The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Kyle was plucked from his hammock by Rayleigh and unceremoniously dropped onto the deck. The cold sea breeze instantly sobered him up.
Roger and Rayleigh stood before him, one on each side, like two imposing door gods.
Roger, arms crossed, wore a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the show; Rayleigh, meanwhile, pushed up his glasses, his expression serious.
"Before you begin learning how to more effectively use your Devil Fruit ability, there's one thing you must understand," Rayleigh's voice was calm but brooked no argument. "The Devil Fruit grants you 'power,' but the vessel for that power is your own body. Physical conditioning is the foundation of everything."
He pointed to Roger: "This fellow has no Devil Fruit ability, but do you think the outcome would be any different if you fought him again?"
Kyle glanced at Roger, who was grinning so wide his gums showed, and decisively shook his head. The shadow of yesterday's punch still loomed in his mind.
"Therefore, your first training will be in physical combat," Rayleigh continued. "This includes strengthening your physique and weapon usage. What weapon do you plan to use?"
Kyle had actually been pondering this question for a while. His Bo Bo Fruit, in some aspects, bore a striking resemblance to the Tremor-Tremor Fruit of the 'world's strongest man,' the 'family man who adopted sons across the seas'—Whitebeard—from his memories.
Theoretically, he could completely replicate some of the effects achievable with the Tremor-Tremor Fruit.
"I want to use a guandao," Kyle answered seriously, then, considering the world might not have that term, added, "It's a large, long-handled saber."
"Oh?" Roger became interested. "Why choose that?"
"My ability allows me to control 'waves,' or vibrations," Kyle explained. "If I use a long-handled weapon, I can transmit vibrations through the handle to the blade, releasing them at the moment of impact to create an effect similar to a shockwave. This maintains distance and increases the destructive power of the attack."
In his mind, he pictured Whitebeard wielding Murakumogiri, his supreme and mighty figure shaking the very atmosphere with a single strike. Although he was still light-years away from that realm, it was undoubtedly a direction worth striving for.
"I see, a naginata then," Roger nodded understandingly. "Not a bad idea, Little Kyle! Using a weapon to amplify Devil Fruit abilities, kuhahahaha!"
A flicker of approval also passed through Rayleigh's eyes behind his lenses. This youth not only possessed talent but also a clear thought process, which was far more valuable than mere brute force.
"Since you've decided, this is your training plan." Rayleigh pulled out a piece of paper from who-knew-where and handed it to Kyle.
Kyle took it and read, his eye twitching uncontrollably.
"Kyle's Exclusive · Physical Enhancement Menu"
1. Morning Exercise: Weighted laps around the ship, one hundred circles (speed determined by Captain's mood).
2. Morning: Seawater Resistance Training, tethering waist to ship with a rope, swimming against the current behind the ship until exhaustion (during which the Captain will randomly throw fish, barrels, and other obstacles).
3. Afternoon: Weapon Fundamentals and Sparring. Instructors: Rayleigh (fundamentals), Roger (sparring).
4. Evening: Extreme Evasion Training. Stand in the center of the deck, dodge 'love-fed' projectiles from the Captain and First Mate. Hit once, dinner halved.
5. Night: Meditation and Fine Control Practice of Devil Fruit Abilities.
"This..." Kyle looked at "speed determined by Captain's mood," "randomly throw obstacles," and the inhumane "love-fed" projectiles, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Sweating profusely, my brother in chains.
This training plan, no matter how he looked at it, reeked of unreliability and disregard for human life. Is that you, Mediocre Master Rayleigh?
"What? Scared?" Roger leaned in, bumping him with his shoulder, his laugh utterly wicked.
"No!" Kyle gritted his teeth, clutching the paper tightly in his hand, a fierce fire burning in his eyes. "I accept!"
And so, Kyle's tragic (crossed out) fulfilling life began.
On the first day, he ran less than thirty laps around the ship before Roger, on a whim, made the ship take a sharp turn. Kyle was flung off, sliding seven or eight meters across the deck on his face.
On the second day, he gurgled...gu...gurgled! (What Devil Fruit user can swim in seawater from the start!? You don't train to increase resistance like this!)
On the afternoon of the third day, Rayleigh had just finished teaching him the most basic grip and techniques—chopping, sweeping, parrying, and thrusting—for the naginata when Roger charged up with a sword. "Come on, Little Kyle, it's time to test what you've learned!"
??? How is this different from "You've learned that one plus one equals two, now it's time to prove Goldbach's Conjecture!"?!
"Clang! Clang! Bang!"
On the deck, Kyle wielded a makeshift naginata, improvised from a wooden stick and a large blade, clumsily parrying Roger's torrential attacks.
Roger wasn't even using any sword techniques, just the simplest slashes, but the overwhelming force pressed Kyle's tiger's mouth until it was numb, his arms aching, and he was forced to retreat step by step.
"Too slow! Too soft! There's no power in your blade!" Each of Roger's comments was like a heavy hammer, striking Kyle's heart.
The evening evasion training was even more intense.
"Little Kyle, take this Flying Fish Tail Whip!"
"Kyle, watch out for the barrel on your right."
Kyle scrambled around the center of the deck, like a mouse being played with by two cats. Sometimes it was a slippery sea fish thrown by Roger, other times a wooden plank tossed by Rayleigh, both at tricky angles and incredibly fast speeds.
He could only rely on the keen senses he had developed on the deserted island to dodge.
"Thwack!" He missed one, and a sea fish smacked him squarely on the butt.
"Kuhahahaha! Hit! Dinner halved!" Roger's gloating laughter echoed across the sea.
Kyle clutched his butt, on the verge of tears.
Why did screams of a child often emanate from the ship on the sea? Why was a six-year-old covered in bruises? Behind this, was it a distortion of human nature or a degradation of morality?
Welcome to the grand documentary, "Kyle's Redemption".
Of course, the above content was purely the narration Kyle's mind automatically generated when he was being trained to the point of delirium.
Days passed in this grueling, hellish training. Kyle was exhausted every day, like a dead dog, his bones feeling like they were falling apart, his body covered in bruises, old wounds unhealed, new ones appearing.
Several times he felt like he was about to die, but whenever he neared his limit, Rayleigh would always produce ointment to treat his injuries, and Roger would bring a giant roasted sea beast, fragrant and delicious, for him to replenish his strength.
They pushed his potential to its limits with the harshest methods, and also cared for him in the most direct ways.
Gradually, Kyle began to change from his initial complete passivity.
During weighted runs, he subconsciously started using faint shockwaves to offset some of the reactive force from his feet, making his steps lighter.
When sparring with Roger, he no longer simply endured the blows. Instead, he learned to attach high-frequency vibrations to the naginata's blade, detonating them at the moment of impact with Roger's sword to deflect some of the immense force.
Although he still got beaten until his handsome face swelled up like a pig's head, at least he could last a few more moves.
Jealousy, it must be jealousy of my good looks!
And during the evening 'love-fed' time, he utilized Light Illusion Mirage to its extreme. At the moment various projectiles attacked, he twisted the light around his body, creating a visual error of a few tenths of a second, buying himself precious time for evasion.
As for the seawater resistance training... let's not even talk about it.
Well, I ask you, what can I do? What can a Devil Fruit user do when submerged in seawater?
Look in my eyes!
Roger, Rayleigh: Ah, we forgot you're a Devil Fruit user. (Completely unfazed)
One month later.
Under the setting sun, Kyle stood shirtless, his bronze skin covered in fine scars, but his muscle definition was far more fluid and solid than when he first arrived.
He held the crude naginata, his breathing steady, his gaze focused intently on Roger in front of him.
"Ready, you damn Captain?"
"Kuhahahaha! Bring it on, Little Kyle!"
Before his words faded, Kyle moved! He stomped his foot, not charging, but channeling a shockwave into the deck!
"Sonic Step - Instant!"
The deck trembled slightly, and a reactive force propelled his body forward at high speed, several times faster than before!
The naginata's blade cut a sharp arc through the air. On the edge of the blade, a visible layer of white energy hummed.
A flicker of surprise crossed Roger's eyes, but the smile on his face grew even wider.
He maintained his casual stance, sword in one hand, meeting Kyle's attack head-on, not dodging, and slashed down!
"Clang—!"
Amidst the ear-splitting clash of metal, a powerful air current exploded outwards, centered on the two of them!
Kyle was thrown back repeatedly, digging seven or eight deep footprints into the deck before steadying himself, his tiger's mouth bleeding, his chest churning with surging qi and blood.
And Roger, for the first time ever, took half a step back.
Though it was only half a step, the smile on Roger's face was happier than if he had discovered some peerless treasure.
"Kuhahahahahaha! Well done, Kyle!"
Kyle leaned on his naginata, panting heavily, but a genuine, uninhibited smile, the most heartfelt he'd shown in over a month, spread across his face.
Rayleigh, leaning against the mast nearby, curved his lips into a satisfied arc.