Haki Monster in One Piece World - Chapter 5
Chapter 5: Ten Days
Ten days. It felt like both an eternity and the blink of an eye since Mike had been violently ejected from his reality into this vibrant, deadly world. Ten days of hiding, surviving, and, more than anything else, training with a ferocity he never knew he possessed. The fear was a potent motivator, the blue screen system a tantalizing promise, and the memory of those casually cruel Fishmen a constant spur. His small, hidden cave had become less of a shelter and more of a monastic training cell, echoing with the rhythm of his brutal regime.
Life had settled into a harsh, exhausting pattern. Wake before dawn, meditate until the Haki pool felt brimming but before mental exhaustion truly set in. Drink water. Force down whatever meager, likely disgusting food he’d managed to forage or catch the previous day – the alien rabbitoid hadn’t been seen again, forcing him to subsist on strange fibrous roots, large edible (but bland) insects, and the occasional hard-won fish speared clumsily with a sharpened stick at the stream. Then, the main event: Physique training.
He trained like his life depended on it, because it unequivocally did. His chosen method remained brutally simple: punching the unforgiving rock wall of his cave. Inspired by hazy memories of Garp’s insane training feats and driven by the system’s clear feedback loop (100 punches = 1 EXP, at least initially), he’d set himself a daunting daily goal: twenty thousand punches.
The first few days were pure agony. His knuckles, scraped raw on day one, had bled, scabbed over, bled again, and eventually hardened into calloused, ugly lumps. His shoulders screamed, his arms felt like lead, his back ached from the repetitive strain. The sheer monotony was a mental battle almost as taxing as the physical one. He’d punch, count, breathe, punch, count, his world shrinking to the impact against stone, the ache in his body, and the slow, slow crawl of the Physique EXP bar on his internal display. Some days, fueled by sheer terror after a distant glimpse of a Fishman patrol or a particularly unsettling jungle noise, he’d push past the 20,000 mark. Other days, exhaustion or lack of food would leave him falling short. But he averaged well over the necessary count to feed the system’s hunger for EXP.
[Physique Attribute EXP +1] became the punctuation mark to his days, chiming hundreds of times. The level-up notifications, initially requiring just a handful of points, gradually demanded more, forcing him to push harder, longer.
[Physique Attribute Leveled Up! Current Level: 10!]
[Physique Attribute Leveled Up! Current Level: 15!]
[Physique Attribute Leveled Up! Current Level: 20!]
After ten relentless days of this self-inflicted torture, the results were undeniable. He checked his status:
Physique: Lv.22 (150/276 EXP)
Level 22. From absolute zero. He felt it. The change wasn’t just calloused knuckles. His body felt denser, harder. Lean muscle, forged through constant exertion and fueled by bizarre alien protein, now layered his frame where only average definition had been before. He moved with more certainty, his stamina noticeably increased. He could punch the wall for longer periods before the burning ache forced a pause. He wasn’t Garp, not by a universe mile, but he wasn’t the same helpless newcomer anymore.
Accompanying the Level 22 milestone, the System had offered another of its slightly jarring comparisons:
[Physique benchmark detected: Lv.22]
[Host’s current raw physical parameters (Strength, Speed, Durability) show potential comparable to individuals recognized at approximately 22,000,000 Berries within known power structures.]
[System Reminder: This reflects baseline physical potential ONLY. Combat skill, technique, experience, Haki application, Devil Fruits, and species advantages significantly impact actual combat effectiveness.]
Twenty-two million Berries. The number sounded impressive, echoing Arlong’s own initial bounty. For a fleeting moment, Mike felt a surge of pride. He’d achieved that potential baseline in just ten days of hellish training! Then, the System’s reminder and his own knowledge crashed the party.
Baseline physical potential only. That was the key. Arlong wasn’t just strong; he was a Fishman. Mike vaguely recalled the manga stating Fishmen possessed ten times the physical strength of a baseline human. Even if Mike’s ‘human’ physique was now rated at a 22 million potential, Arlong’s baseline Fishman physique likely started far higher and was augmented by years of fighting and cruelty.
Mike did some rough mental calculations, fueled by paranoia and the need to understand his enemy. “If my Lv.22 Physique is like a 22M potential human,” he muttered, pacing the small cave, “then a baseline Fishman might be equivalent to Lv.5-10 right off the bat? And Arlong isn’t baseline. He’s a leader, a monster who terrorizes this whole region.” He thought about Arlong’s feats described in summaries – shattering stone, wielding that giant Kiribachi blade. “His Physique level alone… has to be at least 50. Maybe even 60?”
The gap felt enormous, disheartening. “So why only a 20 million bounty?” The question hung in the air, then clicked with another piece of remembered lore.
“Jinbei. His brother. Became a Warlord, working for the Marines… or at least, having an agreement with them. Maybe Jinbei’s status kept the Marines from properly assessing Arlong’s threat level, kept his official bounty artificially low?” It made a grim sort of sense. The Marines might underestimate Arlong, but Mike couldn’t afford to. His Lv.22 Physique was progress, hard-earned progress, but against Arlong? He was still dangerously outclassed physically.
Which was why he hadn’t slacked off on the other half of his training. Every day, usually after the brutal Physique grind left him physically spent, he would retreat into the focused stillness of meditation. While his body screamed, his mind would reach inward, nurturing the Haki attribute, the core of spiritual energy that felt increasingly tangible within him.
The progress here was steadier, less painful, but required intense mental discipline. Minute by minute, hour by hour, the EXP ticked up.
Haki: Lv.27 (85/406 EXP)
Level 27. Fifteen levels gained in ten days of dedicated practice. He could feel the difference profoundly. The inner warmth was now a constant presence, a deep reservoir of energy he could sense within his core. It brought a clarity of mind, a resilience against the fear and despair that had threatened to swallow him whole initially. The constant, low-level hum of anxiety about his situation hadn’t vanished, but it no longer dominated his thoughts. He felt more centered, more aware of his own inner state.
This growth in his base Haki attribute had finally started to bear fruit in his Haki skills. The biggest breakthrough had come three days ago, during a meditation session. He’d been focusing on Observation Haki, trying to push that feeling of awareness outwards, when the proficiency bar had finally, blessedly, filled.
[Observation Haki Proficiency 1000/1000 Reached!]
Ping.
[Skill Leveled Up: Observation Haki Lv.1 -> Lv.2!]
[Effective Sensory Radius Increased to approx. 500 meters.]
[Activation Stability Significantly Improved.]
[Sensory Clarity Enhanced. Ability to distinguish presence strength and emotional states slightly improved.]
Mike had immediately tested it. Sitting in his cave, he closed his eyes and willed his Observation Haki active. Before, it had been like trying to tune a faulty radio – mostly static, occasional faint signals. Now, it was like flipping a switch. A wave of awareness expanded outwards from him smoothly, reliably.
It wasn’t sight, exactly, but a complex overlay of sensory information. He could ‘feel’ the life signatures within the 500-meter radius – the small, flickering presences of insects and strange jungle critters, the larger, calmer signatures of grazing animals he hadn’t even known were nearby, the dense, ancient feeling of the giant trees themselves. He could distinguish the terrain – the solidness of rock, the sponginess of moss, the faint trickle of the stream now clearly ‘located’ even though he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t quite read minds or predict the future yet, but the constant, reliable awareness of his surroundings within that radius was a game-changer.
No more stumbling blindly near Fishmen patrols. He could sense presences long before they came into view, giving him precious time to hide or evade. It was the single biggest boost to his survival odds since the System activated.
His Armament Haki was progressing slower, but steadily.
Armament Haki: Lv1 (628/1000 Proficiency)
He practiced activating it daily, usually during his punching routines, trying to coat his fists just before impact. Initially, it had been wildly inconsistent – maybe working once every fifty punches, the ‘invisible armor’ flickering into existence for a split second before vanishing. Now, after ten days of practice fueled by his growing Haki pool, he could manage it maybe one in every five or ten tries. He could feel the faint, hardening sensation overlaying his skin more reliably, and sustain it for a second or two when successful. It still drained his Haki attribute noticeably, and Lv1 felt weak, but reaching 60% proficiency felt like solid progress. “Another ten days of this, maybe twenty,” he estimated, “and I should hit Level 2.”
Conqueror’s Haki remained the enigmatic outlier.
Conqueror’s Haki: Lv.1 (134/1000 Proficiency)
Ten percent. In ten days. Pitiful progress. He’d tried meditating on it, focusing his willpower outwards, remembering the fear and anger from the beetle chase, but deliberate activation seemed impossible. He suspected the few points he had gained came from two moments during his grueling Physique training where frustration and pain had peaked, causing a barely perceptible ripple of pressure outwards that made the cave dust stir and his own head swim before dissipating. It was uncontrollable, exhausting when it did trigger accidentally.
He leaned back against the cool cave wall, taking stock. Ten days of hell. He was bruised, calloused, constantly hungry despite foraging efforts, and utterly isolated. He missed Earth with an ache that never truly faded – missed real food, hot showers, friends, safety.
But he wasn’t helpless anymore. Physique Lv.22. Haki Lv.27. Observation Haki Lv.2, his reliable early warning system. Armament Haki showing promise. He was stronger, tougher, more aware. The gap between him and Arlong was still terrifyingly vast, but it wasn’t infinite. Not anymore.
He looked at his scraped knuckles, then flexed his fingers, feeling the newfound density in his hand. It was slow, agonizing work. But every point of EXP, every level gained, was a small victory, a step further away from being prey.
A grim smile touched his lips. It was progress. Hard-earned, painful, but undeniably real. And in this world, progress was hope. Fueled by that hope, and the ever-present fear, he pushed himself off the wall. Time for today’s twenty thousand punches.