Haki Monster in One Piece World - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Conqueror’s Hiccup

He watched the subdued movements of the villagers below, the familiar blanket of fear sensed through his Haki. Then, a patrol of Fishmen swaggered into the square – a larger group than usual, maybe ten or twelve grunts, led by one who carried himself with slightly more authority, perhaps a low-ranking squad leader. They weren’t just passing through; they seemed intent on causing trouble.

They started roughing up the villagers, kicking over market stalls displaying meager wares, demanding impromptu ‘tolls’ for crossing the square. Their harsh laughter echoed, amplified by the fearful silence of the humans. Mike watched, hidden amongst the leaves, his frustration simmering. He could sense their casual cruelty, their enjoyment of the power they wielded over the helpless populace.

Then, the scene escalated. The squad leader grabbed a young boy, barely older than ten, who hadn’t scrambled out of the way fast enough. He lifted the child clear off the ground by the front of his tunic, ignoring his terrified cries. Genzo rushed forward, pinwheel spinning frantically, protesting vehemently. The Fishman leader laughed, backhanding Genzo across the face hard enough to send him sprawling in the dust. Several other Fishmen pinned Genzo down, laughing as the leader dangled the terrified child.

Something inside Mike snapped.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. It was pure, unadulterated rage flooding his system – rage at the injustice, the bullying, the sheer, slimy arrogance of the Fishmen, rage at his own frustrating weakness and inability to just leap down there and do something. His carefully cultivated mental discipline, his focus on training and survival, shattered under the weight of the raw emotion.

He didn’t try to activate Haki. It simply erupted.

He felt it like a physical explosion ripping outwards from his very soul. Not warmth, not focused energy, but an invisible tsunami of sheer willpower, fueled by white-hot fury. It wasn’t directed at his Haki skills; it was his Haki, his spirit, lashing out uncontrollably. From his vantage point, he might have seen a barely visible distortion ripple through the air around him, felt the branch beneath him tremble violently. The pressure inside his own head was immense, staggering.

Down in the village square, the effect was instantaneous and devastating.

The Fishman leader holding the child suddenly went slack, his eyes rolling back in his head as he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, dropping the boy (who thankfully landed relatively unharmed in the dust). Six other Fishmen grunts standing nearby crumpled simultaneously, hitting the ground without a sound. And not just them. Every single villager in the immediate vicinity – the men holding Genzo down, the onlookers frozen in terror, Genzo himself – all went limp, slumping unconscious where they stood or fell.

The square, moments before filled with harsh laughter and cries of fear, fell into an eerie, profound silence, broken only by the cheerful, oblivious spinning of Genzo’s pinwheel in the dust.

The remaining four or five Fishmen, who had been slightly further away or perhaps possessed slightly stronger wills, hadn’t collapsed, but they were clearly affected. They staggered, clutching their heads, looking around wildly.

“What the—?!”

“My head… what was that pressure?”

“Felt like… like…”

“Gone now. Weird. Must be this damn island heat making us dizzy.”

“Yeah… weird.”

They cautiously approached their fallen comrades, prodding them. Seeing them completely unconscious, along with all the humans, seemed to confuse them more than alarm them. There was no visible attacker, no ongoing threat. Shrugging, attributing it to some inexplicable phenomenon, they roughly hauled their unconscious crewmates up, ignoring the sprawled forms of the villagers, and beat a hasty, confused retreat out of the square.

High in the tree, Mike stared down at the scene, his own body trembling, his mind reeling. Horror warred with a stunned sense of awe. He’d done that. With pure, uncontrolled rage, he’d unleashed… something… that had flattened Fishmen and civilians alike.

He felt utterly, profoundly drained. The eruption of power had felt like pouring his entire being outwards in one go. He quickly checked his System status, dread pooling in his stomach.

Fatigue: 100%

One hundred percent. He’d been at maybe 8% before the outburst. The invisible eruption had consumed virtually all his energy in a single instant. Crushing exhaustion slammed into him like a physical blow. His vision swam, nausea churned in his gut, and the world tilted precariously. He clung to the tree branch, breathing heavily, fighting the urge to pass out himself.

This power… Conqueror’s Haki… it was monstrous. And terrifyingly indiscriminate. He’d wanted to stop the Fishmen hurting the child, hurting Genzo. Instead, he’d knocked out the victims along with the perpetrators. What if he’d done that near allies? What if Nojiko had been there? The potential for catastrophic friendly fire was horrifying. This wasn’t a tool; it was a natural disaster waiting to happen.

Then, amidst the dizziness and self-recrimination, the System began to chime. Repeatedly. Notifications scrolled rapidly across his vision, almost too fast to read.

[Conqueror’s Haki Activated (Involuntary)! Overwhelming Emotional Trigger Detected!]

[Area of Effect Determined. Targets Assessed…]

[Targets Affected: Fishman Soldier x7, Human Civilian x18] (Or however many were nearby)

[Calculating Combat Resolution via Haoshoku Imposition…]

[Opponent Defeated: Fishman Soldier (Est. Physique Lv.5). Reward: Haki Attribute EXP +500]

[Opponent Defeated: Fishman Soldier (Est. Physique Lv.8). Reward: Haki Attribute EXP +832]

[Opponent Defeated: Fishman Soldier (Est. Physique Lv.8). Reward: Haki Attribute EXP +815]

… (Similar notifications for all 7 Fishmen, varying slightly based on their strength)

[Non-Combatant Incapacitated: Human Civilian (Est. Physique Lv.1). Reward: Haki Attribute EXP +100]

[Non-Combatant Incapacitated: Human Civilian (Est. Physique Lv.1). Reward: Haki Attribute EXP +100]

… (Repeated for all 18 civilians)

[Total Haki Attribute EXP Gained: 3745 (Fishmen) + 18 (Civilians) = 3925]

Mike stared, blinking through his exhaustion. EXP? He got EXP for knocking people out with an uncontrolled mental tantrum? Even civilians gave a nominal amount? The system considered any incapacitation via Haoshoku a form of ‘defeat’? That was… unexpected. And darkly pragmatic.

The EXP award immediately flooded his Haki Attribute bar.

Ping! [Haki Attribute Leveled Up! Current Level: 31!]

Ping! [Haki Attribute Leveled Up! Current Level: 32!]

Ping! [Haki Attribute Leveled Up! Current Level: 33!]

… The notifications flashed rapidly as the substantial EXP injection pushed him through multiple levels. …

Ping! [Haki Attribute Leveled Up! Current Level: 41!]

Seven levels gained in an instant. He could feel the difference, even through the crushing fatigue. His inner reservoir of spiritual energy expanded dramatically, a deep, comforting warmth pushing back slightly against the exhaustion.

But the notifications weren’t done.

[Conqueror’s Haki Proficiency Threshold Reached Due to Successful High-Intensity Application!]

Ping!

[Skill Leveled Up: Conqueror’s Haki Lv.1 -> Lv.2!]

[New Capability Unlocked: Conscious Activation.]

[Conqueror’s Haki Lv.2:] Allows Host to consciously release Haoshoku Haki at will. WARNING: Output intensity and target discrimination remain uncontrollable at this level. Activation affects ALL individuals of weaker will within range, friend or foe. Exercise extreme caution.

[Skill Cost: 10% Fatigue per activation.]

Level 2.

He could choose to use it now. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He could unleash that overwhelming pressure on command.

But the warning was stark: uncontrollable. It was still an area-of-effect weapon that didn’t care who it hit. And the cost – 10% fatigue per use – was significant. Even with his now much larger Haki pool at Level 41, ten activations would leave him completely drained, just like he was now.

He slumped against the tree branch, his mind reeling. He had accidentally stumbled upon a ridiculously effective way to gain Haki Attribute EXP – defeat opponents en masse, though the moral implications of knocking out civilians were deeply troubling. He had leveled up his most mysterious and potent Haki, gaining conscious control over its activation.

Yet, that control was terrifyingly incomplete.

Conqueror’s Haki Lv.2 wasn’t a sword; it was a bomb. A powerful bomb he could now choose to detonate, but couldn’t aim.

Exhaustion pulled at him insistently. He needed to get back to the cave, needed to rest and recover from the 100% fatigue drain. Carefully, moving with limbs that felt like lead, he climbed down from the tree. He can’t use Observation Haki right now, so he can only depend everyone on his own luck, and move forward.

As he retreated into the jungle’s depths, his thoughts were a whirlwind. The power was intoxicating, the progress undeniable.

Eleven Haki Attribute levels in seconds!

But the image of those innocent villagers collapsing alongside the Fishmen haunted him.

This power was a double-edged sword of immense proportions.

Using it carelessly could be just as devastating to those he might eventually want to protect as it was to his enemies. He had a new weapon in his arsenal, a powerful one, but one that demanded wisdom and extreme caution he wasn’t sure he possessed yet.

The grind suddenly felt even more complicated.