"Hmph. Just because merchant convoys don't dare land on Thunder God Island doesn't mean we never leave," Bui Lee grumbled. "We still go out to trade for what we need."
Seeing the elder's irritation, Jin realized he'd stepped on a landmine.
"My bad," he said simply. "Didn't mean it like that."
"It's fine," Bui Lee sighed. "Most people think the same thing when they hear 'Thunder God Island.'"
"But your way of training is what's really terrifying. Way too rough."
Jin frowned.
What, just standing there getting blasted by lightning isn't correct?
Back in his old world, protagonists did this sort of thing all the time.
"You're being too direct," Bui Lee said. "You went straight for the hardest part. No adaptation period. Very easy to die like that."
"Be grateful you've got that freakish healing."
He looked Jin up and down.
Most of the dragon-wounds had already closed. Only faint traces of burns and cracks in his skin remained.
"Our ancestors paid in blood to slowly piece together a tempering method that actually fits this place," the elder said.
"Name your price," Jin said. His patience for lengthy speeches was limited.
"Heh. Smart," Bui Lee chuckled. "As expected of the man who cut down Golden Lion Shiki."
"Oh? So your intel's pretty up to date."
"Not that up to date," Bui Lee replied. He reached to the side, pulled a crumpled newspaper from a shelf, and handed it over.
Jin unfolded it.
On the front page was a grainy photo of him and Shiki's final clash.
He was standing there, drenched in his own blood, the ground beneath him stained dark.
Shiki lay on the earth in front of him, laughing like he'd won.
"You've been quiet the last few years," Bui Lee said. "Dropped out of the public eye. But the moment you showed your face just now, this old man recognized you."
"That's why I invited you here instead of leaving you in the crater. I don't want my villagers dying for nothing. There aren't many of us left."
"Your conditions?" Jin asked again.
"Come with me," Bui Lee said.
—
They stepped out of the cave.
While they'd been talking, the thirty-minute interval had ended.
Lightning started pouring from the clouds again with a deafening roar.
Bui Lee led him along a narrow path that wound up toward the edge of the "safe zone."
"This," the elder said, gesturing ahead, "is the body-tempering method we developed over generations."
Jin looked.
A massive lightning rod loomed ahead of them, stabbing straight into the sky like a spear of metal.
Thick insulated lines spread out from its base like roots, branching across the surrounding ground.
"This is how we train now," Bui Lee explained. "As long as the storm is active, this rod gets struck constantly."
"The current is diverted, stabilized, and distributed through these channels."
"We put our kids at the far edges first, let them endure tiny traces of the current, slowly adapt as they grow."
He kept explaining the layout and the way they increased exposure, but Jin was already focused on the core idea.
"Your conditions," Jin cut in for the third time.
The elder smiled, as if that was the answer he'd been waiting for.
"Since Roger said those words on the scaffold, the sea's only gotten more chaotic," Bui Lee said. "Today's pirates aren't like the ones from back then."
"Every so often some idiot crew comes here to try their luck. With the lightning and the ore, this place draws trouble."
He stooped, picked up a stone from the ground, and handed it to Jin.
Jin squeezed.
The stone shattered like brittle glass—but the density, the weight, the feel of it…
"Yeah," he said. "Good stuff. Perfect forging material. With lightning baking it all year, no way it's weak."
"Exactly. You think we don't want to sell it?" Bui Lee sighed. "But there's only so much ore here. If we over-mine it, that's it. The island loses its special traits."
"Our ancestors left us a rule—no over-extraction. Mine slowly. Only what we need."
"So even now, there's still a lot of ore underground."
"Ordinary pirate crews, we can handle using the terrain and the lightning."
He met Jin's gaze, expression turning firm.
"So my condition is this: if one day we ask you for help… you come."
Jin thought for a moment.
"One time," he said. "I'll help you once."
"Good."
Bui Lee nodded. "If it ever comes to that, I won't ask lightly."
Jin nodded back—and then, predictably, walked straight past the elder and into the central zone under the lightning rod.
The elder stayed where he was, watching silently.
"I hope you really do come if the time ever comes," he murmured. "All we can do is gamble once."
Most people started small, easing their way toward the center over years.
Jin strode right into the heart of it.
"Szzzz… szzzz— Hahahahaha! That's the stuff!"
His laughter rang through the storm.
He could feel it distinctly—
His body was being strengthened in real time under the tempered lightning's assault.
For him, this was the safest way to keep pushing his physical limits without dying outright.
Outside the array, villagers gathered again, watching from afar.
Listening to him yell about how good it felt while being roasted alive, everyone's expressions twisted.
Pervert…
They thought back to earlier, when he'd flown straight into natural lightning with no protection.
Yeah.
Absolutely sick in the head.
Jin didn't care.
He let himself sink into the rhythm of destruction and rebirth, letting the outside world fade.
—
Sabaody Archipelago, Area 62. Marine Base Family Quarters.
Stella flickered forward with Soru, finger extended.
"Flying Shigan!"
Tiny bubbles snapped from her fingertip like bullets, streaking toward Ain.
Ain used Observation Haki to slip between them, not daring to tank them head-on.
The bubbles exploded on impact.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
"Let's take a break, Stella-nee," Ain said. "Compared to before, your bubble explosions are way stronger. And your firing speed's a lot faster too."
Stella panted, wiping sweat from her brow.
"Haah… alright. I'll grab drinks."
Ain had just come back from a mission.
A pirate crew had kicked up trouble nearby, and she'd gone to wipe them out and drag their captain in for auction house processing.
"How was it?" Stella asked as she came back, setting two chilled drinks on the table. "Missing White-bro yet?"
"Kyaa—! Sister Stella, why would you say it like that?" Ain yelped, face turning bright red.
"Come on," Stella teased. "Don't be shy. Everyone at the base can see what you're thinking."
Ain blushed even harder.
Stella sat beside her, gaze drifting up to the sky outside the window.
"Still… I wonder how he's doing," she murmured. "He's been gone for, what, two months now?"
Ain nodded softly.
"Yeah. He said he was going to 'raise his strength.'"
She sighed.
"No idea where he ran off to."
"Want to go shopping?" Stella suddenly suggested.
Ain glanced at the time.
It was only afternoon.
No scheduled missions. If something big came up, that big goof Jango could handle the first wave, and she could rush over after.
"…Okay," Ain said at last, nodding.
The two women changed clothes and headed out together.
—
Tesoro.
Once, he'd been nothing more than a dockworker—hauling cargo until his back nearly broke, day after day.
Then he finally caught a break and managed to claw his way ashore.
Now he had a small crew of his own.
He'd secured a contract to handle all loading and unloading at one of the local harbors. With people working under him, he no longer had to sweat in the sun every day himself.
Thanks to a quick brain and sharp business sense, he'd expanded.
From docks to storage.
Storage to shipping.
Shipping to other lines of work across nearby zones.
Lately, though…
Tesoro felt like he'd lost something.
Something really important.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what it was.
He only knew that, somehow, it mattered to him a lot.
"Boss Tesoro! Boss Tesoro!"
A breathless subordinate sprinted in from outside.
"It's bad! Haa… haa… one of our cargo ships got hijacked by the Wild Wolf Gang!"
"What?" Tesoro's face darkened. "That mangy mutt again?"
He stood up slowly.
"Gather the men."
Didn't take long.
A black tide of bodies followed Tesoro toward the Wild Wolf Gang's turf.
"Tesoro, are you really going to fight me to the death over this?" the gang's leader shouted from his side of the street.
"Hmph. How many times have you hijacked my shipments now, Grey Dog?" Tesoro snapped back.
"Every damn time, you demand I 'leave some goods behind' if I want my cargo back."
"I've had enough."
He raised his arm and swept it forward.
"Boys! Beat them down! Take this whole district!"
His men roared as they surged forward, crashing into the Wild Wolf Gang like a wave.
Tesoro paid well.
And when the money was good, brothers would gladly put their lives on the line.
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