The New World—on Green Bit Island, just beside Dressrosa.
Boom!
Several towering trees crashed to the ground beneath the crushing force of a black-haired man's fist, sending a cloud of dust billowing into the sky.
"This body is far too powerful. To waste it without mastering Haki would be a crime!"
Souta Kiryuu's black hair whipped in the wind as his body crackled with electricity. In the few days since his escape, he had already begun to master the terrifying powers coursing through him, granting himself overwhelming ability to survive.
Electric arcs wrapped his muscular frame as he admired the coiled strength of his flesh, a satisfied grin crossing his face. The massive wounds left by Kizaru had vanished without a trace. Even the faint, poisonous purple patterns had been suppressed deep beneath his skin.
The raw physical strength of this body alone rivaled the defensive force of Armament Haki. Such was the natural might of the Oni bloodline and the Ancient Giant heritage within him. Not only was his defense terrifying, but his strength was immense, and his recovery ability matched that of even Zoan-type Devil Fruit users.
Combined with the power of the artificial Azure Dragon fruit, Souta was now even stronger than the young Kaido of the Beasts had once been.
His defense was monstrous. Though not quite as impenetrable as Big Mom's "iron balloon" body, it rivaled Bobby Funk's natural armored hide, tough enough to shatter weapons hardened with standard Armament Haki.
Perhaps due to the faint awakening of a failed Mink bloodline, Souta's black hair had grown unnaturally long, sparking constantly with blue-white electricity. He looked almost like a Super Saiyan, a wild mane alive with static.
Flames of the Lunarian race burned along his body, and in his hybrid dragon form, two massive horns—reminiscent of the Ancient Giants—jutted from his skull.
"If these failed bloodline modifications could all be awakened… then my power would be limitless."
Souta clenched his fist, ambition burning in his eyes. He hadn't expected this body—one he'd inherited through transmigration—to possess such frightening compatibility. Each torturous experiment he had endured had fused more and more bloodlines within him, making him something unique, something terrifying.
The Mink heritage seemed only faintly active, as he hadn't grown fur all over his body—a small mercy. But he could still control electricity, especially when combined with the Azure Dragon's storm powers and the Lunarian flames, giving him devastating control over thunder and fire alike.
This modified body was even stronger than that of those rare few who wielded multiple Devil Fruits.
Lightning, flame, slicing winds, laser beams, poison, transparency, gigantification, flight, overwhelming strength—the sheer diversity of abilities at his disposal already outstripped Plague Queen's vast arsenal.
This was Vegapunk and the scientific division's ultimate masterpiece.
His body—the vessel he now occupied after crossing into this world—was the chosen survivor, the strongest possible host. Even so, his Lunarian bloodline had only partially awakened—just the Adaptation Flames. His brown skin, white hair, and wings had not manifested.
The Mink bloodline, too, had only unlocked its electrostatic power. He didn't know yet whether the fabled Sulong transformation would one day awaken, but at least his body had not grown the full pelt of a Mink.
As for the failed Fishman bloodline… what might that bring forth? Could it grant him the ability to breathe underwater? Or perhaps ten times the strength in his arms?
Even if it did, such strength would be overshadowed by the Oni and Ancient Giant might already coursing through him.
And besides—once he had consumed the Azure Dragon fruit, the Fishman bloodline had become largely redundant.
"I'll never let myself be thrown into the sea. Never."
After tidying up the trees he had knocked down, Souta hauled one over his shoulder and returned to his crude shelter, intending to expand it.
"Souta Lando, don't go destroying the forest like that."
A small golden figure leapt lightly onto his shoulder, her voice soft but admonishing.
"Understood," Souta replied with a rare smile, suppressing the lightning and killing intent radiating from his body. He turned toward the tiny princess perched beside him.
Since his arrival in this world, it was one of the few genuine smiles he had shown.
A few days earlier, when he was still half-conscious from his injuries, a single lie had won him the trust and friendship of the Tontatta dwarves. By claiming to be a descendant of the great adventurer Noland, he had convinced Princess Mansherry to heal him with her powers.
Since then, the little people had offered him food, herbs, and shelter without hesitation. Even the pants he now wore were "borrowed" from Dressrosa by their nimble hands. His bloodstained lab coat had long been discarded.
Seeing these dwarves risk themselves to provide for him, Souta—scarred by years of pain and darkness—felt, for the first time, the warmth of genuine kindness in this cruel world.
"Souta Lando, you should let Leo and the others help you build your house. They work really fast!" Mansherry chirped, her face bright with excitement.
Yesterday, Souta had secretly taken her to the bustling streets of Dressrosa. She had enjoyed it so much she already wanted to go again.
But under Doflamingo's rule, Dressrosa's people no longer showed the dwarves the kindness they had once known under King Riku. Some even hunted them, selling them at auctions.
Recently, the dwarves had overheard Doflamingo's officers discussing how captured Tontatta warriors had been sold to a great pirate called "Big Mom"—to be bred and collected.
The thought terrified them.
Their kind being handed over to giants for breeding was a nightmare too horrifying to imagine.
As a result, the dwarves had drastically reduced their trips to Dressrosa, no longer daring to "borrow" as they once did.
"No need to trouble Leo and the others," Souta said, patting Mansherry's golden head gently. "This hut is just temporary. I won't be staying on Green Bit forever."
His true goals burned within him. He needed to grow stronger. To build power. To take revenge.
"It's not trouble at all! We're happy to help. To us, you're as great as Noland himself—an adventurer and a hero!" Mansherry declared with bright sincerity.
Over the past days, she and her people had witnessed Souta's overwhelming might. Power after power, each more incredible than the last. Their awe and admiration only deepened.
Four centuries ago, Noland had saved the Tontatta, earning their eternal gratitude. Now, they believed Souta Kiryuu would become their new hero.
Their chieftain, Gancho, had already begged Souta to aid the Riku royal family in overthrowing Doflamingo, so that the dwarves could once again live in peace. The Donquixote Family had already captured dozens of their kin for sale; fear now ruled their every step.
Gancho even asked Souta to rescue those already sold.
Souta thought briefly, then agreed. He would help them.
But first, he needed time. Time to grow stronger. Time to prepare.
The dwarves, honest and trusting, immediately pledged their loyalty. They would follow Souta anywhere—live with him, fight with him, die with him if necessary.
Their devotion gave Souta exactly what he needed: a foundation. From nothing, he could build a force. The dwarves were the perfect starting point. Loyal, easy to lead, and brimming with potential.
Even better, among them were four Devil Fruit users: Mansherry with the Heal-Heal Fruit, another with the Stitch-Stitch Fruit, and two Zoan users with insect forms—a wasp and a rhinoceros beetle.
Of all these, Souta valued Mansherry's healing powers most.
The dwarves were small but incredibly strong, lightning-fast, and surprisingly capable fighters—though timid and too honest for their own good. They also excelled in agriculture, natural-born stewards of the land. That might prove useful later.
And for now, Caesar had yet to escape prison to join Doflamingo. The artificial Devil Fruit production had not yet begun, so the Donquixote Family wasn't rounding up dwarves for forced labor.
That spared Souta a great deal of trouble.
Most importantly, the dwarves trusted him completely. They were obedient, loyal, and earnest.
How could he ever cast aside a race that had practically handed themselves to him—especially when they had saved his life?