"Don't you dare die on me, Yoriichi!"
With a low murmur, Dragon's fist drove mercilessly into Yoriichi Tsugikuni's abdomen. A terrifying force exploded outward, and in the blink of an eye, Yoriichi's body vanished from Dragon's sight, hurtling straight into the depths of the island like a shooting star.
Caught off guard by Dragon's sudden strike, Yoriichi barely had time to coat his body in Armament Haki. Even so, the sheer force of the blow sent a searing pain through his core.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Boom!
Yoriichi was launched over a kilometer away, crashing through countless colossal trees before slamming into a mountainside. Only then did his body come to a halt.
When he hit the mountain, the impact echoed like thunder. Cracks splintered across the rock face as shards of stone crumbled and clattered to the ground.
Right at the center of the impact zone, a battered and tattered youth was now embedded deep into the mountain. Jagged, web-like fractures radiated from his body, marring the cliff face in every direction.
The island's wildlife scattered in chaos at the deafening sound—birds took flight, beasts fled, and the once-lively forest descended into uneasy silence.
Soon, a breeze swept through the trees. Dragon's figure appeared at the base of the mountain.
"He's probably still alive. Judging by how tough that kid is, he should've been able to take it."
"I didn't go all out, after all."
Muttering to himself, Dragon looked up—and just in time to see Yoriichi slowly "prying" his right arm out of the stone, his expression contorted with strain. A moment later, his left arm followed.
Hands braced against the cliff, Yoriichi gasped carefully, gritting his teeth.
"Could you at least… let me prepare next time?"
Dragon burst out laughing the moment Yoriichi's head poked out from the crater. By the time Yoriichi had fully dislodged himself, he was too exhausted to use Geppo and plunged headfirst toward the ground.
But just before impact, a gust of wind swirled beneath him, cushioning his fall and sparing him a brutal landing.
Sprawled flat on his back, Yoriichi didn't even dare to breathe deeply—every inhale sent a sharp pain through his stomach.
He lay there for a long time, but the ache refused to subside.
"So? Feel anything yet?"
Still panting cautiously, Yoriichi opened his eyes to find Dragon's grinning face looming close. He sighed in exasperation, about to retort—when his brow suddenly furrowed. A flicker of surprise danced across his expression.
Seeing the change, Dragon's smile faded. A twitch formed at the corner of his eye.
"…No way… don't tell me…"
Dragon remained on the Boin Archipelago for half a month.
By mid-December, he departed aboard the same battleship he'd arrived on, slowly sailing away from the island's shore.
The sea breeze was gentle. Standing at the ship's stern, Dragon gazed back at the distant silhouette of Boin Archipelago, his eyes deep with thought.
"Vice Admiral Dragon, where to next?"
A marine officer walked up behind him and saluted, curiosity plain in his eyes as he took in Dragon's disheveled appearance.
It wasn't some strange fascination, he was just genuinely shocked. Dragon looked nothing like the dignified man who had first stepped foot on the island.
His once-pristine officer's uniform was now in tatters. Through the tears, glimpses of a ruggedly muscular physique showed. At a glance, he looked more like a drifter than a high-ranking Marine officer.
"Back to HQ. There's something I need to report to the old man."
Dragon glanced at the officer, then down at himself. He let out a small chuckle and shook his head before turning toward the cabin.
Just before disappearing inside, he left the officer with a parting remark:
"This island… is nurturing the very future of our Navy."
Zzzzzkkk!
Back at the center of Boin Archipelago, a black slash laced with crackling dark lightning carved clean through the jungle. In its wake, vegetation across a span of several kilometers was obliterated—ancient trees toppled, and clouds of dust erupted into the air.
By the Ramen Waterfall, Yoriichi calmly sheathed his blade. Lowering his head, he glanced at a strange plant he'd cleaved clean in two, then turned toward the cascading noodles.
Setting his sword aside, he deftly picked up two nearby sticks, stripped off their bark, and gave them a quick blow, then reached into the waterfall, ready to fish out his next meal.
Just then, a shrill "bloop-bloop" sounded from the Den Den Mushi nestled in his chest pocket.
"Now who could it be at this hour?"
"It's not even the end of the month yet. It shouldn't be another trial…"
Pausing mid-motion, Yoriichi withdrew his hand, set down his makeshift chopsticks, and pulled out the receiver.
"Moshi moshi?"
He answered with a smile, greeting whoever was on the line. He didn't know who it could be, but if the call came through this line, it had to be someone close to Zephyr-sensei.
A voice came through, calm and familiar:
"It's me, Yoriichi."
From the other end of the line came Zephyr's familiar, deep, and resonant voice.
"Instructor Zephyr! What a surprise, what made you call at this hour?"
Yoriichi's face lit up with a smile as soon as he heard that voice.
"Oh? Am I not allowed to call you at this hour?"
"Yoriichi, well done. That kid Dragon has already returned to headquarters."
"I've heard about your mastery of Conqueror's Haki infusion."
At those words, Yoriichi's smile didn't falter. He waited quietly, knowing Zephyr had more to say.
"As of now, only three people know about it—me, Dragon, and Garp."
"Don't let anyone else in on it just yet."
Yoriichi's expression grew more serious. He nodded and replied, "Understood."
"For the time being, I won't be sending anyone else to test you."
"There's no longer any need for those so-called trials."
"I've spoken to Garp, he'll come 'check on' you himself when he has the time."
At that, Yoriichi fell completely silent.
"Stay focused on your training at Boin Archipelago, Yoriichi. Don't let your mind wander."
"Before long, it'll be Ōmisoka(New Year's Eve) . I left some new clothes, pants, and shoes at your home."
"I know you've grown a lot, your old clothes probably don't fit anymore."
"Try them on when you get back."
"That's all. I'm heading off."
With that, Zephyr hung up the Den Den Mushi.
Yoriichi stared blankly at the receiver for a moment. Then, in a flash of movement, his Observation Haki swept out, and his figure vanished from beside the waterfall of ramen.
When he arrived at the coast near his shelter, a battleship had just pulled away, accelerating into the distance.
"Instructor Zephyr…"
"Still so damn stubborn."
Yoriichi looked out over the ocean at the fading ship, chuckling to himself before turning and heading back to his shelter.
The moment he stepped inside, his eyes landed on a corner of the cliffside cave—neatly stacked was a bundle of clothes. Summer wear, autumn wear, even pajamas. Next to them were two fresh futons, still pristine.
"Ōmisoka, huh… So it's almost New Year's."
For Yoriichi, the New Year passed with little of its usual warmth or festivity. Then again, that wasn't entirely true—at least he had new clothes to wear.
Zephyr had brought him all sorts of outfits, clearly having predicted his future growth. The sizes were laid out in an almost step-by-step progression, as if tailored to match each stage of Yoriichi's development.
After the New Year, Yoriichi's solitary life on the island didn't change much.
Eat. Train. Meditate. Zone out.
At night, he'd use the Den Den Mushi to report his safety to Zephyr.
Those calm, methodical days slipped by in the blink of an eye.
Winter gave way to spring, spring returned to winter.
Before long, it was the end of the year 1498 of the Sea Circle Calendar.
And with the docking of a dog-headed battleship at Boin Archipelago, Yoriichi's peaceful and fulfilling days came to an end.
"Yoriichi Tsugikuni! Where are you?!!"
"I'm here to pick you up!!!"
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