(11/02/24 - 20:15) (Thursday February 11, 1524)
Uma stepped off the wooden porch of the clinic. The cool night air of the Sabaody Archipelago washed over his bare chest. He bypassed the open dirt paths and walked directly toward the colossal base of the nearest Yarukiman Mangrove tree. The roots of these ancient trees possessed a petrified, iron-like density, capable of supporting the weight of entire towns.
He stood before a sheer, vertical section of the massive root. The surface was rough, coated in a thin layer of dried, hardened resin.
He intended to exploit his biological anomaly to the absolute limit. He possessed a hyper-recovery system fueled by raw calories. Normal human bone conditioning required years of carefully creating micro-fractures and allowing them to calcify. He planned to compress years of conditioning into a single night of absolute self-destruction.
He planted his feet shoulder-width apart. He threw a straight right punch, driving his knuckles directly into the petrified wood.
The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain up his forearm. The skin over his knuckles split open instantly. He threw a left hook. The bone of his middle knuckle cracked audibly against the dense bark. He ignored the pain. He settled into a brutal, rhythmic barrage. Left, right, left, right. He threw his entire body weight into every single strike. Blood smeared across the yellow wood. The skin peeled away from his hands, exposing the raw white bone beneath the tissue. The bones in his hands fractured and splintered under the immense, repeated trauma.
He shifted his stance. He lifted his right leg and drove his shin horizontally into the trunk. The bone-on-wood collision echoed through the quiet grove like a gunshot. A hairline fracture spider-webbed across his tibia. A blinding flash of agony forced his eyes shut. He gritted his teeth, opened his eyes, and swung his left leg. He kicked the tree until the skin flayed off his shins and his legs refused to support his weight.
He fell to his knees. He grabbed the rough bark with his mangled, bleeding hands. He pulled himself forward and slammed his forehead directly into the trunk. He headbutted the wood repeatedly. A deep gash opened above his eyebrow. Warm blood poured down his face, stinging his eyes and matting his eyelashes. The cartilage in his nose crunched against the resin.
He stopped headbutting. His vision spun wildly. He forced himself to stand on his fractured legs. He looked up. A thick, protruding branch hung roughly fifteen feet above his head. He jumped, grabbing the branch with his broken hands. He screamed as the splintered bones in his fingers ground together. He hauled his body upward, swinging his legs over the wood. He stood up on the high branch, swaying in the humid wind.
He stepped off the edge. He plummeted fifteen feet, landing flat on his back against the exposed, petrified roots below.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs in a violent rush. Several ribs cracked under the extreme pressure. He lay entirely paralyzed on the cold wood, gasping for oxygen. He had successfully turned his entire skeletal structure into a shattered, bloody mess.
He spent the next hour dragging his broken body back to the clinic. He left a distinct trail of smeared blood across the dirt path. He pulled himself over the threshold of the iron door, collapsing directly onto his narrow cot. He passed out before his head hit the pillow.
(12/02/24 - 07:00) (Friday February 12, 1524)
The smell of stale tobacco smoke and burning alcohol filled his nostrils. Uma opened his eyes. He stared at the yellow ceiling, cataloging the sensations in his body.
A deep, hollow ache radiated from the very marrow of his bones. He shifted his right arm. The shattered knuckles and fractured radius held firm. He sat up. His fractured shins throbbed intensely, but the bones supported his full weight. The hyper-recovery had functioned exactly as intended, fusing the shattered calcium into a denser, thicker framework overnight.
"Look at my floor."
Doctor Vance stood near the cast-iron stove, pointing a lit cigar at the ground.
Uma looked down. A massive pool of dried, dark blood coated the wooden floorboards beneath his cot. Bloody handprints stained the iron door frame.
"You completely ruined my sterile environment," Vance growled, his voice thick with morning phlegm. "I run a medical clinic, not a slaughterhouse. Grab the mop and the bucket of bleach in the corner. You will scrub every single drop of that blood away before you even think about touching the food Koro prepared."
Uma nodded. He pushed himself off the cot. His joints popped loudly, a physical manifestation of the rapid healing. He grabbed the wooden mop and the tin bucket. He spent the next hour scrubbing the floorboards on his hands and knees, erasing the evidence of his self-mutilation.
He finished the cleaning and walked to the table. A massive pile of boiled sweet potatoes and thick slabs of sea king meat waited for him. He ate with animalistic intensity, consuming thousands of calories in a matter of minutes to replenish the biological fuel his body burned during the night.
(12/02/24 - 10:00)
The clinic opened its doors to the daily influx of wounded criminals. Uma resumed his position as Vance's orderly. He applied his newly hardened body to the tasks. He held down a screaming smuggler while Vance amputated a crushed foot. He carried unconscious pirates to the recovery cots. He noticed a distinct change in his physical presence. The men entering the clinic actively avoided making eye contact with him. The dark, hyper-pigmented scar on his abdomen and the fresh, raised calluses covering his knuckles projected an aura of suppressed violence. He stood at a solid one hundred and eighty centimeters, his frame packed with dense, functional muscle.
(12/02/24 - 17:30)
The afternoon sun began to dip behind the canopy of the mangrove trees. Vance dismissed him for the day, tossing a single towel onto his chest. Koro led Uma away from the clinic, navigating the winding paths of Grove 13 toward a secluded coastal inlet.
The inlet formed a small, deep pool of ocean water surrounded by high, petrified roots. Koro stopped at the edge of the wood, crossing his massive arms over his chest. He stood guard, watching the perimeter for scavengers.
Uma stripped off his canvas trousers and shirt. He stood completely naked on the edge of the root. He dove cleanly into the water.
The cool ocean engulfed him. The saltwater immediately stung the fresh, closing scabs on his knuckles and shins. He swam to the center of the deep pool, treading water. He scrubbed the lingering sweat, dirt, and dried blood from his skin. The sheer exhaustion of the day melted away in the rhythmic motion of the waves. He closed his eyes, floating on his back, allowing his muscles to relax completely for the first time in forty-eight hours.
....
A heavy, rushing sound displaced the water beneath him.
Uma snapped his eyes open. He dropped his legs, treading water furiously. He peered into the dark, murky depths. A massive shadow detached itself from the underwater reef. The creature measured easily twelve feet in length. It possessed the sleek, torpedo-like body of a barracuda, covered in jagged silver scales. Its jaws opened, revealing three rows of serrated, needle-like teeth. The giant fish locked its dead, black eyes entirely on him.
Pure, unadulterated panic flooded his nervous system. The primal human fear of the deep ocean overrode his newly hardened resolve. He was out of his element, completely vulnerable in the water.
He spun around. He kicked his legs frantically, swimming toward the safety of the wooden shore. The water splashed violently around his face. The heavy rushing sound behind him grew louder, closing the distance rapidly.
Then..
He stopped swimming.
He hovered in the water, staring at the approaching shore. The realization hit his mind like a physical blow. He had survived the hold of a celestial dragon ship. He had shattered his own bones to slowly build a foundation for absolute power. Now, he was fleeing from a mindless animal just because he was wet.
'I am behaving like a little bitch.'
The thought echoed clearly in the chaotic void of his mind. He gritted his teeth, his jaw locking with an audible click. He refused to run. He needed to defy his fate at every single turn, starting right now.
He turned around to face the dark water.
He pulled his knees to his chest and kicked forward, diving directly toward the rushing shadow. The giant fish lunged, its jaws snapping shut with the force of a steel trap.
Uma twisted his torso at the last possible second. The serrated teeth missed his chest but clamped down viciously on his left arm. The razor-sharp tips pierced his muscle tissue and struck the bone. A loud snap echoed underwater as his radius bone fractured completely under the bite force.
A cloud of dark red blood exploded into the saltwater.
Uma ignored the blinding pain in his arm. He used the fish's momentum against it. He swung his right leg, aiming a devastating kick at the creature's underbelly. The fish thrashed wildly, swinging its massive, armored tail forward.
The tail slammed directly into his right leg. The sheer kinetic energy of the impact shattered his tibia cleanly in half. His leg bent at a sickening, unnatural angle.
His lungs burned for oxygen. He was drowning, bleeding out, and missing the use of two limbs.
He reached out with his unbroken right arm. He shoved his fingers directly into the pulsing, red gills of the giant fish. He dug his nails deep into the sensitive respiratory organs, securing a permanent grip. He pulled the thrashing beast directly against his chest.
He pulled his head back. He channeled every ounce of his physical strength into his neck muscles. He drove his freshly conditioned forehead directly into the space between the fish's black eyes.
A dull crunch vibrated through the water.
The fish convulsed. Uma pulled his head back and slammed it forward again.
Crunch.
The thick skull of the fish fractured.
He did it a third time.
Crunch.
The brain case caved in entirely.
The giant creature went completely limp, its jaws slowly releasing his broken arm.
Uma released his grip on the gills. His vision faded to a tiny, dark pinprick. The saltwater flooded his nose and mouth. The intense agony of his broken limbs faded into a cold, numb silence. He closed his eyes, slipping into unconsciousness as the red water swallowed him.
(12/02/24 - 18:00)
Koro stood on the edge of the petrified root, watching the crimson stain spread across the surface of the cove. The Fish-Man had witnessed the entire sequence. He had seen the human panic, stop, turn around, and engage in absolute brutality.
Koro gave a small, slow nod of respect.
The giant Fish-Man dove into the water. He reached the center of the bloody pool in seconds. He grabbed the limp, broken body of Uma with his left hand. He grabbed the tail of the dead giant fish with his right. He swam back to the shore, hauling both bodies out of the ocean and onto the wood.
Koro threw the massive fish over his shoulder. He scooped Uma up, cradling the unconscious, bleeding human carefully against his chest. He marched rapidly back through the darkening paths of Grove 13 back to Grove 29.
Koro kicked the heavy iron door of the clinic open. He stepped inside, dripping saltwater and fresh blood onto the newly cleaned floorboards.
Doctor Vance looked up from his desk. The doctor stared at the mangled arm, the leg bent at a right angle, and the deep, bleeding gashes across Uma's torso.
Vance threw his cigar onto the floor.
"Ohhh Fuck You UMAAAA" Vance screamed, his voice echoing off the wooden walls.
The doctor grabbed a bottle of alcohol and a set of iron splints, sprinting toward the central table to begin the gruesome work of putting the human back together again.