Bullet stood on the figurehead of the Oro Jackson, fifteen meters above the deck.
Eyes closed, feet planted as if they had grown into the wood, he let the ship rock gently with the waves beneath him.
He was practicing control over his Conqueror's Haki.
Rayleigh had said Conqueror's could not be trained in the usual way, but Bullet had his own approach.
Since Conqueror's Haki was the manifestation of "will," then perhaps by sharpening his mind, he could find a way to grasp it.
He first shrank his awareness down to the limit, focusing only on the texture beneath his feet.
The grain of the wood, the salt crystals along the seams, the marks left by years of wind and rain... every detail became crystal clear under his Observation Haki.
Then, he began to release Conqueror's Haki at an extremely slow pace.
He guided that overbearing will down through his legs and into the figurehead.
The first three attempts all failed.
Once Conqueror's left his body, it bolted like a wild horse, refusing to be penned, spreading outward beyond his control.
The first time, it stunned a few fish swimming past the hull.
The second time, it sent a flock of seabirds flapping frantically away from the distant surface.
The third time was the worst. Two unlucky crewmen who had gotten up in the night to use the head suddenly lost strength in their legs and fell over.
On the fourth attempt, Bullet finally found the feeling he was looking for.
He slowed the release down to the absolute limit, and the moment his Conqueror's Haki left his body, he used his devouring ability to "filter" it.
He stripped out the most violent, berserk parts and left only the purest core of "will."
It worked.
A black halo spread over the figurehead's head like a thin film.
It lasted only three seconds before collapsing, but in those three seconds, the figurehead no longer felt like a simple carved ornament.
It felt like some kind of sacred totem.
"Interesting experiment."
The voice came from below.
Bullet lowered his head and saw Roger standing on the deck, looking up at him.
The captain had clearly just woken up. His hair was a mess, his beard uncombed, but his eyes were sharp as a hawk's.
There was a bottle in his hand.
"Come down and talk?" Roger said.
Bullet dropped lightly from the figurehead and landed on the deck without a sound.
The two of them walked over to the rail and leaned against it.
In the east, the sky was beginning to pale.
"That trick just now," Roger took a swig of wine, "was that Conqueror's coating?"
"It was only a test," Bullet replied.
"That alone is impressive," Roger grinned.
"Truth is, not many people can pull it off."
"Conqueror's is too proud. It does not like being handled with precision the way Armament does."
"It prefers to explode... to slam down all at once and let everyone know who is the boss."
He clapped Bullet on the shoulder.
"But you are different, kid."
"Your Conqueror's has 'the urge to control'."
"You want to ride it, not be dragged along by it."
"That is both good, and bad."
"How so?"
"On the good side, it means your will is strong enough to try to tame even Conqueror's Haki," Roger said, face turning uncharacteristically serious.
"On the bad side... too much need for control might strip away the 'purity' of Conqueror's."
He looked straight at Bullet.
"Do you know why they say only one in a million is born with Conqueror's Haki?"
"Because it represents the purest, most extreme 'self'."
"What you did just now really was amazing."
"But in the process of filtering, you also cut away the wildest, least tame parts of yourself."
Roger turned fully toward him and spoke each word clearly.
"Remember this, Bullet."
"A true strong man is not someone with no weaknesses. He is someone who can show his weaknesses openly and still remain strong."
"A true king is not the one who controls everything. He is the one who, even when he loses control, can still crush everything in his path."
The words hit Bullet's chest like a hammer.
He stayed silent for a long time, then asked quietly, "Captain, has your Conqueror's ever gone out of control?"
"Of course."
Roger burst out laughing.
"When I was young it happened all the time."
"I would get worked up and knock out everyone on an entire street. Rayleigh had to clean up after me again and again."
"Later I learned to control it, but not by 'suppressing' it."
"By understanding it."
He tapped his own chest.
"Understanding why you are angry, why you are joyful, why you want to protect certain people, why you want to destroy certain things."
"When you truly understand every emotion in your heart, they stop being your enemies and become your strength."
Bullet's eyes dropped, thoughts churning.
At that moment, Rayleigh stepped out of the cabin as well.
Judging by the look on his face, he had heard the last part of their conversation.
He picked up the thread.
"Roger is right, but there is one more thing you need to keep in mind."
The first mate joined them at the rail and looked at Bullet.
"Your Conqueror's is not just your own will."
"Just now, when you released it, I could feel other 'impurities' mixed in without you realizing it, things you had devoured."
His expression turned serious.
"That is dangerous."
"Conqueror's Haki is a mirror of your soul. If that mirror reflects not only you, but the shadows of everyone you have devoured..."
"Over time, you may no longer know which emotions are yours, and which belong to others."
A shock ran through Bullet's heart.
He had never truly considered that.
While devouring and evolving gave him power, it also meant that countless fragments of "outsiders" had been accumulating inside him all along.