CHAPTER 2 — The Retired Master's Harsh Lessons
Morning arrived earlier than I wanted.
Again.
The sun hadn't even climbed fully over Shells Town's rooftops before someone started banging on my door like they were trying to break it down.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
"Damian! Wake up this instant!"
Ah.
Good morning, Helmeppo.
I rolled over on my futon, ignoring him.
"Damian! I know you're awake! Father wants you outside!"
"Tell Father I died," I mumbled.
"That won't work twice!"
I sighed and sat up, long hair falling messy around my face.
Training had been brutal yesterday, and my muscles felt like jelly held together by determination and bad decisions.
But this was the life I asked for.
I got dressed slowly—because rushing was for people who weren't born tired—and stepped outside to find Helmeppo tapping his foot like a spoiled rooster.
"You took so long!" he complained.
"I moved at peak speed," I answered, brushing past him.
"You walked."
"Exactly."
He puffed his cheeks like a balloon.
"I don't understand you at all! Why train so hard? You're already stronger than the kids in town!"
"That's the problem," I said. "Too easy. Boring."
His expression said he couldn't comprehend that sentence even if he had subtitles.
I didn't bother explaining.
Morgan's Test
The courtyard was unusually busy. Marines lined the edges, whispering. Morgan stood at the center, arms crossed, cape fluttering aggressively in the breeze.
Beside him was Master Retsu, the old martial arts instructor from yesterday, along with a wooden crate filled with…
training weapons?
Morgan spotted me.
"Damian. Today, I want to see how much potential you actually have."
"Okay," I said, scratching my head. "But can we do this after breakfast?"
"No."
"Worth a try."
Morgan gestured toward a Marine holding a wooden sword.
"Your task is simple. Disarm him."
I blinked.
"That's it?"
"For a child," Morgan smirked, "yes."
The Marine gulped. He was a grown man, well-built, probably in his twenties.
Meanwhile, I was a tall but still young teen.
This would be unfair.
For him.
Retsu gave me a quiet nod.
"Remember what I taught you. No wasted movement. Control your center."
"Got it."
The Marine lifted the practice sword shakily.
"A-Are you sure, Captain Morgan? He's just—"
"BEGIN!" Morgan roared.
The Marine swung wildly.
I stepped one inch to the left.
He missed.
He swung again—
I stepped back.
He swung a third time—
I ducked.
He stumbled forward, off balance.
I tapped his wrist with two fingers—gentle, but precise.
Clack.
The wooden sword popped out of his hand, spinning through the air and landing in the dirt.
Marines gasped.
Morgan raised an eyebrow.
Retsu stroked his beard.
"You didn't even strike," he said. "You just… poked him?"
"He overcommitted," I shrugged. "Easy to punish."
Then I yawned.
Everyone stared like I was some monster.
I wasn't.
Not yet.
Morgan stepped forward.
"Damian. Your strength… your talent…"
He exhaled sharply, annoyed.
"…you surpass my expectations."
I scratched my cheek.
"So can I go eat now?"
He clicked his tongue.
"Tch. Go."
I gave a lazy wave and walked toward the kitchen.
Behind me, I heard Marines whispering:
"That kid's freaky…"
"He disarmed Juto like he was nothing…"
"Way stronger than Helmeppo…"
"Will he join the Marines someday…?"
Join the Marines?
Eh.
Not interesting.
If I joined, I'd want to skip to Vice Admiral at least.
Paperwork sucks.
After Breakfast — Training With Retsu
The old master led me back outside once I finished eating three plates of eggs and rice.
"Today, we work on footwork," he said. "Your strength is fine. Your reflexes are excellent. But you move like someone who dodges instead of someone who controls the fight."
"Yeah, dodging is easier."
He smacked my head with his staff.
"Lazy brat."
I chuckled.
"Fine. Teach me."
He began demonstrating slow, precise steps—forward, back, diagonal, pivot, slide. Over and over, feet whispering against the ground.
I mimicked him.
At first it felt simple.
Then it felt difficult.
Then my brain started overheating.
"This is boring," I said.
"It's foundational," he replied.
"Still boring."
"You want to be the strongest man alive?"
"Yes."
"Then shut up and keep stepping."
"…Fair."
We repeated the movements until my legs shook.
Then we added strikes.
Then we added breathing control.
Then we added dodging.
Hours passed.
And Retsu didn't stop.
He might've been old, but age didn't slow him—it sharpened him.
"You're adapting fast," he said.
"I hate being bad at things," I answered.
We continued until sweat drenched my long hair and the sun dipped lower in the sky.
Retsu finally raised his hand.
"Enough."
I collapsed onto the ground spread-eagle.
"Dead. I'm dead."
"You're fine."
"No, I'm absolutely dying."
He flicked water at me.
"Get up. You still have your personal training, don't you?"
I groaned loudly.
"Why did you remind me…"
But I stood up anyway.
"Hard worker," Retsu muttered. "Hide it all you want, but you're a training demon."
"Shh," I said. "Don't expose me."
He laughed until he coughed.
Saitama Routine — Day 2
I headed toward the forest again, stretching lazily.
This routine had become my ritual.
My meditation.
My fun.
100 push-ups
100 sit-ups
100 squats
10 km run
I started with push-ups.
My arms trembled from the earlier training.
Good.
Next were sit-ups.
Painful but satisfying.
Then squats.
Legs screaming, core burned, lungs tight.
During the run, the wind cooled my face, and my long hair flew behind me like a black banner.
I loved this.
This feeling of constant improvement.
This burning in my muscles that told me I wasn't wasting this life.
On Earth, I wasted my potential.
Here?
Not again.
Back at Home — A Surprise
When I returned to the mansion, sweaty and exhausted, Helmeppo was waiting near the door, arms crossed.
He looked annoyed.
"What?" I asked.
"You're making me look bad," he said.
I blinked.
"That's not my intention."
He huffed.
"You train every day… Father praises you… the servants like you more… the Marines talk about you…"
He gritted his teeth.
"…and I'm supposed to be the better son."
I thought about it.
Then shrugged.
"Well, you can train too," I said.
He flinched like I slapped him.
"What?! Me?! Train?!"
He pointed at himself dramatically.
"I'm too handsome to sweat!"
"…You're hopeless."
"I KNOW!"
Then he stomped away.
I watched him leave.
"…He's kind of funny," I said to myself.
Nightfall — Quiet Resolve
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Today hurt.
Today was exhausting.
Today pushed me to my limit.
And tomorrow?
Would be worse.
Perfect.
This world was full of monsters.
Admirals.
Yonko.
Pirates.
Revolutionaries.
Sea Kings.
Legends.
If I wanted to stand above all of them…
I had to become a monster too.
With a lazy grin, I whispered:
"Let's see how far I can go."