The massive ship of destiny was charging forward with an overwhelming force, and Crocodile realized he no longer had any path of retreat.
His golden hook reflected a cold glint under the setting sun, a light that stung his eyes and mirrored his current mix of fear and excitement.
The fear stemmed from anxiety about an unknown fate, while the excitement came from an unquenchable thirst for power.
In the distance, Bullet seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion.
This battle-crazed man, who had always reveled in combat and was known for his wild, unrestrained personality, now wore a rare expression of deep thought.
He occasionally stole glances at Ron with a mix of respect and longing.
The training ground was eerily silent, save for the mournful howl of the wind passing through the ruins of the crater.
The lingering dust hung in the air like a thick gray curtain, drifting and spreading.
Whitebeard slowly retracted his fist, looking at Jozu, who had been sent flying dozens of meters away.
"Gurararara! Kid, you've still got a long way to go!"
Jozu crawled out of the rubble, his diamond body covered in spiderweb cracks. Gasping for breath, he raised his hand in surrender.
"Pops... I admit defeat..."
Beads of sweat the size of peas continuously dripped from his chin, instantly evaporating on the scorching ground, turning into wisps of rising steam.
Marco stood not far away, his voice trembling involuntarily as he whispered.
"If we had unlimited funds, we could mass-produce strong haki users like Pops..."
Just as Ron was about to speak, Whitebeard suddenly raised his hand to interrupt.
He lowered his head slightly, thoughtfully rubbing the hilt of his massive bisento. "During the battle just now, I noticed something." His gaze swept over Jozu. "Jozu's Haki... it looks the same as mine, but it feels... like something is missing."
The scene immediately fell silent, everyone pricking up their ears.
Whitebeard furrowed his brow, struggling to find the right words to describe that subtle feeling.
Shaking his head, he sighed. "I can't quite explain it, but there's just this... sense of dissonance."
Ron nodded approvingly. "As expected of the Captain. Your observation is truly sharp."
He slowly walked to the center of the arena, his robes gently swaying in the breeze.
"The Haki Replacement Fruit does allow one to master the target's Haki instantly," Ron explained, "but that is all it does."
Seeing the confused expressions on everyone's faces, Ron cleared his throat and continued.
"Assuming the Captain's current Haki level is '100', then Jozu's replaced Haki is also '100'. It is a perfect copy."
As he spoke, he extended a slender finger and drew a horizontal line in the air.
"But the problem is... the three types of Haki should naturally improve as the user's strength grows. It is a living force."
Ace suddenly interjected, "Just like my Observation Haki—it gets stronger the more I use it in battle!"
"Exactly." Ron snapped his fingers. "But the replaced Haki will forever remain at the level it was acquired. It is a snapshot in time. Because it is essentially not your own Haki, it cannot evolve."
His gaze turned to Whitebeard. "What the Captain feels is missing isn't power—it's the 'soul' within the Haki. That innate, ever-evolving vitality that grows with the user."
Upon hearing Ron's explanation, Whitebeard's eyes instantly lit up, and he burst into laughter.
"Gurararara! That's it! It's like brewing wine—no matter how good the recipe is, you can't fake the sediment of time!"
Bullet stood to the side, thoughtfully stroking his chin.
In his mind, he kept replaying the conversation, secretly glad that he had chosen the Magma Enchantment over Haki Replacement.
A limit on growth was unacceptable to him.
The evening sun generously bathed the earth, stretching everyone's shadows long across the ruined ground.
Ron stood quietly at the boundary between light and shadow.
"So, to truly stand at the peak, you ultimately have to rely on your own training. These fruits are merely shortcuts on the path to strength, not the destination."
Hearing this, Jozu scratched his head in confusion, then chuckled honestly.
"So that's how it is! But that's fine too—let Pops continue training and growing stronger! Once I save up enough money, I'll just replace it again with his new level of haki!"
Ron: "???"
Bullet: "???"
Marco: "???"
Everyone else: "???"
The air froze.
Upon processing this, Whitebeard's face instantly turned green.
Veins bulged on his forehead, and his signature crescent mustache quivered with indignation.
"You damn brat!"
"You're treating me like a free training machine, huh?! I worked my ass off to train my Haki to the peak level, and you just plan to casually swap it out like a new shirt?!"
Jozu wasn't the least bit intimidated. Instead, he laughed even louder, straightened his back, and declared boldly, "Well, who told you to be our Father! A son taking advantage of his old man is only natural, isn't it?"
"Gurararara!"
Whitebeard laughed in extreme anger, yet his laughter carried a hint of indulgence.
"Ungrateful brat!" He shook his head helplessly, slamming his Murakumogiri back into the ground with such force that the earth trembled.
After the joking subsided, everyone fell into deep thought.
Ron's explanation couldn't have been clearer.
While the Haki Replacement Fruit could elevate someone to great heights instantly, it also acted like a shackle, forever locking away any potential for natural growth.
These words struck everyone like a heavy hammer, forcing them to reevaluate their pursuit of power.
Crocodile slowly exhaled a smoke ring, the gray wisp curling before his face as he analyzed the situation.
"For some people, this might actually be the best choice."
His gaze swept slowly over several weaker members of the crew. "After all, not everyone has the talent and perseverance to train top-tier Haki in a single lifetime."
Bullet, unusually, nodded in agreement. "I've trained bitterly until now to achieve this level." He clenched his magma-infused arm, veins bulging.
"While some people might train their whole lives without even mastering the basics of Armament."
Marco leaned against a broken wall and said softly, "So for those with limited talent, this fruit is practically a godsend, yoi."
Ace suddenly thought of something.
He pulled down his hat brim while muttering, "What if someone replaces their Observation Haki... wouldn't that mean they could never learn to foresee more distant futures?"
Ron gave him an approving look, his eyes sparkling with wisdom.
"Exactly. Every choice comes with a price."
Whitebeard took a large gulp of sake from a gourd, the liquid streaming down the corners of his mouth.
Wiping his lips, he laughed.
"Gurararara! So remember this, boys—there are no true shortcuts on the path to becoming the strongest!"
He looked around at his sons, his eyes filled with expectation.
"But... if any of you ungrateful sons really want my Haki..."
He deliberately drew out his words, then suddenly swung his massive fist.
"You'll have to take a punch from your Father first!"
Everyone burst into laughter, and the training ground returned to its usual lively atmosphere.
As the sun set in the west, it cast the long shadows of these men across the earth.
They might have chosen different paths—some through training, some through technology—but their hearts burned with the same passion for strength.
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