light and fired like a cannon. If it weren't for the familiar mix of Conqueror's, Armament, and even Observation Haki he had felt within that energy pillar, Shanks would have thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, or that he was still drunk from the night before.
"How... how did you do that?!" he practically roared, his voice a mix of burning curiosity and utter confusion.
"It's simple," Takero said with a matter-of-fact expression, as if he were talking about something as easy as eating or drinking. "You just gather the 'Ki' inside your body, compress it, and then fire it out. Wait, you can't do that?"
He looked at Shanks with a hint of genuine confusion in his eyes.
Staring into that clear, puzzled gaze, Shanks felt like he was about to choke. Me? I can't do a damn thing like that! he screamed internally.
He was completely bewildered. What in the world was this kid? He had assumed he was just some kind of Mink, but this was beyond anything he had ever seen. Or… had the world changed so much that he, a "young man" himself, was already a relic of the past?
In that moment, "Red Hair" Shanks, a mighty Yonko only twenty years old and in the prime of his life, fell into a deep state of age-related anxiety and self-doubt.
Could it be... I'm really getting old?
"Hey, don't get discouraged," Takero said, seeing the look of existential dread on Shanks's face. He patted his arm comfortingly. "As long as you learn the right way to do it, you can do it, too."
He suddenly remembered an important detail. In the world of Dragon Ball, the art of using "Ki" was a secret technique pioneered by a legendary martial arts master. Everyone has Ki, but most people don't know how to control it. Learning to control it was the mark of a true master. It was like a gun; it couldn't fire if the safety was on. Takero was sure that a powerful man like Shanks had an incredible amount of Ki inside him; he just hadn't found the key to "turn off the safety."
"Wait? I... I can do it, too?" Shanks's voice was suddenly filled with hopeful anticipation, and his eyes lit up. Such a cool, powerful, and completely unheard-of way to use Haki—he, Shanks, could learn it?
What man could possibly refuse the chance to shoot cool beams of light from his hands? Shanks's heart began to pound with excitement.
'Once I learn this, I'm definitely going to show Buggy. It'll make him so jealous!' The image of his best friend's comical, envious face immediately appeared in his mind, and the corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous grin.
"Ah—choo!"
Meanwhile, far away in the East Blue, on a small, deserted island, Captain Buggy let out a massive sneeze. He was digging in the sand for what he hoped was treasure, not yet having formed his official pirate crew. He rubbed his iconic red nose furiously and looked around, as if he had heard someone mocking him.
"You bastard!" he roared at the empty air, stomping his foot. "Don't call me Red Nose!"
He muttered fiercely to himself, "Damn it! It must be that bastard Shanks talking trash about me behind my back again! Just you wait, Captain Buggy won't forget this!"
After his outburst, he angrily kicked at the sand and went back to his great treasure hunt, adding another mark against Shanks's name in his mental book of grudges.