One Piece: I have Hacks

[The Synonym]

(A/N: New Fanfic, one that took me a while to balance so its premise wouldn't make the protagonist overly OP from the start.

Don't worry, though, once things start to kick off for him, his power creeping will become pretty noticeable, and hopefully, feel rewarding for you readers.

Before that, however, the protagonist will have to earn it.

I like my characters to suffer.

Anyway, enough rant, enjoy—or not.)

°

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[Reincarnation]
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| ???'s POV: |

…

"... So, in summary, I'm getting reincarnated into the One Piece world with a wish of my choice."

"Yes."

... Huh.

I guess the dreams of many guys out there were true, then.

Though, I couldn't help but feel suspicious it was happening to me specifically.

I wasn't particularly important, nor did I have any special set of abilities. My biggest accomplishment was not getting mugged in a city famous for it happening to almost everyone.

Maybe I had a scary face, or maybe I was just a fast walker... or maybe I simply looked poor.

Either way, there wasn't any real reason for me to be chosen for something like this—as much as I appreciated it.

Hence why I couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive.

So I decided to voice my suspicion, not looking all that convinced. "Alright, but why?"

The ROB—as I'd labelled him since he said his name was unpronounceable for a human like me—gave me a slow nod, as if my question had been but expected.

"I'm part of a company that collects stories. My job is to plant 'seeds' like you in worlds so they can have their own adventure and 'blossom' into a proper story. Once these stories reach a balanced state —with no further major obstacles or foreseeable problems—or die, I harvest the story, sell it to our customers, and profit."

I stared at him speechless, "...There's a customer base for that?"

"Higher-dimensional stuff bro. You wouldn't understand." He said as he waved me off.

"... Alright bro." I muttered, massaging my eyes—half exasperated at the dismissal, and half aware he was probably telling the truth about me not understanding.

Nothing about the situation made sense to me, to be honest. But I was already dead, and not exactly in the mood to question the logic of cosmic publishing nor the machinations of afterlife too hard.

"But why me?" I glanced at him again, more exasperated than suspicious. Like I said, I wasn't exactly the most outstanding guy out there.

To my dismay, he actually just shrugged.

"Our algorithm handles that. As far as I know, the basic requirements are knowing about the story of the world you're being sent into, and not having a boring personality... Beyond that, what the algorithm searches for in the people to be selected is unknown even to me."

"I see..."

Whatever it had seen in me, I had no idea.

But that was as far as my curiosity and suspicion were willing to go.

It was time to surrender to the fantasy.

"Alright, so... about my wish?" I asked, my eyes growing hopeful.

The ROB waved his hand side to side. "Nothing outrageous that might make the story boring."

"...That's a bit ambiguous."

"I'll warn you when something isn't allowed."

I nodded.

'Guess it's time to make the most important decision of my future life.'

My feet involuntarily began carrying me back and forth as I sank into thought, my mind wandering through references of wishes people had made in similar situations, whether in original stories or fanfics, not wanting to bother coming up with something too complex on my own.

And the first thing that came to mind—

"Mahoraga adaptation?" I asked, looking at the ROB hopefully.

I was a JJK fan who didn't know how to read. But I was pretty sure Mahoraga's adaptation ability was busted. Don't ask me for the specifics, though—like I said, I don't know how to read.

"Hmm..."

He paused to actually consider it for a moment, before shaking his head.

"While it may be fairly interesting... in that world, with an ability like that, if you find yourself a good mentor, your power level will skyrocket. I want a product of regular length, not a one-shot where you get taken in by Garp and become the strongest in the sea within a single day."

I briefly considered pointing out that not having a good wish would make his product even shorter when I died powerlessly.... but judging by his whole extra-dimensional energy, I thought better of it.

"I could give you a weakened version, like—"

"Forget it. Let me think of something else." I waved him off.

Adaptation only worked for me if it was as fast and thorough as Mahoraga's. I wasn't a masochist, and I had an entire wish—settling for a watered-down version just because I couldn't think of anything better felt stupid.

So, adaptation on a pin for now. I could always circle back.

'So... what else?'

My eyes drifted aimlessly as I thought, feet carrying me back and forth again. Countless ideas passed through my head, most of them rejected immediately by my subconscious before becoming a proper thought.

Some, howewer, stood out the most, and prompted me to present them to the ROB, testing the waters.

The feedback wasn't good.

A Gamer system? No issues with the power level, but he said it was overused. Other fictional abilities—the Sharingan and whatnot? Too many were Adaptation-tier, so he offered to nerf them, or dismissed them for the same "overused" reason.

Eventually, frustrated, I couldn't help but vent at him.

"Do you even want a fun product?! You keep blocking everything I suggest!"

He sighed—apparently not even angry at the outburst and appearing understanding.

"Listen, there's a fine line between what's overpowered but fun, and what's just broken and ultimately boring. Sorry, but this is my source of income. I can't afford a faulty product."

I groaned.

"Then what kind of cheat ability would even fit your taste? Suggest something yourself and I'll tell you whether I like it." I said, pointing at him daringly.

He didn't look very enthusiastic about that—probably used to having the reincarnators do the thinking—but then his eyes widened slightly, eyebrows drawing together.

"Cheat ability, huh...?" he muttered, glancing down in thought, before snapping his gaze back up to me. "I got it! How about this...?"

He waited for a second, likely to increase the dramatic effect or something.

Then, he spoke again.

"How about—a hacker system!"

Both arms shot up, extending wide as if making a grand revelation.

I, on contrast to his excitement, blinked slowly.

"...Like, with commands and stuff?" I asked, wincing slightly as I wasn't exactly a fan of informatics.

He shook his head vigorously. "I mean the X-ray, Kill Aura, Aimbot, Wallhack, or Godmode—that kind of hacks!"

My unenthusiasm faltered at that.

I wasn't exactly proud of it, but in my younger years I had been a user of such game "aiders." And I remembered it being fun as hell.

For me, not for the other people.

I apologize for that.

But anyway—if that were brought into reality... wouldn't it be absolutely absurd?

"Hmm..."

I thought about it for a moment, tilting my head left and right as I weighed it against the other options still sitting on the pin board.

However, in the end, because nothing else seemed as fun as literally cheating reality, I decided to go for it.

"Let's go with that, then."

He gave me a firm nod and pointed a hand at me. "This will be good, I'm already looking forward to see how this plays out. Please don't die to quickly."

A portal opened beneath me without warning, and it began pulling me in before I could react.

"H-hold on...!"

I called out as I tumbled into it, but the pull didn't slow even slightly.

Was he seriously already done with me?!

"AT LEAST LET ME SKIP THE INFANT PHASE, I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MY ASS WIPEEEEEED!"

My voice echoed desperately as the ROB's figure shrank away into the distance.

Please let him have heard me.

...

°

°

°

| Years later, Shimotsuki Village, Isshin Dojo: |

...

"Sei! Sei! Sei! Sei!"

The cries of dozens of children swinging bamboo swords filled the dojo in a steady rhythm.

At the front, a man with slit eyes and a low ponytail watched them with a calm, unreadable expression, occasionally giving a faint nod.

The constant shouts and repetitive motions blended together into something strangely soothing.

Until something broke it.

"...?"

One of the kids abruptly stopped swinging, lowering his bamboo sword as he blinked several times—like someone snapping out of a trance.

The man—Koushirou, the owner of the dojo—called out to him. "What's wrong, Dan?"

"Uh... nothing, sensei."

The boy shook his head and went back to swinging.

Koushirou watched him a moment longer. Seeing nothing overtly wrong though, he eventually returned his attention to the group.

Meanwhile, Dan sweatdropped as he rejoined the rhythm of the class.

'Talk about an inconvenient moment to regain my memories.'

The sudden influx of another life's worth of memories was making his head spin. But being in the middle of class, surrounded by Koushirou's sharp instructions and the endless "Sei! Sei!" around him, he decided to ignore it and keep swinging.

"Sei! Sei! Sei! Sei!"

Class continued without a hitch.

Sweat poured down the kids' faces as they gasped for breath, forced to repeat the same motion over and over without rest. Dan was no better—his breathing grew rougher with every passing minute.

But as the training wore on, his eyes regained a little clarity. The unrelenting rhythm was helping shove the matter of 'oh, I suddenly regained past-life memories' into the background, sparing him the worst of it.

By the time Koushirou finally dismissed them, Dan's arms were shaking so violently that he dropped the bamboo sword the instant the command was given.

He stood there a moment, chest heaving—then picked the sword back up and placed it neatly where it belonged. After giving Koushirou the appropriate bow, he walked out of the dojo without joining the chatter of the other apprentices.

A few minutes later, he wandered to the outskirts of a nearby forest, found a tree with a decent patch of shade, and collapsed against it—letting his head fall back against the trunk.

'Well... now it's better.'

He stared up at the canopy of leaves and light filtering through them, looking relieved.

The intense focus from the lesson had helped settle the dizziness that had come from two sets of memories—this body's and the reincarnator's—colliding and mixing together. Now, both seemed to have properly arranged themselves in his mind, their order clear.

'Though... what the hell is this?'

Even with the memories sorted, the problem hadn't fully resolved itself.

A crisis of identity had risen in their place. A quiet conflict between two perspectives, each vying to be the dominant one.

On one side: a nine-year-old orphaned kid taken in by fishermen, trained in a dojo, who had just awoken to memories of a distant, otherworldly life and the promise of power beyond anything he could have imagined.

On the other: a grown man who had died, met a strange story-collecting being, been promised extraordinary abilities—only to wake up inside a child's body with an entirely new set of memories layered over his own.

Even though it would be easy to assume the man's perspective would win out through sheer experience, the child's raw sense of self—his ownership of this body and this life—made the convergence of both personalities more like oil and water than a simple takeover.

Was he the man who had been reincarnated into a fictional world, only to end up as a child?

Or was he the kid who had just received a flood of foreign memories threatening to overtake who he was?

His mind wandered over the question for a while, searching through both sets of memories for some kind of answer.

He looked at the child's memories—full of wonder, excitement, and a simplicity that made the whole world feel manageable.

Then he looked at the man's—experienced, guarded, and far more complex, carrying an awareness of intricacies that had never once crossed the child's mind.

The more he thought, the more both sides seemed to push against each other.

At least—

-Thud-

—Until he lightly knocked the back of his head against the tree. Not hard. He wasn't trying to die.

That small jolt of pain seemed to cut through the noise.

"I'm both," he said at last.

And as if those words had triggered something, everything began to settle.

They were foreign to each other, yes. But the ROB had said it himself.

This was a reincarnation, which meant both were the same person.

And with that, the question of dominance dissolved.

The man's eyes opened to the world anew, seeing it through the lens of a child for the first time. His sense of adventure—long dulled by reason and cold logic—flickered back to life, burning a little brighter than before.

The kid, meanwhile, began to grow. The older set of memories reached out to him, showing him the world beyond the village: the remarkable people who waited out there, and the countless things he had never even known existed.

Devil Fruits, Pirates of cataclysmic strength, treasures beyond comprehension.

And slowly, just like he'd muttered, he became both.

Not the man, and not the kid.

But something new, forged from both.

The new Dan.

Clarity returned to his eyes. He let out a long, annoyed sigh.

"I suppose it's my own fault for asking him to skip the infancy years..." he muttered, rubbing his face. "But he could have at least warned me something like this was going to happen."

Groaning, he shook his head and moved on. No point in dwelling on it.

With the identity crisis behind him and his breathing finally back to normal, he turned to the next most important thing.

"System?" he called.

And sure enough, the moment the word left his mouth—

[Ding!]

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Current Infamy Tier: Starter

▸[Current Bounty: 0 / 500K]

▸[NP: 0]

Equipped Passive Hacks [0/1]

▸None

Equipped Active Hacks [0/1]

▸None

Equipped Script

▸None

───────────────────

≡[LIST OF AVAILABLE HACKS]

[Passive]

▸None

[Active]

▸None

[Items]

▸None

[Scripts]

▸None

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Dan smiled pleasantly as he looked over everything displayed before him.

Until—

"Pause, what do you mean I don't have any hacks?!"

...

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-To Be Continued...-

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[The Synonym]

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[System]
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...

"What do you mean I don't have any hacks?!"

Dan bellowed, staring in disbelief at his system screen—which contained nothing but a floating display and a whole lot of empty space.

He had been promised a system built around hacks, so why wasn't there a single one to speak of?

He was certain he'd at least start with something. Had he somehow made a mistake with the wish?

Fortunately, the system moved to save him from his growing despair before he could spiral too far into it.

[Sensing memory awakening—The user has been given the Hacker's Starter Pack!]

[Gained the SpeedyGains Passive!]

[Gained the FullBright Passive!]

[Gained the TreasureFinder Active!]

[Gained the item: Sunglasses of Anonymity!]

[Gained the Script: AutoExist!]

[Gained the Script: AutoWalk!]

[Gained the Script: AutoFish!]

A string of notifications rang out one after another, and just like that, his system screen was a little fuller—much to Dan's still-baffled expression.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Current Infamy Tier: Starter

▸[Current Bounty: 0 / 500K]

▸[NP: 0]

Equipped Passive Hacks [0/1]

▸ None

Equipped Active Hacks [0/1]

▸ None

Equipped Script

▸ None

───────────────────

≡[LIST OF AVAILABLE HACKS]

[Passive]

▸ SpeedyGains

▸ Full Bright

[Active]

▸ TreasureFinder

[Items]

▸ Sunglasses of Anonymity

[Scripts]

▸ AutoExist

▸ AutoWalk

▸ AutoFish

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...

"... I guess the system just forgot to do its part," he muttered, eyeing the rapid response with a wry look.

Sighing, he turned his gaze back to the newly updated screen, eyes gleaming with excitement.

This was it—his actual system. A genuine cheat on reality, the kind that only fictional protagonists get to have.

Feeling like he might punch something out of sheer excitement, he tapped on the first skill's description.

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≡[Passive Hack: SpeedyGains]

▸ Multiplies the results of your training by 2.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

His gave a slow nod, his face looking a bit lost but otherwise content.

'That's pretty good, I guess.'

He had been hoping for something that gave him immediate power, but a multiplier on his training results wasn't something to scoff at either. The concern, naturally, was his base talent. If it was poor enough, a multiplier of two might just bring him up to the level of an average person.

He gazed at the sky, raising an eyebrow in doubt.

'Nah, that guy was making a power fantasy, not a masochist journey... probably.'

Hoping for the best, he moved on to the next skill.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Passive Hack: Full Bright]

▸ You can see perfectly in the dark, as if it were daytime.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

"...Okay," he muttered in a tone that was equal parts dejected and exasperated.

On the bright side, it wasn't a bad ability. It was, technically speaking, a superpower. Though he was fairly sure that with enough training, some people in his old world had probably managed something similar without needing a literal cheat.

"Whatever." He moved on.

The next skill was listed as an active hack, which he assumed meant he'd have to trigger it manually instead of it running in the background.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Active Hack: TreasureFinder]

▸ Grants the user the ability to detect and see valuables in their surroundings from any point, no matter how hidden they might be. Even if they are 6 feet under, they will see them.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

He frowned, mouth opening to complain—before closing it again as he reconsidered.

"For a free hack, I suppose it's not bad. I think, it's actually something I used to want as a kid. To know when there's money dropped somewhere, or where it's hidden."

He hadn't been a particularly innocent child, that was for sure.

In a world filled of buried treasures all around, the hack would probably have its uses—maybe.

At the very least, it would serve as a reliable backup for pocket change whenever he was short on cash, whether by finding dropped valuables or, well... other methods.

With SpeedyGains behind him, he'd probably pick up pick pocketing pretty fast if he went for it.

"I guess my true colors are finally coming out now that I have power," he muttered, shaking his head with a wry look.

His eyes moved to the next item—and he paused. It was listed as an item, not a hack.

'So there are items in this?' He thought, eyeing the screen with a curious look.

He tapped the icon.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Hacked Item: Sunglasses of Anonymity]

▸ Sunglasses that hide your identity perfectly, somehow. No matter if you're standing right in front of them, wearing the same clothes—so long as you have these sunglasses on, they won't recognize you.

▸ Warning: The identity you take on whenever you put on the sunglasses remains the same even if you take them off and put them on again. Meaning that whatever criminal charges or relationships you have with people while wearing them persist until you remove them.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

He let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Alright, this one is outright a tool for committing crimes," he muttered, excited about something finally feeling busted to a degree.

This was it, the essence of having hacks. Tilting things unfairly in your favor.

The other hacks were good, but they were just minor superpowers without a real absurdity.

This, on the other hand, was literally messing with people's perception of him, making him virtually unrecognizable so long as he had them on.

Still, for this good of an object to be in the starter pack... he suddenly had the feeling that the system's motives wouldn't be specially... saintly.

Shrugging and moving on, his gaze shifted to the last gifts he had received.

"Next are... the scripts?"

He opened the first of the three.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Script: AutoExist]

▸ Find yourself with nothing to do, waiting for something, bored out of your mind? With this script, you can automatically exist and let time pass on its own.

Warning: The body won't do anything while it is active, even if you're spoken to, called out, or if insects crawl onto you. The script will only terminate at the specified time or if the system detects danger.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

"...The hell?"

Baffled by the outrageously simple—and arguably useless—reward, he tapped through the remaining two in quick succession.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Script: AutoWalk]

▸ Do you want to get somewhere, but find it a pain to do so? Let the script make your body automatically walk to your destination, so when you wake up, you're already there!

Warning: The system isn't responsible for calluses or injuries on your feet if the destination specified is too far away. The body won't respond to external stimulus unless the host's life is perceived to be in danger.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Script: AutoFish]

▸ Fishing—a life skill that for some means the difference between starving and feasting, but undeniably a patience-testing one. With this script, your body will automatically handle the whole process and reel in a good catch for you.

Warning: The body won't respond to external stimulus unless the host's life is perceived to be in danger. Depending on the nearby water, fewer or no fish at all may be caught. Depending on the nearby water, dangerous life forms might be caught, in which case the script will be terminated.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

...

The finger he'd been using to tap the screen dropped. His gaze went vacant.

"What is this starter pack, man?"

Though, on second thought, It was called a starter pack for a reason.

Heaving a long, long, long sigh, he glared at the screen again.

"I guess, bro..." Dan muttered, massaging his temples with a thoroughly done expression.

Though, to be fair, the fishing one wasn't that bad. He was very unskilled at fishing, so at least the script would know what it was doing. And having a steady food source was never something to dismiss, especially on a planet covered mostly in water.

Having made his peace with the starter pack, he shifted his attention to what seemed like the most important part of the system.

"Infamy tier, NP, and a bounty goal..." he observed with a curious look before addressing the screen directly. "System, explain these to me."

...

There was no answer.

His eyebrow creased. He looked back at the screen and noticed a small "?" icon tucked in the corner.

"Oh."

He tapped it.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Here's a brief introduction to the way this system works.]

You have been granted the Hacker System—a tool that allows you to purchase and equip real-world hacks: passive enhancements, active abilities, automated scripts, and bugged items that defy conventional logic.

▸How you unlock things:

The system's catalogue is gated behind Infamy Tiers, which advance as your Bounty reaches certain thresholds. A higher tier does not give you hacks automatically; it only makes new hacks available for purchase. You still have to buy them. However, advancing tiers can grant you more slots to equip multiple hacks at once.

There can't be more than one script running, so the slots for this category are limited to one.

▸How you buy things:

The currency for buying hacks is NP: An acronym for Notoriety Points.

These are earned through acts that generate genuine fear and infamy among the population. The more people who witness or hear of your acts, and the more they fear you, the more NP you earn.

However, consequently, the stronger that the hacks and items available at the store are, the more expensive they will be. So thread carefully on your NP balance, and plan your purchases smartly.

▸What you can equip:

You have:

Passive Hacks that run constantly as long as they are equipped.

Active Hacks that must be consciously triggered once equipped. Some might have durations and cooldowns.

Scripts that automate a physical process while you are not fully present, often with extreme efficiency.

Items that can be bought multiple times, or unique artifacts that can only be bought once. These don't need slots; you can take out as many as you want or keep them stored in the system.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

"I see..."

Dan leaned back fully against the tree, staring up at the rustling leaves above with a troubled look. "So it's one of those systems—the mischievous kind. I guess I'm bound to become a pirate, then."

That, or a bandit. But you and I both know that wasn't happening.

"Build infamy, huh? Save for the sunglasses, with these starting hacks kicking off a criminal career is going to be a nightmare," His eyes drifted to SpeedyGains. "...Though I suppose that's what this is here for. To let me have a training arc before the adventure into crime begins."

Come to think of it, he really had gotten lucky being reborn here—Shimotsuki Village, of all places. The same village where Zoro grew up.

It was a place that seemed untouched by the kind of threats that plagued the rest of the world, judging by how smoothly Zoro's own childhood had apparently gone here. And with the dojo's existence, it offered more than safety.

It offered a foundation to grow on before the real journey started.

A literal starting village, in every sense of the phrase.

The perfect place to hone his skills before setting off to become the world's greatest criminal.

As the thought settled, a slight frown crossed his face.

"Well, I've got the system and everything... but am I actually capable of becoming someone like that?"

In both lives, common was probably the most accurate word to describe him. Suddenly placing before him the path of becoming one of the most wanted figures in the world felt strangely disconnected from how he'd always lived.

'If so, then why...'

He lifted both hands, still seated, and slowly clenched them.

'Why do I feel so motivated?'

He had the system and it promised great power in exchange for building infamy, yes. But even setting that aside, the eagerness he felt didn't quite fit the person he'd always assumed himself to be.

To have the entire world against him, and to feel not even the faintest trace of hesitation about it... something was different.

Maybe the fusion of both perspectives had brought something forward that had always been buried—some part of himself that years of following the expected path had kept quiet.

Maybe he had his self from this world to thank for that.

Either way, it was a good thing.

"Alright," He grinned, clenching his fist, and pushing himself off the ground to get back to his feet. "If it's the greatest criminal in the world you want—you'll have it! Hahahaha!"

His laughter rang through the trees without restraint, loud and unbothered by how unhinged it probably looked. Behind him, someone passing through the forest paused at the sound.

A girl with blue hair, a bamboo sword resting over her shoulder, gave him a flat look.

"What a weirdo."

...

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: I honestly didn't know whether to put this on NSFW, since I'm still not sure about whether I'll do those kind of scenes, and if I do, it'll be way further ahead, when he ain't a brat no more.

Though, since I've already put this on the SFW section, might as well just suck it up, and not do them altogether.

—That or I can just write the NSFW scenes and leave them on my patreon so they work as bait.

Well, I'll see.)

 

[The Synonym]

────────────────────────
[Fishing Powerhouse]
────────────────────────

...

Later that day, Dan returned to his humble abode.

And he did mean humble—a small wooden room more reminiscent of a badly built storage closet than a child's bedroom.

The smell wasn't particularly pleasant either. A pair of buckets filled with fish sat in the corner, making the source fairly obvious.

Aside from that, the room had little else to speak of. No furniture beyond a crudely made straw bed—itchy, and occasionally host to insects crawling through it—along with a handful of belongings that had belonged to the old Dan, and even those were few.

But while the amenities left something to be desired compared to what he'd had access to in his old world, he knew it was the price of having a ceiling over his head in the first place.

He was, after all, an orphan.

Years ago, when he had been around the age of four, the village had suffered a pirate invasion. Many villagers died before the pirates were finally put down by the more experienced swordsmen—his parents among them.

The old Dan had been left alone with no idea how to survive or where to go, until a group of fishermen took pity on him and brought him in.

Though, of course, with the intent of teaching him the craft. He was, in a way, an investment—someone to help with the hard work once he grew older.

Not that he resented them for deciding that without asking. That was simply how things worked in this world, where there was no school waiting, no university, and certainly no desk job after graduation. In small traditional villages like this, the parents' trade passed down to their children as naturally as breathing.

In Dan's case, that meant becoming a fisherman once he was old and experienced enough.

As for why he had ended up at the dojo alongside all that—there were several reasons: the village's tradition, the basic expectation of strength in a world where pirates roamed the seas, and the original Dan's own persistent pleas to the one currently taking care of him to enroll him in Koushirou's classes.

In the end, the man had agreed, and Dan had become one more sword-swinging kid in the dojo, well on his way to being a background character in Zoro's backstory.

At least, until today.

Now, he held something that could take him well beyond that.

Sitting on his straw bed, Dan let out a wry laugh.

'Had it not been for the system's goals, I probably would have tried to keep canon from diverting too much while doing my own thing in the background... but if I'm going to become the biggest criminal in the world, staying out of the way entirely is basically impossible.'

He eyed his system screen, mouth curling with amusement.

"So I guess I'm just going to do whatever."

-Knock, knock, knock-

The door rattled gently at the sound, and Dan turned with a raised eyebrow.

A moment later, it swung open, revealing a bald middle-aged man with an unkempt beard stepping inside, a pair of fishing rods balanced over his shoulder.

"You're back from practice, Dan? Good, let's get moving—the boat's about to take off."

He tossed one of the rods over without much ceremony. Dan caught it easily and let his gaze linger on the man for a moment.

'Old Shun, the fisherman who took me in,' the foreign part of Dan's mind thought, pulling up the realization from his local memories.

It was a strange thing, now that both perspectives had merged. He knew people and places, yet still felt the need to reassess them for a second—as if confirming what he already knew.

Old Shun was the boss of the fishing crew Dan had grown up with. He owned the small cabin Dan slept in, and while he couldn't quite be called an adoptive parent, he did allow Dan to eat lunch with him and was the one paying for his dojo classes. He was also the one in charge of eventually passing the craft of fishing down to him.

Sighing, Dan gathered what little else he might need and followed old Shun as the man headed toward the village's bay.

Minutes later, they were boarding a large boat docked at the water, five or more hands already moving about the deck in a hurried rhythm.

As their feet hit the wooden planks and the cold, fishy air of the ocean reached them, a burly man tightening ropes looked up to greet them.

"Are we ready to take off, old Shun?"

The old man gave a brief nod without a word.

Nodding back, the man then turned to Dan, a slightly mocking grin spreading across his face. "Well, little Dan—how was training today? You strong enough to protect us from pirates yet?"

Old Shun stopped walking and gave him a firm whack on the head. "Focus on your task, dumbass. I don't want any of these ropes loose by the time we're out at sea."

"Ouch—I'm just asking, boss." The man rubbed the spot and shrugged. "Why even let the kid go to that fraudulent place instead of using that time to learn the craft?" He proceeded to imitate the stance and cries of the dojo kids, swinging an invisible sword. "Sei, sei, sei—bah, what's that gonna do when pirates actually attack? I'm telling you, old Shun, that place is a scam. I'd beat that Koushirou guy easily. If you want to teach the little runt how to fight, the street is the only real teacher!"

Old Shun just shook his head, then turned to Dan and gestured for him to follow.

"Don't listen to this dumbass. It's that exact attitude that gets people like him killed. Learn everything they're willing to teach you there."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" The man's voice complained from behind them.

Shun waved him off without looking back and kept walking. Dan followed with a quiet nod.

Soon, the whole crew was busy preparing for departure—checking the rigging and sails for wear, confirming the anchor was properly raised, adjusting ropes and pulleys, and readying the sails to catch the wind once they were underway.

Minutes later, they were out on the water, the sea rocking them gently as the sun beat down without mercy.

Once they found what looked like a promising spot, the anchor went down, and every man took up his fishing rod along the sides of the boat.

Dan, however, stood in the middle of the deck, staring at his fishing rod with unusual intensity.

Old Shun noticed him from his spot next to him by the rail and raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong, kid? Did I give you a faulty rod?"

"No. I'm just feeling very focused."

"...What in the hell does that mean?" The old man gave him a flat look.

Dan offered a slight smile and started making his way toward an empty spot at the rail. "I think I'm about to enter a trance of pure focus. So don't worry if I stop answering when you call me."

"...Hah?"

Ignoring the incredulous looks from the rest of the crew, he settled at the edge of the boat and readied his rod.

'Alright. System, equip the AutoFish script for thirty minu—'

...

°

°

°

| Thirty minutes later... |

...

Dan's eyes—blank and distant until a moment ago—suddenly blinked back to life, as if he'd just surfaced from a dream.

"The hell?" He shook his head and rolled his shoulder, wincing at the soreness running through it, and set the fishing rod aside.

Still dazed, he looked around—and found the entire crew staring at him with expressions somewhere between disbelief and awe.

"...?"

His gaze wandered, searching for the reason—until he found it right beside him.

The basket that was supposed to hold his catch was filled well past the brim; the overflow of fish sprawled across the deck around it, having simply run out of room.

He glanced over at the rest of the crew's baskets. Not one of them was even a fifth full.

He had out-caught all of them combined.

'Damn.'

He took back every ounce of pessimism he'd felt when he first got the script. This was genuinely extraordinary.

Old Shun stepped closer, crouching down beside him. "You finally snapped out of it. I called you more than a few times while you were at it, but you didn't answer once."

"Uh... like I said. Very focused."

To his surprise, Shun nodded slowly, as if something had clicked into place for him.

"I've only ever heard about it in stories... I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes."

The burly man from earlier approached, stroking his beard with an expression caught somewhere between amazed and reverent.

"Old Shun... you can't possibly mean...?"

Shun nodded again, his face settling into something grave and solemn.

"The legendary state of mind—attainable only by talents so rare they appear once in a billion..." He let the words hang for a moment before finishing them. "Rod Enlightenment."

The small crew gasped and pressed closer.

"Him? A one-in-a-billion talent?"

"Rod Enlightenment... I've heard it's the ultimate state in which soul and sea become one. A fisherman so in tune with the water that the fish come to his hook through nothing but pure will—where the whole world fades away, and all that remains is him, the water, and the fish."

"Little Dan is capable of that? It must be a mistake!"

"Didn't you see him? We shook him, yelled at him—he didn't respond to a thing. And the fish were coming in so fast it looked like they were swimming straight onto his hook of their own free will!"

"Impossible!"

Amid the rising chatter and disbelief, Dan stared at the scene with a flat expression, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face.

'How did it end up like this?'

Before he could even begin to untangle that question, old Shun knelt in front of him and placed both hands on his shoulders, staring at him with an expression of absolute conviction.

"Dan. When I took you in, I thought you were a pitiful but ordinary kid who could barely hold a fishing rod. I was wrong." His voice dropped to something close to reverence. "You are a one-in-a-billion talent, Dan. You, who possesses Rod Enlightenment, are destined to rise to the very top of the fishing world..."

He let the pause stretch—then let it out like a declaration:

"YOU CAN BECOME FISHERMAN KING!"

'HELP!'

...

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: I'm just having fun here, don't worry about his goal suddenly being to be the king of the fishermen.)

 

[Despacitoleo]

Hahahahaha this is amazing

 

[Yohnos]

This is fun, he doesn't have to be a pirate to spread fear, Marines are scary enough

 

[The Synonym]

────────────────────────
[The Moss Kid]
────────────────────────

| The next day, Dan's POV: |

...

"Sei! Sei! Sei!"

'Hmm...'

"Sei! Sei! Sei!"

'Hmm...'

"Sei! Sei! Sei!"

Okay, I genuinely don't feel any different. Not in the slightest bit.

I had expected some kind of enlightenment to wash over me the moment I swung the sword—a flash of clarity, a surge of strength, anything. But it feels exactly the same as yesterday.

Wait... Don't tell me I forgot to equip it?

...

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Current Infamy Tier: Starter

▸[Current Bounty: 0 / 500K]

▸[NP: 0]

Equipped Passive Hacks [1/1]

▸ SpeedyGains

Equipped Active Hacks [0/1]

▸ None

Equipped Script

▸ None

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

...

Nope, there it is. It should be working perfectly.

'Then what the heck am I missing?'

I tilted my head slightly as I kept swinging, waiting for any sort of enlightenment to settle over me at any minute.

After yesterday's fiasco on the boat, I had become acutely aware of just how extraordinary my system actually was. All it had allegedly done was make me a super-fisherman—and yet it had still felt genuinely amazing, like I had a real superpower.

Even if that superpower was fishing at superspeed.

'Better stop thinking about it, or the more I'll feel like a fool for getting so excited over that.'

Fortunately, the fish weren't the only benefit my newfound abilities had brought me. Old man Shun had been so thrilled about the whole "legendary fisherman" business that he'd gone ahead and upped my allowance. As in, from zero to a thousand Beli per week.

So now I could actually buy things… In due time.

A thousand wasn't a fortune—but the fishermen didn't rake in much on a monthly basis anyway, so for a kid, it was decent. And if my skill kept boosting their daily haul, I'd consider asking for more.

I wasn't a pushover… Most of the time.

Nodding to myself, I kept swinging the sword—having completely forgotten to actually check on SpeedyGains and whether it was showing any results yet.

And while I was doing that—

—Shaa!—

The dojo door swung open hard, and a green-haired kid stumbled through it carrying an armful of bamboo swords, eyes sweeping the room with a look somewhere between frantic and annoyed.

"Sensei, where's Kuina?!"

Everyone paused and turned to look at him. I did too, though I already knew exactly who he was the moment he walked in.

'That's... Zoro.'

Roronoa Zoro. Part of the main cast. Luffy's first crew member. Aspiring best swordsman in the world. A compass's worst nightmare. Probably the most fangirled character in the whole series, second-biggest chest as well, and certified minority hunter.

Also—and looking at him from a less otherwordly lens—a prodigious kid who had arrived at this dojo before me and shot up in strength at an alarming pace, quickly narrowing the gap between himself and the dojo's reigning genius. Kuina.

Well, narrowing wasn't quite the right word. He was still getting his ass handed to him on a daily basis.

If I recalled correctly, the two of them were somewhere around their 1100th duel by now—all victories belonging to Kuina. Zoro had already been at it for nearly an entire year by the time I joined the dojo. The day I walked in, they had just finished their 1018th

To the old me, he had been an untouchable star. Living proof of what raw, undiluted talent looked like. And while the talent was undeniable—since he was already beating adults despite his age—it would be wrong to pretend he didn't train like a man possessed as well.

The old me had never seen that side of it. To him, the green-haired kid had simply been lucky, gifted, and strangely fixated on losing to Kuina.

But now I knew better. He was a talented but also relentlessly hard-working person—who also happened to be strangely fixated on losing to Kuina.

'Pfft.'

While I cringily laughed at my own jokes, upon hearing the commotion, Koushirou glanced up from the class, focusing on Zoro unhurriedly. "You're finally here. She's practicing behind the dojo." He jerked a thumb toward the back without breaking his calm expression.

Zoro gave a quick nod, already turning, and scrambled back out the door—probably on his way to add another loss to his tally.

I watched him go, my sword slowing slightly as my thoughts wandered somewhere less cheerful.

'It was at their 2001st duel, wasn't it? At least the number is easy to remember.' I mused, picturing the images from the anime.

The day Zoro forged his rivalry with Kuina into something deeper—a promise made between two people dead set on reaching the top—and also the same day when that very promise was shattered once Kuina had an accident.

The sheer abruptness of it, right after such a seemingly fated promise between rivals… It was so anticlimactic that it was almost comical. Almost.

We're serious people here, so we won't laugh.

And all of it caused by the most fearsome enemy known to man. Down D. Stairs.

Thinking of such a terrible force of nature, my mind drifted naturally toward my own path.

'Should I do something about it?'

My goal was to become a criminal—a spectacularly notorious one. But that didn't mean I had to be a bad person. That was a choice I could make, sure, but this world's government was corrupt enough that being genuinely evil wasn't even a requirement to become a great criminal. Rough up some rotten marines or nobles, and done—I'd have myself a perfectly respectable head price. Take it a step further and pick a fight with the Celestial Dragons, and I could raise it without a shred of guilt, by leaps and bounds at that.

I'd probably have to do some questionable things here and there out of necessity, but for the most part, my war was going to be with the World Government. That was enough to keep me busy.

Anyway. Where was I?

Right. Since I didn't actually have to become a villain, there was no reason to just let the girl die. Especially not in such an anticlimactic way.

'Don't laugh, don't laugh.'

The timing wasn't a concern. The date was clear enough that I didn't have to worry about being caught off guard. The event happened after their 2001st duel, and we were currently somewhere in the 1100's, which gave me roughly a year to prepare.

When the day came, all I had to do was pay attention.

Simple enough.

Until then—grind. Build the foundation for my swordsmanship and the backbone that was gonna let me soar these seas without fear, while slowly brewing plans of action for when my criminal career finally kicks off.

I had a few ideas already forming in the back of my mind, but without the strength to back them up, they were just daydreams.

So, first things first: Get stronger.

With that settled firmly in my head, I swung harder than before, feeling something sharpen in my chest with every bead of sweat that rolled down my temple.

This world shall know Hax.

...

°

°

°

| 3rd Person POV: |

...

'The morale seems high today,' Koushirou thought, his gaze moving steadily across the class as they moved in unison to the rhythm of their fighting cry.

He gave a quiet, satisfied nod. The kids had a tendency to slack without realizing it—swinging robotically, with motion emptied of intent, waiting for results to arrive on their own.

And to be fair to them, results would come regardless. Even if they possessed an utter lack of talent in the more insightful part of swordsmanship; through their current repetitive training, the motions would be refined with time, and the muscles being applied would develop alongside them.

But to truly improve, they needed more than that. They had to understand the motion they were performing, seek to refine it, and adapt until they finally reached something worth calling mastery. The difference in growth between mindless repetition and intentional practice was staggering.

He had told them as much, more times than he could count. But he also understood the reality of it. This was an endlessly monotonous task, and unless a child was consumed by it the way Zoro or Kuina were, finding genuine joy in swinging a sword up and down over and over again was a near impossibility.

Most of them were here because their parents had sent them, or because the village expected it. In their minds, this was just one more thing standing between them and the rest of their day.

He let out a quiet breath through his nose—not in disdain, but in the mild helplessness of a man who had made peace with human nature long ago.

At least, that was where his thoughts had settled—until something at the edge of his vision made his eyebrows lift.

'That's... Dan,' Koushirou thought, taking a moment to place the name. The boy was still relatively new to the dojo, having joined only a month prior.

His eyes, already narrow, narrowed a fraction further as he watched the boy's form.

Something was different. He couldn't immediately name it.

The technique itself was the same—appropriate for someone still settling into the foundational stage, whose body hadn't yet fully developed the build for swordsmanship. Nothing obviously wrong.

But something...

'Is that...?'

The clarity came a moment later, his eyebrows lifting slightly as it clicked into place.

The skill level was roughly unchanged. But the disposition behind it wasn't. For anyone else watching the class, it likely wouldn't register—but Koushirou had been teaching for long enough that reading the difference between a dozen kids at once had become second nature to him.

Dan was learning faster.

He couldn't say exactly how. But he could sense it. The boy was picking up on small, almost imperceptible adjustments to his technique—smoothing out the arc, taking just a little more weight off the wrong joints—and integrating them in real time. Sometimes he slipped back into his old habits, which was entirely normal when someone didn't yet know what they were reaching for. But the direction of movement was unmistakably there.

Slow, yes. But swordsmanship was slow by nature. Forging a swordsman was no different from forging a sword—a process of constant and gradual refinement.

Even so, for that slowness... Dan was moving through it quickly.

If he kept at this pace, Koushirou wouldn't be surprised if he caught up to the rest of his peers within a month or so. Not merely because of the speed of improvement, but because of something else Koushirou had noticed in the boy's expression.

Focus. Real, deliberate focus.

Not obsession like in Zoro or Kuina's case, but something quieter and more grounded. Dan wasn't doing this out of boredom or obligation.

He was training with purpose.

He was seeking to learn.

'A curious sight.' He mused, hand massaging his chin in interest.

With the right guidance, it was hard to say how far that kind of focus might take him. Perhaps not to the heights Zoro and Kuina were reaching for—but a very capable swordsman, certainly. Especially now, while his foundation was still being laid.

'Still, I'm the teacher of everyone. I can't stop the lesson because one student needs extra attention,' Koushirou reminded himself, and turned his attention back to the class as a whole.

He watched them for a while longer—making small corrections here and there, his voice carrying evenly across the dojo—until he found his gaze drifting back to Dan again, drawn in despite himself.

He lasted about three more minutes before he gave in.

"Dan."

The boy's sword slowed, and he turned, his expression that of someone worried they might have done something wrong.

He wasn't wrong to look like that. Which was exactly why Koushirou had spoken up.

"Straighten your posture and let your shoulders rotate smoothly through the motion. Even out your breathing as well."

"Ah... yes, sensei," Dan gave a short nod, then turned back and adjusted his stance—a little clumsily at first, working through the corrections with slow but steady progress.

A few snickers passed through the nearby students at the sight of him being corrected on something as basic as a straightforward swing. Koushirou's gaze moved briefly over them, and the sounds stopped.

He returned his attention to Dan.

The improvement was immediate. Not perfect—it never was on the first try—but the motion was measurably cleaner, and it was already refining itself further with each repetition.

Koushirou found himself thinking of Zoro and Kuina.

Zoro, who had never needed much instruction and who simply threw himself at the task with relentless fury until his body worked out the answers on its own.

Kuina, who had learned most of what she knew by watching adults fight long before she was old enough to do so herself—absorbing the skill and refining it like a dry sponge thirsty for more knowledge.

Between the two of them, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to actually teach a talented student. To give a correction to a listening pupil and see it take hold in real time.

'Interesting.'

...

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: Here we see the effects of the SpeedyGains hack. It might not be perceptible at first, but it does make a huge difference in the long term.)

 

[The Synonym]

────────────────────────

[Climbing The Hierarchy]

────────────────────────

| Weeks later… |

...

As always, the dojo was filled with the steady rhythm of children swinging bamboo swords and calling out in unison.

"Sei! Sei! Sei! Sei...!"

—Clap!—

The sound cut cleanly across the room, and the class came to a stop. Koushirou stood at the front, his hands folding behind his back as the last echoes of the clap faded.

"Alright, kids. Time for our usual monthly dueling class."

A ripple of excitement ran through the students—eyes lighting up, backs straightening. Something that only occurred when something other than repetitive swinging was on the table.

Dan, still resting with both hands leaning on top of his bamboo sword, blinked once.

'Dueling class... I almost forgot that was a thing.'

A few weeks had passed since he had settled into his new self, and in that time, he had simply thrown himself into training—swinging, adjusting, following Koushirou's occasional and increasingly frequent corrections without overthinking it, running marathons along with the other disciples, performing the usual exercises, learning other types of swinging and their corresponding posture, etc...

He couldn't put a precise number on how much he'd improved, but his swings were noticeably smoother and faster, and his stamina was letting him last longer through practice sessions than several other students now.

He had been caught up enough in the routine that today's dueling class had slipped his mind entirely.

Which was a problem, because Kuina and Zoro weren't the only ones who dueled. Everyone did too—just way less. And they did so today, specifically.

'The last time...'

Dan's eyebrows creased slightly as the memory of the last dueling class surfaced.

'... It didn't go well for me at all.'

That had been barely a month in. His progress at the time had been close to nothing, and he'd had his ass handed to him by most of the other students without much trouble on their part.

He wasn't exactly brimming with confidence this time either—his swings had improved, but swinging in a straight line and actually fighting someone were two very different things.

What he was counting on was two things: whatever edge the training had quietly given him, and the fact that his adult perspective might at least keep him from panicking mid-fight the way a regular kid would. That, or it wouldn't help at all. Either outcome was possible.

'Well, I guess I just have to wait and see.'

He let out a quiet breath through his nose and surrendered to fate.

The class settled along the edges of the dojo. Koushirou took his place at the center, and ran through the rules briefly for the benefit of anyone who had somehow forgotten—a hit to the head, wrists, or torso ended the duel. The throat counted too, but hitting there was frowned upon.

"First duel of the day—Yasui against Shima!"

Both students pushed themselves to their feet and made their way to the center mat, bamboo swords in hand.

A bow to the shrine, a bow to each other, and they were off.

The two kids went at it with the ferocity of a kitten and the bravery of a rabbit. Jokes aside, Koushirou's teaching showed even through the obvious nerves—their footwork had shape to it, their guards were in roughly the right places, and there was at least some discipline behind the swings.

Dan watched them from his spot with squinted eyes, trying to get a rough read on where he stood by comparison.

'No idea.'

He could follow their movements well enough and had a few rough instincts about how he'd counter certain attacks. But he was fairly sure that was just the spectator effect—things that looked obvious from the outside had a habit of vanishing entirely once you were the one in the middle of it.

…He was probably making that up, but he was also fairly sure he wasn't wrong.

"Winner, Yasui!"

Before he knew it, one of the kids slipped, and the other used that to hit him in the torso.

After the victor was decided, both kids went back to their seats, and the next ones stepped up once Koushirou called for them.

The duels continued one after another. Dan sat cross-legged with his chin resting on his fist, watching each exchange with loose attention—his mind going something along the lines of 'that move looks painful, I should avoid that,' rather than anything genuinely tactical.

By the time nearly an hour had passed, he had mostly settled into a comfortable state of mild observation.

Then Koushirou's voice cut through.

"Last duel of the day... Dan against Zoro!"

Dan blinked.

'Huh?'

He turned his head slightly. Across the room, Zoro sat with his arms loosely crossed, looking equally caught off guard—before the confusion gave way to something a lot more like outrage as he shot to his feet.

"Sensei, what do you mean?! Don't I always spar with Kuina?!"

'Yeah, why am I getting paired with the sword gremlin with just two months in...?'

Dan stared at Koushirou with a baffled expression.

"Settle down. I simply thought Dan would benefit from a duel against you—he's been improving quite a bit lately." Koushirou's tone was even, as if the pairing were the most natural thing in the world.

"He is?" Several kids echoed it at almost the same time, glancing over at Dan like they were seeing him properly for the first time.

'I am?'

Dan raised an eyebrow.

Zoro still looked unhappy about it, lips pressed together, but after a moment, he huffed and rolled his shoulders. "Alright, whatever." He moved toward the center, picking up two bamboo swords from the basket on his way.

Dan stood, not particularly enthusiastic. He shot a sideways glance at Kuina, who sat beside her father with her usual composed expression, entirely unbothered by all of it.

'At least it's not her...'

He grabbed a sword from the basket and walked to the center mat.

"Bow to the Gods." Both turned and bowed to a shrine nearby.

"Bow to each other." Both turned, facing each other, and bowed.

"Then..." Koushirou let the pause stretch just a moment.

Dan held his breath. Zoro's grip tightened around his swords.

"...Begin!"

"Orya!"

The duel started frenetically, with Zoro already moving before the word had fully left Koushirou's mouth.

—Tack! Tack! Tack! Tack! Tack! Tack!—

Dan got his sword up just in time to block the first strike, but the ones that followed came too fast to properly track.

His grip nearly gave out more than once through the flurry, his arms absorbing each impact with barely enough resistance to keep the sword in his hands. The sheer relentlessness of it left no room to think.

In a desperate bid for space, he started backing away.

It didn't help much. Zoro matched every step, keeping the pressure constant.

But the small gap it created was enough to let Dan's head clear for just a second—enough to actually watch the rhythm of Zoro's attacks instead of just bracing against them.

Something caught his eye. A moment, a tiny break in the pattern.

His instincts told him it wouldn't come again. So he stopped retreating and swung—a clean downward strike, the one he had repeated probably a thousand times by now.

Whether it was because Zoro hadn't expected him to stop running or hadn't expected him to swing back at all, the barrage stuttered. He was forced to break his rhythm and block in a hurry, bringing one sword up to meet it.

—Tack!—

Sadly, one sword was all it took to stop it. The other came around a half-second later and whacked Dan cleanly on the torso.

Thus, marking the duel over.

As the defeat settled in, Dan lowered his sword and pressed a hand to the spot with a wince. Zoro had held back noticeably—it would bruise, but nothing worse than that. He let out a breath and looked back up at Zoro, who was watching him with a mildly curious expression.

Koushirou called for the bow. Both of them turned and gave it, and when they straightened, Zoro tilted his head slightly.

"Oi, what's your name?"

"Dan."

"You're new, right?" Zoro asked, still looking him over.

"This is my second month here."

"Second month." He repeated it once, as if testing the weight of it, then nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "You're pretty good. Those guys—" he jerked his chin toward the rest of the students without looking at them "—still can't manage to swing back, and half of them have been here longer than I have."

Dan glanced over. Several of the other disciples had found something very interesting to look at on the floor.

So he had done something even they couldn't, while only a month since he got his hacks?

'I wouldn't call that a success exactly, but at least I know the hack is working.' He thought, feeling a bit refreshed through some of the bad aftertaste of losing the duel.

"Thanks," Dan said, turning back. "And for holding back, too."

He wasn't under any illusion about what had actually happened. Zoro had been fighting adults regularly. If he'd wanted to send Dan's sword spinning across the dojo in the first two seconds, that would have been well within his ability.

The fact that Dan had lasted long enough to even find an opening was as much Zoro's restraint as it was anything else.

Zoro didn't deny it, which was confirmation enough. He gave a short nod, and they both returned to their seats.

Dan dropped back onto his with a thud, more tired from that brief exchange than he would have liked to admit. As he did, a few glances from nearby students were directed at him, looking at him as if he were a weird animal.

He ignored them and simply closed his eyes to rest while he still could.

Meanwhile, across the room, Koushirou's gaze settled on him.

'I was not wrong, then. That kid really is talented.'

On the surface, what Dan had done didn't look particularly impressive. But Koushirou had been teaching long enough to read what was underneath it.

To start with, staying composed under that kind of pressure—arms getting battered from the mere recoil, sword nearly wrenched away, no space to breathe—was already uncommon for a child his age.

Most would have locked up or turned their back on it entirely. The instinct to keep looking for an opening rather than simply endure or escape was something that couldn't be drilled into someone easily.

Then there was the matter of actually spotting the gap. Finding a moment to strike in the middle of Zoro's barrage required both sharp attention and fast enough judgment to act on it before it closed. Very few of the students in this dojo could do that, regardless of how long they had been here.

And then, there was the matter of executing it. Forcing Zoro to block, even caught slightly off guard, still required enough speed and weight behind the swing to make him respond to it. A month ago, Dan wouldn't have been able to do that.

Now he could.

It was a small thing. But it was the kind of small thing that told Koushirou what direction someone was heading in.

'I'll need to keep a closer eye on him.'

While Koushirou sat quietly with that thought, Kuina—still beside him—let her gaze drift from her father's face over to Dan, her eyes narrowing slightly before she looked away.

"Oi, Kuina, let's duel!"

Zoro's voice snapped her attention back. He was already on his feet, sword in hand, looking at her with the particular expression he reserved for these moments—impatient and single-minded.

She glanced at her father. Koushirou gave a faint nod.

"Very well." She reached for her bamboo sword and stood.

That day, they completed their 1178th duel.

Zoro's loss.

...

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: We start losing, but as someone wise once said, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and Dan is going to become stronger.

... That was kinda corny, I admit.)

 

[evil6961]

Bit of a random question but the 2x learning hack does it work on "body" building? And can the auto walk script work on travel modes other than walking like say lunges or something? And could he do something like auto walk to the top of a nearby mountain and get exercise from that? Maybe be able to have an auto task script once he gets new stuff, like swing sword 1000 times, or do a 1000 squats, to speed run his physical training?

 

[Yohnos]

Can't wait for him to start doing crazy swordman shit like cutting space and time and aura farm by saying corny shit like "Oh my, maybe using a sword was too much!"

 

[Despacitoleo]

Awsomw chapter

 

[Heavenly Mark]

Nice

 

[The Synonym]

Bit of a random question but the 2x learning hack does it work on "body" building? And can the auto walk script work on travel modes other than walking like say lunges or something? And could he do something like auto walk to the top of a nearby mountain and get exercise from that? Maybe be able to have an auto task script once he gets new stuff, like swing sword 1000 times, or do a 1000 squats, to speed run his physical training?

Click to shrink...

The x2 learning applies to his physical training and to learning stuff. As for the auto walk, it only walks, but it does train the body if Dan configures it to carry him a long distance, so yeah Dan would use it by going up and down a mountain as training. Regarding the auto training, I think I have it into consideration, so don't worry.

 

[Plaguedromance]

The World's greatest swordsman is going to be a side project for Dan the man

 

[The Synonym]

────────────────────────
[Engaging In Some Tomfoolery]
────────────────────────

...

"... How long am I supposed to keep doing this?"

Dan lay flat on his bed, staring at the ceiling with a bored expression.

"An entire month, and I haven't made a single move with my system..." he muttered. "Just training and training."

To be fair, that had been his plan from the start. Train, build up strength, and once he felt ready, go out and earn himself a proper bounty.

But when you had a literal cheat of reality in your pocket and had spent a full month doing absolutely nothing with it, impatience was bound to set in.

"Am I really sure there's nothing I can do right now?" He mused, scratching his head in doubt.

He pushed his chin forward in thought and pulled up his system, navigating to the NP section to go over it again.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

▸ How you buy things:

The currency for buying hacks is NP: an acronym for Notoriety Points.

These are earned through acts that generate genuine fear and infamy among the population. The more people who witness or hear of your acts, and the more they fear you, the more NP you earn. However, the stronger the hacks and items, the more expensive they will be.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

...

Basically, he had to make his name known—in the bad sense—and the system would reward him for it with Notoriety points.

With those points, he could buy hacks beyond the handful he currently had.

It wasn't complicated at all.

"Shop," he said.

A new screen appeared.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

[Starter Tier SHOP]

≡ Passive Hacks

▸ Presentable: [10 NP]

▸ WalkingCompass: [25 NP]

▸ SpeedReader: [30 NP]

▸ IronStomach: [30 NP]

▸ Pokerface: [50 NP]

▸ Polyglot: [250 NP]

───────────────────

≡ Active Hacks

▸ Dry: [10 NP]

▸ Internal Clock: [20 NP]

▸ Clean: [25 NP]

▸ Appraiser: [30 NP]

▸ Tireless: [100 NP]

▸ Coward's Eye: [100 NP]

▸ Sugar Rush: [200 NP]

───────────────────

≡ Scripts

▸ AutoRest: [75 NP]

───────────────────

≡ Items

▸ Water Bottle: [5 NP]

▸ Jerky: [5 NP]

▸ Clothes: [10 NP]

▸ Golden Pencil: [15 NP]

▸ Golden Pen: [15 NP]

▸ Golden Quill: [15 NP]

▸ Golden Fork: [15 NP]

▸ Golden Spoon: [15 NP]

▸ Golden Lockpick Set: [15 NP]

...

▸ Music Headset: [25 NP]

▸ Fix-everything Tape: [30 NP]

▸ Bugged Smoke Pellet: [30 NP]

▸ Bottle of Hyper Glue: [50 NP]

▸ Gravity Cuffs: [65 NP]

▸ Very Stable Surfing Board: [75 NP]

▸ Intelligent Dumbbells: [80 NP]

▸ Haki Knot (Weak Level): [300 NP]

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

"Hmm..."

He went through each listing with care, eyes slowly going over the function of each hack and item.

Some of it was genuinely interesting. Some of it was not.

Presentable, the cheapest Hack in the entire shop, essentially kept his hair in whatever position he put it in—basically, an invisible and permanent hair gel.

That was the entire skill.

A total waste of NP in his opinion—although if he ever had points to spare, he could maybe see himself caving in out of spite. His bed hair was especially rebellious, so he often found himself eyeing the hack, despite it not being worth it.

Polyglot was on the other end of the spectrum. The ability to read and understand any language wasn't going to be particularly useful right now, stuck in a village on a single island. But the long-term value of it was hard to argue with. Especially since ancient languages actually seemed really important in this world.

The items section caught his eye too. The Golden everything—pencil, pen, quill, fork, spoon—were all listed as indestructible, which already made his heart beat in excitement.

Indestructible. That sounded crazy already!

—Even if the only objects with that characteristic at the moment were pretty mundane, with no weapons anywhere in the long list, just common tools and cutlery with no edge to speak of.

There was a screwdriver somewhere in the list, though. He filed that one away as a maybe. It was the closest thing to a weapon in the list, after all.

The Music Headset had also been on his mind since he first saw it. Not for any tactical reason—he just wanted something to listen to.

Nothing but silence and nature's sounds for an entire month was making him crave the music he used to hear every day.

Next, the Surfing Board listed there was more practical than it sounded. It basically let him stand on its surface without risk of falling or slipping, which in other words meant island travel without a ship—assuming his legs could hold out for however long the crossing took.

... He didn't love that part, but it was there, if he ever felt he might need it.

And then... there was the Haki Knot. A single-use item, purchasable once, that released a weak burst of Conqueror's Haki upon being untied.

A hidden card up the sleeve, essentially.

The instant he saw it, Dan knew he'd want to plan around that one carefully before buying it.

None of it was accessible right now, of course. No NP meant no buying spree, which in turn brought him right back to the source of his frustration—remaining poor in NP, and not getting to try out the other hacks for however long his training would be lasting.

Getting his ass handed by Zoro a few weeks back hadn't helped his mood either.

Rationally, he understood it—the moss head was already fighting adults, there was no way he, a kid who'd barely been there two months, would beat him.

But knowing he had a literal cheat of reality at his disposal, and yet still ending up losing that badly, left a sting that reason didn't fully soften.

He knew it was just the impatient side of him talking. He had the system, and he wanted the benefits of it immediately. Sadly, that wasn't how it worked—or at least, not how it had been designed to work.

While he would love to just go and build up his infamy right now by making something crazy that would surely yield him NP and maybe raise his bounty—like going to the nearest marine base and punching every marine soldier there—the ROB had made sure this story he was supposed to produce wouldn't end prematurely.

How?

With damn rules. The guy had made sure he couldn't just speedrun his bounty tiers and get the most OP hacks right away.

... Well, technically he could, but not without consequences.

By pressing a "?" icon at the corner of his system's window—which he took a week to notice since it was so damn minuscule he mistook it as part of the screen's decoration—he could get a look of the rules the ROB had put in place.

The first rule stated that the moment he crossed into the Rookie tier—the one after his current Starter tier—the system would personally guarantee that an opponent of appropriate strength would come his way in due time, to make sure he was up to level.

—And that would happen at every tier, without exception, like a constant examination of his worthiness.

Of course, that wasn't all that worrying on its own. Sure, it was a problem to deal with each time he leveled up, but in the end it was only one person he had to beat to prove his worthiness.

The real problem came from the rule also adding as a bonus that, unlike in the show, a bounty on his head wouldn't just be a creeping number with no real danger. It would actually fulfill its purpose.

Make him be hunted.

Depending on the tier he was at, the system would make sure an appropriate number of people came knocking to claim it, drawn in by fate and the system working together.

Marines. Bounty hunters. The whole thing.

Not like Luffy, who at worst had a few encounters with bounty hunters and marines after getting his first bounty, but didn't get chased around much.

No. In his case, the moment he gained a proper price on his head, bounty hunters and marines would be on the look out, sniffing every corner to get a hold of him to the best of their ability.

And what was worse, the ROB also decided that the backlash from bounties wouldn't necessarily be capped at his current tier's level. The opponents the system sent as tier milestones would match roughly the required level—but the hunters drawn in by the bounty itself had a chance to be considerably stronger. That part was essentially a matter of luck.

Maybe even an Admiral would show up because he woke up on Lady Luck's bad side one day.

So basically, the ROB here was telling him: "Raise your bounty however much you want, but you will have to face backlash of equal measure."

If that wasn't enough, the second rule had been made to account for any possible attempt at exploiting the currency system without becoming a proper criminal as intended.

It stipulated that manufactured infamy counted for nothing. He couldn't make up stories about himself and hope they would terrify the world and send a rush of NP his way.

The system rewarded actions, not speculation. If he was rumored to have destroyed a town, the gains would be minimal, if any at all.

If he did destroy the town, only then would the gains be appropriate. Not that he would do such thing—unless the residents deserved it or something.

The third rule was added to complement the previous one. Stating that grinding NP by picking on the weak and avoiding anyone stronger would yield diminishing returns over time.

Basically, it was telling him not to be lazy and to go seek trouble against those stronger than him constantly.

The fourth rule also complemented the two rules from before. It clarified that using strong allies to cause infamy-worthy acts, then mooching off them, wouldn't work either. Only deeds with the credit verifiably belonging to him alone would generate NP.

He had to be the big bad. He couldn't just be "part of the bad guys", or the "mysterious guy behind the bad guys" whose entire infamy came from allegedly being stronger than allies who actually did the act.

So much regulation for what was supposed to be a fun adventure was pretty annoying, and he wondered if the ROB even knew what he was doing—although, he had to admit that when he first learned how NP worked, he had been concocting a plan like those.

So maybe the rules may have been warranted... just a bit.

However, if any of those rules hadn't been enough to deter him from attempting anything "story breaking", then there was the fifth and last rule. One put there to plug any loophole that the ROB may have not noticed while designing this thing.

It explicitly said that, if he were to find a loophole in any of the rules above and tried to exploit it despite the posterior warnings the system would give him, then the ROB would come down and deal with him directly. No further explanation given.

So, in short: don't fuck around, and you won't find out.

"So much for him wanting a fun story." He scoffed.

As he came to terms with the fact that he wouldn't have much of a choice, Dan exhaled slowly through his nose and closed his eyes in thought.

All of those fucks you from the ROB brought him once again to the question that was currently bothering him the most.

If he couldn't exploit anything, and had to be careful about rising his bounty—was training all he could do right now?

With such a question in mind, he stayed like that for a few minutes more, thinking it over.

...

Then, at some point, his eyes snapped open. A gleam of realization passing by them.

... Actually, there was something he could do right now. He just hadn't thought about it from the right angle.

Judging from his status screen, his current tier wouldn't advance until he hit 500K beli in bounty. That meant as long as his acts stayed below what would prompt the Marines to put a formal number on his head—or at least to put a bounty lower than 500K on him—he had room to maneuver.

If he managed that, he could quietly farm NP and have something worth equipping by the time he was actually ready to kick everything off.

A glint of mischief passed through his eyes as that thought settled.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

≡[Hacked Item: Sunglasses of Anonymity]

▸ Sunglasses that hide your identity perfectly, somehow. No matter if you're standing right in front of them, wearing the same clothes—so long as you have these sunglasses on, no one will recognize you.

▸ Warning: The identity you take on whenever you put on the sunglasses remains the same even if you take them off and put them on again. Meaning that whatever criminal charges or relationships you have with people while wearing them persist until you remove them.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

He held them up for a moment, turning them over once as if expecting them to look supernatural in some way.

They didn't. They appeared to be completely normal sunglasses.

Regardless, after a quick shrug, he put them on with a grin.

"Alright. It's evil time."

...

°

°

°

| Half an hour later... |

...

Shimotsuki Village was, usually, a peaceful place.

The strength its people had built over generations—tradition brought from a distant land and maintained with quiet pride—meant pirates rarely gave it a second look. And when they did, they didn't leave in good shape.

The last pirate attack had been roughly three years ago, and incidents of that nature had been pretty uncommon since.

This particular evening, however, something happened that disrupted the village's peace.

"My animals—they're all loose! Someone opened the gate to my pen!"

"The pie I left to cool on the windowsill... someone took a piece out of it!"

"Who kept knocking on the stall door?! I shouted five times that it was occupied and they just kept going!"

"Who left a pile of cow dung on my doorstep?!"

"WHO MOVED MY TOOLS?! THEY WERE IN A SPECIFIC ORDER! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

Furious voices erupted from all corners of the village, overlapping and building on each other until the whole place felt like a pot about to boil over. Doors swung open. People poured out into the street, red-faced and searching for the culprit.

They didn't have to look for long.

"It was I!"

The voice came from above. Heads turned upward in unison, eyes locking onto a small figure perched on top of one of the rooftops, arms crossed, wearing a smug grin that only made the villagers more angry.

"You did all of this?!" one of the villagers shouted, jaw tight.

The figure tilted his chin up. "Yeah. What about it?"

That was all it took.

"Get him!"

The shout went up like a signal flare, and the mob surged forward.

"Oh shit—!" The figure's composure cracked immediately.

He scrambled back from the edge and jumped sideways onto the tree growing close to the rooftop—almost certainly how he'd gotten up there in the first place.

He grabbed a branch, swung himself down, hit the ground running, and dove into the village streets with an angry mob roaring behind him.

The chase went on through alleyways and between houses, neither party showing even a sliver of giving up. The figure was quick for his size, ducking under obstacles, cutting corners, slipping away even when someone cut him off and tried to block his path.

But eventually the streets gave way to the outskirts, and the outskirts gave way to the treeline, and the figure plunged into the forest without hesitation.

The mob followed him in, ducking under branches, slapping leaves away, crunching the soil beneath them—until their assassination objective slipped through a particularly dense bush and the foliage swallowed him up.

Regardless, they pushed through after him, not about to give up now.

But as they emerged from the other side... he was gone.

And instead, leaning against a nearby tree with a remarkably "innocent" face and his arms crossed, even going as far as to whistle, was a kid several of them recognized.

"Little Dan?" One of the older men raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing out here?"

The kid shifted his weight slightly. "I was, uh... passing by."

Several eyes narrowed at the same time.

Then one of the villagers, a farmer, spoke up, squinting. "Right. Either way—kid, did you happen to see a runt about your size come through here just now?"

Dan's eyebrows shot up dramatically, and his mouth made an "o" for a second before he asked. "What did he look like?"

The farmer opened his mouth. Then stopped. His eyebrows pulled together as he realized he actually didn't remember much about the punk they were after.

"He had sunglasses!" someone else from the crowd suddenly offered.

"Like those!" Another pointed.

All eyes followed the direction of the finger, landing right on Dan's shirt—specifically, the slightly suspicious sunglasses-shaped bulge near the collar.

-Clack-

A pair of sunglasses slipped out from under the fabric and dropped straight to the ground.

"..."

"..."

Dan looked down at them, then back up at the crowd... then he slowly raised one arm and pointed into the forest behind him.

"He went that way."

"After him!"

""OOOH!""

For some reason, the crowd didn't hesitate even a second, and lurched back into motion, streaming past Dan and crashing deeper into the trees.

"..."

Dan stood very still until the last of the footsteps faded.

Then he let out a long breath and bent down to pick up the sunglasses, pocketing them right away.

"Five points for all that..." he muttered, massaging his temples. "This is going to be a real pain."

...

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: Tried to fix some of the infodump present in this chapter so it was more digestible than in previous versions. Did it still feel that way?)

 

[Despacitoleo]

Ahhahahah amazing

 

[The Synonym]

────────────────────────
[Sunglassed Bandit]
────────────────────────

| Three weeks later… |

...

-Swish!-

'Is it like that?'

-Swoosh!-

'Nope, that one felt better.'

-Swish!-

'Or does this one feel better…?'

Dan pushed his chin forward as he became lost in thought, repeating the same two motions and frowning more and more with every iteration.

Then two voices from nearby cut through his bubble—a pair of resting kids talking among themselves a short distance away.

"You heard of that guy? The one who's been terrorizing the village lately?"

"Yeah. We were playing near the dojo yesterday and heard the commotion. The other day too… and the day before that."

Another kid leaned in from nearby.

"I heard he's like a ghost. Even with a huge mob behind him, he managed to just vanish. The adults said it themselves."

"I heard Dan was nearby when it happened," another added.

All of them turned to look at him.

"Yo, is that true?" one asked from their seat.

Dan sweatdropped.

"...Uh, yeah, sure."

"You've seen the guy? What does he look like?!"

Dan scratched his chin, appearing to think it over deeply. "Very dashing… and muscular. That too."

"Huh? My dad said he looked pretty thin, though. Short and thin."

"You guys think he's a Leprechaun?"

"What's that?"

"It's a mischievous little man that loves gold. I heard about it from some travelers who passed through our inn. Apparently, it has a pot full of gold hidden somewhere, and rainbows point to where it is."

"Gold?!"

"We should find the thing, then we'd be rich!"

"..."

Dan's eyebrow twitched as the conversation drifted in a weird direction.

He looked down at himself.

He was a bit thin, yeah... but that's what being an orphan did to you. Old man Shun let him eat with the crew, but the meals weren't exactly nutritious, and he often skipped breakfast and dinner entirely. They ate plenty of leftover fish when there was some, but that was about it.

He was in genuine need of better food. The money he'd started earning since the boat fiasco had helped—he'd been buying things that actually filled him—but his salary still wasn't quite enough to cover three meals a day for a whole month. And since old Shun handled the cooking, he hadn't found the right moment to bring it up.

'Maybe I should learn to cook.'

He already could, technically. But that was university-student cooking, not actual cooking. If he learned properly, he'd at least feel less apprehensive about quietly improving their meals himself.

And once he wasn't so thin, maybe he'd finally have the build that would make his victims take him seriously.

As for his height… he was a kid, that's all. He was even taller than plenty of the kids around.

So that was something only time would cure.

Dan sighed and resumed his swinging, tuning out the Leprechaun debate and treasure search talk happening behind him.

As he did, his mind drifted back over the past few weeks.

A lot had happened. Annoying pranks mostly, and some less innocent stuff. Through it all, he'd built himself a proper name as someone who instilled at least a moderate level of fear in the villagers' hearts.

The first attempts had been on the lighter end—harmless pranks, a slow rhythm, nothing that would attract actual authorities. The plan had been to let it build quietly over time.

Then the villagers, being perfectly functional human beings, started preparing against him. Making the usual targets harder to reach, and keeping a lookout where there hadn't been one before.

He'd been caught mid-act more times than he'd like to admit, and by the end of the first week, he could barely think of anything that wouldn't get him nabbed on the spot.

It was honestly a miracle he hadn't been caught for real yet.

So, with his usual options drying up, he'd had no choice but to make a big change. The harmless pranks had to become psychological warfare.

Under the cover of night, he stood outside people's windows and scratched at the glass. He grabbed pigs and made them shriek once the village had gone quiet. He banged on doors at the same hours, night after night, then laughed loudly from the dark to make sure they knew it had been him. His night vision hack came in clutch every time someone gave chase, letting him slip away through the dark without missing a step.

Genuinely awful stuff he wouldn't wish on himself. But a hacker had to gain NP somehow.

So far, through the three weeks he'd been doing this, he had accumulated 54 NP. Enough to buy the Music Headset he'd had his eye on since day one—but he didn't. With genuine iron will, he'd held off.

He hadn't terrorized an entire village just to treat himself to some music. He was saving up for the hack he actually needed.

Tireless—an active hack that would nullify exhaustion completely for one hour, after which all the fatigue he hadn't felt would crash back in at once. In practice, it meant he could push himself to his absolute limit without exhaustion cutting him short, and then SpeedyGains would convert that enormous effort into twice the normal improvement.

Basically, the perfect way to replicate the insane training regimens of shonen protagonists, but without needing the iron mentality that actually pushing past your limits required.

He was still only halfway there. A few more weeks of the same thing, probably—assuming the villagers didn't find a way to shut down his current method entirely.

If they did, he'd have to step things up—and then he'd be able to boost his current improvement rate with his new hack.

But for that, the villagers had to suffer first.

'Don't feel bad, don't feel bad.'

He kept the thought on repeat as he swung.

With a system like this, guilt over small things was a luxury he couldn't afford. Especially not when the World Government was at the end of this road.

He'd probably end up affecting plenty of lives—directly, indirectly, guilty, innocent—once he crossed that line.

That was just the reality of the path he'd chosen, and what was bound to happen given the tight control the Government had on the people of this world.

His brows drew together slightly. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath, letting the thought settle and then consciously setting it aside.

Then, he noticed footsteps approaching.

He opened his eyes to find Koushirou approaching, hands folded behind his back.

"Dan. I said it was rest time. You're still at it?"

Dan smiled wryly. "I feel fine… I can keep going a bit longer."

Koushirou didn't look convinced. "Dedication matters, but so does rest. Be careful not to push your body past what it can handle."

"I'm genuinely not that tired, sensei."

Koushirou lifted an eyebrow at that. He was quiet for a moment, studying him.

"Do a few more swings.," He then ordered.

Dan nodded and got back to it.

Five swings in, Koushirou had gone still, his arms folded now, eyebrows furrowed as he watched with a look of quiet calculation.

'I had expected him to be showing fatigue by now… his physique is already that much better than the other kids?'

A few more seconds passed before he gave a short nod.

"Continue, then. I'll correct you when you make a mistake."

Dan looked mildly surprised but didn't argue.

He went back to swinging—up and down, left and right, working through all the motions the dojo had covered so far. Koushirou watched, and whenever Dan slipped into a bad habit or fumbled a form he'd had right a moment before, he said so. Dan corrected it, sometimes cleanly and sometimes not, occasionally undoing a fix he'd just made. But slowly, steadily, the swings got a little better.

From the edges of the dojo, the other students watched enviously—but for the most part with respect. They were those who threw themselves to rest as soon as Koushirou allowed so... yet, seeing Dan was still at it, they couldn't help but acknowledge his determination.

It reminded more than a few of them of Zoro and his relentless grind to catch up to Kuina, which had taken him from newcomer to something that made even the older students reluctant to volunteer for a spar with him.

Although, now that they thought about it, Zoro had been plenty strong since the start. When he first entered here, he carried with him a raw ferocity that made up for every gap in technique through sheer aggression.

Dan, on the other hand, had been beaten by plenty of them on his first monthly dueling day. He actually started from the bottom. A weak kid, just like them.

Even if, after his first month, he shot up in strength, making many in the dojo doubt whether the'd be capable of beating him right now.

Still, he had a long way before he caught up to Zoro.

Nowadays, Zoro had equaled his ferocity with his technique, making him much more of a monster than when he first arrived. So much so, that nobody even wanted to consider sparring with him, in fear of getting depressed from feeling an insurmountable gap between them.

Well. Almost nobody.

From her corner of the dojo, Kuina watched her father instruct Dan with a slight frown pulling at her brow.

"..."

This kind of attention—standing there, pointing out mistakes in real time, staying with a student through the exercises—she hadn't seen him do this often.

Certainly not with Zoro, who was too hardheaded to follow anything but his own instincts anyway. Instead, her father had mostly pointed him in a direction and let his stubbornness carry him the rest of the way.

And not really with her either, if she was being fair about it. He'd started teaching her only once she made it obvious that she wasn't going to stop asking, and even then, it had been pointers, not this. So she ended up filling in the gaps herself.

So what was different about this kid?

She studied him for a moment. He wasn't anything remarkable to look at, swordsmanship-wise.

Faster than most of the others, sure, but Zoro had been further along at this stage. Raw talent-wise, he wasn't that impressive to warrant such attention.

Then she watched her father say something, and saw Dan adjust right away—not perfectly, but genuinely trying to apply what he'd just heard.

No argument, and no going back to what felt comfortable.

Maybe that was it, the reason her father seemed to favor him so much nowadays.

He actually listened to her father.

… That, and the fact that he was a boy.

"Hmph," She snorted.

Then, she stood up, picked up a bamboo sword without hurry, and headed through the door to the backyard, where the practice dummies waited.

Whatever it was that had her father's attention—it didn't matter. Just like Zoro, this one wouldn't beat her either.

She'd make sure of it.

...

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: Dan finally starts gaining some infamy. One step closer to his path of criminalism.)

 

[The Synonym]

────────────────────────
[Goodies]
────────────────────────

| Three months later… |

...

"What a pain," Dan muttered, eyeing the sky above with an exhausted look, the breeze ruffling his hair. He was lying on top of a rock, on a hill by the seaside.

Living on an island had its privileges, like having a constant view of the sea.

Allegedly, this world was about 90% islands, 9% bigger islands, and 1% continent-sized islands.

He made up those percentages, by the way. But his point still stood.

So it wasn't exactly a unique perk.

Maybe it was just a bonus of being part of a fishing crew that lived right by the coast.

-Sigh…-

A fair amount of time had passed since he recovered his otherworldly memories. He was a bit taller now, and broader too.

Not too much, it had only been three months.

Thankfully, his efforts to eat better had pulled him away from the malnourished end of the spectrum over time—that, plus a few cooking lessons from the owner of the village inn, which gave him a proper understanding of what made up a hearty meal.

With SpeedyGains behind him, he'd picked up the craft fast, which left him feeling deeply satisfied with the hack.

But despite the improved physique and the new cooking skills, not everything was going smoothly.

"Tsk…"

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Current Infamy Tier: Starter

▸[Current Bounty: 0 / 500K]

▸[NP: 96]

Equipped Passive Hacks [1/1]

▸ SpeedyGains

Equipped Active Hacks [0/1]

▸ None

Equipped Script

▸ None

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

He stared at the screen with genuine pain in his eyes.

96 NP. So close, yet so far.

And worst of all, he'd been stuck there for weeks. Just imagine the helplessness of glancing at a number that close to your goal, day after day, with no sign of it moving anytime soon.

But that was just how things were. His farming method had finally been patched.

There were only so many crimes one could commit against a village this size before they became virtually unterrorizable. After enough incidents, the villagers had started coordinating properly and running day and night patrols all around, making it nearly impossible for him to even think about putting on the glasses.

He'd tried the tactic of going quiet for a stretch and coming back to catch them off guard. It worked a couple of times. Then they caught onto that, too.

So now he was at a full impasse—unable to even attempt anything, stuck right at the border of his goal.

At the verge of hitting those 100 NP.

"This sucks…"

Fortunately, not everything was bad news. His training, unlike his currently stalled criminal career, had gone fairly well. Sure, he still wasn't superhuman, and that realm felt like it was a good way off yet—but his learning speed had let him start actually challenging the more advanced students at the dojo. Guys who had been there for years.

He still couldn't overwhelm them the way Kuina and Zoro probably would—those two were already operating somewhere in the adults' level. But he was rising fast. Beating senior disciples at five months in, while being no more than ten years old, was nothing to dismiss.

His birthday was last month, by the way.

Since his parents were kinda dead, there was nobody around to remember such a thing, so the day passed without notice, and he treated it like any other. Old Shun took care of him but never overstepped—he clearly hadn't known.

And honestly, Dan had never once seen the old man celebrate his own birthday either, so he probably wouldn't have thought much of it regardless.

But back to his progress—he was doing well by his own standards.

SpeedyGains was evidently doing its job, even if swordsmanship moved slowly enough to make the results hard to spot in real time, but since it had already proven itself with cooking, the functionality wasn't in doubt.

With swordsmanship, it just took longer for the hack's benefits to become noticeable, and while he had his doubts when this all started, the three months that allowed him to catch up to those more experienced confirmed its effectiveness.

At the rate he was going, catching up to the two prodigies of the dojo was only a matter of time.

A rather long time for his taste, but definitely a short one for anyone else.

'If only I could use Tireless too,'

Dan's mood soured all over again.

He could feel the desperation whispering at him to just risk it all for those last 4 points that remained. He wanted a new hack badly.

Super automatic fishing, night vision, and a slightly-valuable-stuff radar that he honestly had no use for, except for when he dropped some of his money on accident, were beginning to get old and boring.

Letting out a quiet groan, he shut the system's screen, knowing that if he continued staring at it, he would end up doing something stupid. Then, he closed his eyes and made himself settle back against the rock, letting the breeze do its job and calm down his greedy heart.

...

At least, that was the plan—until his ears picked up the faint sound of the village in the distance getting noticeably louder.

Which, on an island this remote, was quite the occurrence.

He pushed himself upright and squinted toward the village. Nothing obviously wrong, like fire or people rushing away. Just the muffled and apparently hectic voice of the villagers.

"...?"

Seeing nothing wrong, his gaze drifted instead toward the docks.

And that's when he saw it.

A ship, not a pirate one. A merchant vessel.

"Oh."

He nodded in understanding. That explained the commotion in the village.

A merchant ship meant goods from other islands, maybe from much further than that.

Even he was interested now.

"Hup!"

So, he pulled himself to his feet and started jogging toward the village, curiosity already winning out. Maybe he'd find something worth spending his allowance on for once, other than food.

...

°

°

°

| Minutes later… |

...

Dan strode into the village, looking around with wide curious eyes. The usually quiet streets were packed—everyone had left their homes to get a look at what the merchant had brought in.

He spotted a few of his fellow dojo students scattered through the crowd as he pushed his way through. He didn't slow down for any of them though.

He wasn't particularly close to anyone at the dojo—or in the village, actually.

Part of that was the old Dan's doing. Losing his parents young had pulled him inward for a while, and he'd stayed that way until the decision to join the dojo gave him somewhere to direct himself.

And the other part of it was the new Dan's own reasoning—he was mentally preparing himself to be a criminal, so feeling guilt whenever his stunts against the World Government caused collateral damage against normal people was something he couldn't have himself feel.

He'd still try to avoid such occurrences the best he could—but he was still gonna make sure guilt wouldn't get to him the day he wasn't able to prevent something like that from happening.

So, with such resolution for his path ahead, he drifted through the crowd, making use of his child-sized frame to navigate it with ease, until he reached the center of it all.

There, a merchant who looked exactly like a merchant should—moustache, loud vest, slimed hair, and slightly on the heavier side—was holding court with the gathered villagers, rattling off his inventory. Bolts of foreign cloth, a few precious stones, vegetables, and fruits from islands none of them had ever visited, and plenty more.

But what stopped Dan in his tracks was further along the display.

Swords. A small rack of them, nothing fancy—worn hilts, blades that had clearly seen use—but swords nonetheless. And right beside them, something that made his eyes linger even longer.

Guns.

A handful of pistols, mismatched and a little battered, propped up alongside the blades. Recovered loot, by the look of it, same as the swords.

He stared at both for a moment.

A sword was the obvious choice, since he was training in swordsmanship and lacked a sword. The joke wrote itself there.

But a gun was a gun, and in his current powerless state, it'd bridge the gap between him and anyone not overly superhuman.

Hence, for a moment, he considered buying one. Or both. Or at least asking.

But as he considered asking the merchant, he noticed he wasn't the only one who was checking the weaponry inventory, as it turned out.

Glancing up through the crowd, he caught sight of Kuina not far off, her eyes on the swords with an expression that was hard to read—somewhere between interest and appraisal.

And then, slightly further along, Zoro was also looking at the display.

—Or possibly at the cask of brewed delicacies sitting right next to it.

Dan stared at him for a second, smiling wryly.

So young, and already on the road to alcoholism.

Shaking his head, he turned back and pushed toward the merchant, working his way up until the man finally noticed him.

"How much for the swords? And the guns?" He asked.

There was a flicker of dismissal when the merchant registered he was talking to a child—but given that this was a swordsmen's village, he clearly decided someone in earshot might be interested regardless, and his voice carried when he answered.

"The swords range from 40,000 to 65,000 beli, depending on condition. Recovered from a pirate crew that made the mistake of attacking us on the way here—they've seen blood, but a good polish and you'll have a fine blade. As for the pistols—" he gestured to the rack beside him "—25,000 to 40,000, same story. Functional, just not pretty."

He was already pitching to the crowd by the end of it, not particularly invested in the kid in front of him.

Dan winced.

Now that he had an allowance, he had been saving up, sure, but buying food had steadily eaten into what he could save; hence, his current savings did not even begin to scratch those prices.

'Damn.'

Sighing, he slipped back through the crowd and came out the other end of it, tilting his head back to look at the sky.

'Well, I guess I'll have to save for a while more before I can get my hands on something nice.'

In the end, it was just a matter of time.

There was also the chance that, just like with the Golden tools and cutlery in the shop, better versions of them, like unbreakable swords and guns, would unlock as he advanced through the tiers. So maybe it wasn't worth stressing over right now.

He nodded to himself and started walking away.

...

Only to stop dead in his tracks a second later. His eyes widened as if he had the revelation of the century.

'I could save up and buy them fair and square in due time, or…'

His eyes, already glinting, drifted back toward the crowd, narrowing dangerously.

'I could just take them.'

He licked his lips involuntarily as he realized such a straightforward way existed.

But then, he shook his head.

The merchant had guards. There was hardly any chance he'd be able to do something like that.

So, he started to resume his walk into the distance—

Until his eyes widened again.

If he pulled this off, wouldn't he finally reach the NP goal he'd been grinding toward for weeks?

The moment that thought dawned, greed began taking over, slow and steadily, and overriding his logical thoughts.

He scanned the surroundings. Villagers were posted as informal guards all around, doing their rounds, keeping an eye on things.

Getting to the display and then getting out through that crowd was going to be a nightmare.

Avoiding the guards of the merchant would be even worse.

...

… But what if he pulled it off?

His rational mind told him he was going to get caught and probably have his head hung as an example for any other thieves. There were no human rights in this world, after all.

And while they probably wouldn't be doing that to a ten-year-old, if he put on his glasses, they wouldn't know that until it was too late.

So yeah, his rational mind immediately told him it was a horrible idea.

—But the rest of him told him to do it anyway.

"Phew~"

He ended up letting out a puff of nervousness once he realized what was about to take place here

—before smirking.

"Alright. Let's do this."

…

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: Time for the criminal path to open up. Will he succeed, or will he be hung for everyone to see?

Discover it in the next chapter)

 

[evil6961]

Random thought but would the sunglasses prevent him from being recognized if he started writing letters to people, anonymously shit talking them? Like if he wrote some letters to garp, calling him a slave enabling buffoon and what not? Or started sending letters to big news morgan spilling secrets?

 

[Despacitoleo]

Random thought but would the sunglasses prevent him from being recognized if he started writing letters to people, anonymously shit talking them? Like if he wrote some letters to garp, calling him a slave enabling buffoon and what not? Or started sending letters to big news morgan spilling secrets?

Click to shrink...

call garp a cuck for raising another dudes kids

 

[The Synonym]

────────────────────────
[Goodies 2]
────────────────────────

…

The stall the traveling merchant, Locks, had placed in the middle of Shimotsuki village was doing wonderfully, even for his standards.

"Come, come! What are you looking for, ma'am? We have the finest dresses, tools to make everyday life easier, and food from foreign lands! You, sir—you look like a respectable blacksmith. We have a collection of prized ores here, valuable metals scarcely available in this sea!"

"Hmm, I see. They do seem rare. What can be made from them?"

"Oh, all kinds of things. Swords, hammers, axes—whatever you like. I do have to warn you, though... these are difficult to work with. Only the most experienced and gifted of blacksmiths can carve them into something beautiful—and lethal, of course."

"Ahem, then they must be perfect for me. How much?"

"Haha, I knew I wasn't mistaken about you! The price varies depending on the ore—for example, this one here..."

For such a remote village like this, the chance to get their hands on things from beyond the island was a rare opportunity, hence why the great attention he was getting—and as luck would have it, he had plenty to sell as well.

Those who were in desperate need of tools or new goods were buying like crazy.

Those who weren't were also buying like crazy.

Locks wanted to laugh out loud right then and there.

If only they knew half these things were cheap pieces made by a bunch of rookie artisans under his employ, they wouldn't be paying the prices he was asking.

The only things he had been somewhat honest about were the guns and swords his crew had recovered from a bunch of nobody pirates who thought too highly of themselves and ended up at the bottom of the sea.

Of course, that was just because they simply looked too worn to fool anyone. Had they looked presentable enough, he wouldn't have hesitated to sell them as artifacts of enormous rarity, comparable even to the Meitos.

Sadly, that wasn't the case, and they just looked like junk one might be able to use to defend oneself.

It was a bit of a pain that they might make everything else in his stall look cheap just by sitting next to his other merchandise, but he had to cover the costs those pirates had put him through when they attacked.

Still, judging from the way things were going, he was going to leave this place completely loaded!

He snickered at the thought—internally, at least. On the outside, he kept a broad, friendly smile as he handed a set of jewels to an unsuspecting woman.

But just as his hand was reaching for the money—

"Hey!"

A voice rang out loudly from somewhere in the crowd. Everyone turned, searching for the source with a curious look, but even as seconds passed, no one stepped out.

'Did I mishear?' Locks dug a pinky into his ear.

He was about to disregard the matter, when—

—PAF!—

Something came flying and hit him square in the face.

It didn't hurt. It was soft, actually.

But what came next wasn't.

"Cough, cough!"

A cloud of white exploded at the same instant, stinging his eyes and blocking his view in every direction.

Just from the smell and color, he and everyone were able to know what it was.

Ash.

"W-what the—cough—hell?" He glared around in confusion. The guards around looked just as baffled, searching in the direction from which the ash had come to find the perpetrator.

But that's exactly when a figure slipped out from within the opposite end of the crowd and reached the stall.

-Clacklack-

In a single instant, it yanked one of the swords free from the rack they were in, then a pistol lying on the counter, and quickly dived straight back into the mob.

"Hey, stop there, you thief!"

The ash cloud wasn't thick enough to blind anyone completely, so Locks caught most of it, as did his guards. They shook off their surprise quickly enough, shoved the crowd aside, and broke into a chase.

At the same time though, someone else grabbed one of the remaining swords.

"Hey!" Locks cried out.

"I'm borrowing it!" the person called back—and then dashed off after the thief.

Several meters ahead, the thief was already tearing across the village, sword and gun in hand. Those who hadn't been caught in the crowd recognized him the moment he came into view.

"It's the Sunglassed Bandit!"

"He's back!"

"Catch him!"

Bells were rung as the alarm spread. Villagers posted as guards from every direction began converging.

He was nearly surrounded.

But instead of stopping, he raised the sword.

Several of the guards hesitated on the spot—it was the first time the bandit had actually threatened with direct violence, and more than a few of them weren't fighters by trade.

Some were, though.

Two men stepped forward, their own swords already drawn.

—PAF!—

"AAARGH!"

"Cough, cough!"

But two ash bombs caught them right in the face as soon as they got too close.

Using the gap, the figure slipped through the last of them—sliding through the ground and passing by between their legs—and broke free, finally hitting the outskirts.

The merchant's guards were still on his tail, though. They were bigger, and thanks to that, they were closing fast. The gap he had made initially thanks to the surprise factor diminishing at a bullet's speed.

A few seconds later, they were already nearly at arm's reach, fingers brushing the hem of his clothes.

—That's when the figure spun around and leveled the gun directly at them.

"Argh?!"

"Watch out!"

The moment they saw the barrel aimed point-blank at them, they stopped and dove aside on instinct.

"..."

"..."

Only a few seconds of silence later did they recall that the thief had only taken the pistol, not the bullets.

"Ah, crap!" They scrambled back, looking hurriedly for their foe.

But by then, the bandit was already gone.

They stared blankly at the forest meters ahead in which he had probably dived in, pursing their lips with a "we're done" look.

"We're getting fired."

"You don't say…?"

...

°

°

°

| Minutes later, Dan's POV: |

…

"Huff, huff…"

I breathed haggardly as I rushed through the vegetation, completely damp from the effort it took me to run so fast, and the nerves I felt the whole time while I pulled that off.

After a nervous glance behind me showed nobody following, I still kept running a little longer—just to be safe.

Only when I finally felt reasonably in the clear did I slow down. After that, I found a tree thick enough to put my back against and dropped down against it, using it to stay hidden from anyone still giving chase.

Then I focused on catching my breath.

'I did it... I actually did it.'

My eyes dropped to what was in my hands. A cutlass and a flintlock pistol.

I had actually gotten the loot.

And not only that...

Heart already speeding up, I opened the system panel.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Current Infamy Tier: Starter

▸[Current Bounty: 0 / 500K]

▸[NP: 104]

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

I had the NP.

"Hahahaha!"

I let the laugh out right there in the middle of the forest. I didn't care.

But of course, good things don't last.

"You seem happy."

I jumped clean off the ground the moment a voice reached me from nearby. My head snapped toward it, and my eyes went wide behind the sunglasses.

'Seriously?'

Kuina was standing there, one of the merchant's swords in hand.

'Of course she followed.' I clicked my tongue.

It was just what a character from the show would do, instead of minding their business.

My hands went for more ash bags—empty.

Well, of course, there was only so much ash in the village smithy to fill bags with, especially if it had been cleaned recently.

Huffing through my nose, I raised the gun and pointed it at her.

"Scramble or you die here."

God, what a cliche line. Still, it should do the—

"With what, air bullets?"

—And she saw the stunt I pulled with the guards... Of course she did.

An awkward silence settled over the clearing.

Then, suddenly, I made a quick move sideways, trying to slip away.

She moved at the same time, cutting me off. I pulled back to where I started.

"..."

"..."

I tried again. She matched it again, if not faster.

'... This doesn't look good.' I swallowed.

Running behind me was an option, but I had no idea what her actual top speed was. She was taller, so probably faster.

And with her holding a sword, I wasn't about to leave my back open to find out.

"..."

"..."

Another beat of awkward silence.

"So it's come to this..." I muttered, already knowing what she was waiting for.

Then—

-Clack!-

I tossed the gun aside.

And with both hands free... I brandished my sword.

"Good." She smirked.

I laughed wryly. I was absolutely going to get my ass kicked. I was still well below her level.

...

'But that doesn't mean it has to be totally one-sided.'

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

[Tireless (Active)] [BOUGHT!]

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

The sound of my NP draining echoed in my head, and with it came the sweet ping of a new hack landing in my library.

I equipped it before she could move.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Current Infamy Tier: Starter

▸[Current Bounty: 0 / 500K]

▸[NP: 4]

Equipped Passive Hacks [1/1]

▸ SpeedyGains

Equipped Active Hacks [1/1]

▸ Tireless

Equipped Script

▸ None

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Then—

I activated it.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

[Tireless Hack Activated!—Time left: 59 minutes, 58 seconds.]

▸ For 1 Hour, your body will become virtually untiring. No matter the level of exertion, intensity of the action, the body will feel no fatigue nor limits to his stamina.

(Note: In most cases, this hack does not nullify pain. However, pain caused for prolonged exertion like: running, constant movement of any sort without rest, pulling or pushing something constantly for too long, etc... are all considered forms of exhaustion, so the hack will negate these for the duration of the effect.)

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

The instant it kicked in, I felt an invigorating rush of... nothing. The good kind of nothing.

Every bit of exhaustion, muscle soreness, joint ache, and whatever else I'd been carrying without even realizing it—gone.

I was suddenly in a completely normal state.

It felt incredible.

Smirking, I tightened my grip on the sword and took a step forward.

"Alright. Let's do this."

And then I rushed her.

She had the same idea, apparently, because she was already coming at me.

And we both swung.

—CLANG!—

'Oof…!'

She was stronger than me, no doubt. I felt the full weight of her swing pressing against my own—but I didn't wince nor lose ground.

It was like pure adrenaline with no ceiling. My muscles and joints didn't ache, my lungs felt full of air—I felt like I could go forever.

So, invigorated by the lack of complaints from my body, I pushed forward. She looked briefly surprised at the force behind me pushing beyond my usual limits, but she was more experienced in technique, and it showed—a second after I began pushing, she redirected the energy cleanly to the side and prepared to slash back.

'Shit!'

I scrambled backward before she could.

-Swish!-

Seeing the sword cleanly slice some blades of grass, I felt cold sweat run down my back.

'This world sure is ruthless.'

A girl no older than eleven had just tried to cut me down with a sword and hadn't thought twice about it.

This was the world I was in. The world I was going to live in from now on.

I had to get used to it.

I clicked my tongue and rushed in again.

—CLANG!—

—CLANG!—

—CLANG!—

Our swords kept meeting. She blocked most of what I threw at her without much trouble, and every time she looked ready to go on the offensive, I jumped back—fully aware that trying to hold her attacks would only go badly for me.

The good old hit and run.

And judging from her increasingly annoyed face, it was doing its job.

But then, instead of letting me back off again, she surged forward the same moment I tried to retreat, closing the gap instantly and swinging down hard.

—CLANG!—

Somehow, I blocked it, putting my sword horizontally.

"Fight me properly!" She was right in my face now, forcing her blade down against mine, the swords creaking under the pressure.

-Wack!-

"Ah?!"

I answered with a kick to her legs, making her buckle for a second, and using that gap to slip away again.

By the time I was at a safe distance again, I saw her looking at me with murderous eyes, one hand placed on the spot I had kicked.

She hadn't expected that, had she?

Seeing that expression looking at me as if I had done something extremely unfair, I let out a shaky laugh. "This isn't a duel with rules, you know?"

She gritted her teeth and rubbed the spot I'd hit. She was utterly pissed.

—But then she forced a smile.

"You're right. I made a mistake forgetting that."

She slashed the air once, loosening up, and settled into a ready stance.

'That's not good,' I winced.

Judging from her "devil may care" expression, I knew what was about to come.

Any rules from the average spar she might have been unconsciously following were out the window.

Which meant—

It was time to dip.

"See you," I said as I picked up the gun I had tossed earlier and ran.

"You bastard!"

That did not improve her mood.

I sneaked a glance over my shoulder as I ran and immediately flinched—she was cutting the gap faster than I'd expected.

Damn it, short legs were a real disadvantage.

When she got close enough to swing at my back—

—CLANG!—

I twisted mid-run and caught it with my sword.

Then I kicked off the ground and changed direction.

She scrambled after me. I changed direction again, this time throwing a tree between us, and started moving left and right to keep her guessing—before snapping right as a feint and then quickly bolting left.

She barely kept up.

But keeping up wasn't what I was going for anyway.

—Wheezing!—

She was stronger, more skilled, and more experienced than me.

But she wasn't superhuman.

She was in better shape than I, sure, but the gap between us physically wasn't that wide.

By now, I should have already been face-down on the ground, gasping for air, unable to move… but I wasn't.

This was why I had bought Tireless.

Now, she was the only one getting tired.

Smirking, I kept weaving through the trees, using the vegetation and my small size to slip through gaps she couldn't, and just kept running.

"You... come back here...!"

I didn't even look back.

Left, right, feint, cut—until finally, during one of the direction changes, she couldn't follow.

The moment I felt that gap open up...

-Bam!-

I kicked off the ground and sprinted.

She tried to give chase again once the path straightened out—but she was exhausted, overheated, and within ten seconds, I was too far ahead to close.

HAHAHA, FEEL THE HAX!

"Damn it!"

...

°

°

°

| Half an hour later... |

...

A slightly heavy-breathing Kuina pushed out of the treeline and back into the village outskirts, flushed red and with her forehead soaked in sweat.

"Damn it... I lost him in the end..." she muttered, more exhausted than disappointed.

After he'd gotten away, she'd spent some time searching across the forest for him, not willing to let him escape. However, by then it was too late. The guy had completely vanished.

So she'd had no choice but to come back empty-handed.

She swept a hand across her forehead and looked toward the village.

Then her gaze dropped to the borrowed sword in her grip. There were chips in the blade—she couldn't say whether those had been there before or not, but there was a good chance her father would end up paying for them either way.

She groaned quietly, her grip relaxing around the handle.

Turning back toward the forest with a reluctant expression, she frowned.

"I was clearly stronger... so how was he not even tired?"

She raised a hand, staring at it.

"Is it really—?"

-Crch-

-Crch-

-Crch-

That's when she heard footsteps on the grass coming from inside the forest behind her. Her head snapped toward the sound, and her grip on the sword tightened right away.

'Did he come ba—huh?'

Then a familiar face stepped through a bush and into the clearing, hands in his pockets, looking entirely unbothered.

The kid her father had been paying close attention to lately. Dan, if she remembered right.

"...?"

That's when he noticed her too.

He seemed to flinch for a second before ultimately meeting her gaze with an awkward look.

The two held each other's gaze for about five seconds.

Then, he gave a short nod, and walked past.

She watched his back as he went. He wasn't heading toward the village—toward the docks, by the look of it.

"... What was he doing in the forest?"

She stared after him for a moment longer, eyebrow furrowed, before she shrugged, then turned away and started heading back toward the village.

'I hope father won't be angry…'

Meanwhile, near the docks, Dan strolled calmly into the small patch of land where Old Shun kept his house and the cabin Dan lived in.

Old Shun was there, sitting on a log and quietly smoking a fish, watching the process with the patience of a man who had done it a quintillion times.

He looked up when Dan came into view. "Little Dan, you're back. A merchant arrived not too long ago—did you go see him?"

Dan kept walking toward his cabin door, but gave a nod. "Yeah. Nothing too interesting."

"I might wander over myself later. Maybe he's got a better rod than the one I've been stuck with."

"Good luck with that," Dan let the old man's musing fade behind him as he stepped inside and closed the door.

Then he crossed the room in three steps and threw himself onto the bed, face-up.

He pulled up the system screen and reached for Tireless to deactivate i—

—Snore—

His head dropped to the side before he could finish the thought, and a long, completely unrestrained snore rattled out of him.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

[Tireless Hack— Deactivated!]

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

...

────────────────────────

-To Be Continued...-

────────────────────────

(A/N: Some action in this chapter. After rereading it, I think it ended quite well.

And we at last finally see the first actually impressive hack in his list. Many more are to come, I hope.)

 

[Trek]

Honestly the hacks are pretty lackluster so far. Even in early canon we have a char who's training effort is rewarded 20x. That's more than 10x better than mcs training boost cheat.

The strong in this world can fight for weeks at full tilt compared to mcs one hour of tireless.

Let's not even mention the forced fights with no upper limit which means even if he reaches the top of this world new enemies of that power level will always be popping up no matter if it makes sense or not just to fight him.

If the cheats don't ramp up hard after he gains the teir 1 he is in for a bad time. Looking forward to what new hacks you introduce.

 

[Despacitoleo]

LOL infinite energy hack would be funny


NUKE THEM lol