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Chapter 9: Expert Tutoring
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 08:29:49 +0000 UTCThe next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Kyle was yanked from his hammock by Rayleigh and tossed directly onto the deck. The cold sea breeze instantly sobered him up considerably.
Roger and Rayleigh stood before him like two door gods, one on each side.
Roger crossed his arms with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the show; Rayleigh pushed up his glasses with a serious expression.
"Before you begin learning how to use your Devil Fruit abilities more effectively, there's something you must understand." Rayleigh's voice was calm but left no room for argument. "Devil Fruits grant you 'power,' but it's your own body that bears this power. Physical strength is the foundation of everything."
He pointed at Roger: "This guy has no Devil Fruit abilities, but do you think fighting him again would yield any different results?"
Kyle glanced at Roger, who was grinning so wide his gums showed, and decisively shook his head. Yesterday's punch still cast a shadow over his heart.
"So your first training will be physical combat." Rayleigh continued. "This includes strengthening your physical condition and weapon training. What weapon do you plan to use?"
Kyle had actually been thinking about this question for a while. His Wave-Wave Fruit had some similarities to the Tremor-Tremor Fruit of that "World's Strongest Man" and "sea-roaming family man who adopts sons everywhere"—Whitebeard.
Theoretically, he could completely replicate some of the effects that the Tremor-Tremor Fruit could achieve.
"I want to use a glaive," Kyle answered seriously, then, considering this world might not have that term, added, "A long-handled, large blade."
"Oh?" Roger became interested. "Why that choice?"
"My ability can manipulate 'waves,' which means vibrations," Kyle explained. "If I use a long-handled weapon, I can conduct vibrations through the handle to the blade, releasing them at the moment of impact to create shockwave-like effects. It maintains distance while increasing destructive power."
He pictured Whitebeard wielding Murakumogiri, shattering the very air with a single strike. Though he was still light-years away from that level, it was undoubtedly a direction worth pursuing.
"I see, a naginata then." Roger nodded knowingly. "Good thinking, little Kyle! Using weapons to amplify your Devil Fruit abilities—guhahahaha!"
Rayleigh's eyes behind his glasses also flashed with approval. This boy not only had talent but clear thinking—far more valuable than brute force alone.
"Since you've decided, here's your training regimen." Rayleigh produced a piece of paper from somewhere and handed it to Kyle.
Kyle looked it over, and his eye couldn't help but twitch.
Kyle's Exclusive Physical Enhancement Menu
1. Morning Exercise: Weighted running around the ship for 100 laps (speed determined by the captain's mood).
2. Morning: Seawater resistance training—rope around waist connected to ship, swimming against current behind the ship until exhaustion (captain will randomly throw fish, barrels, and other obstacles).
3. Afternoon: Weapon basics and combat practice. Instructors: Rayleigh (basics), Roger (combat).
4. Evening: Extreme evasion training. Stand in the center of the deck and dodge "Barrage of Love" from captain and first mate. Each hit reduces dinner by half.
5. Night: Meditation and Devil Fruit precision control practice.
"This..." Kyle looked at the conditions about "ship speed determined by captain's mood," "randomly thrown obstacles," and that inhumane "Barrage of Love," breaking into a cold sweat.
I'm sweating buckets here, bro.
This training plan reeked of unreliability and disregard for human life. Is this you, incompetent teacher Rayleigh?
"What? Scared?" Roger leaned over, bumping him with his shoulder and laughing wickedly.
"No!" Kyle gritted his teeth, gripping the paper tightly, his eyes blazing with determination. "I accept!"
And so Kyle's miserable (crossed out) fulfilling life began.
On the first day, he hadn't even run thirty laps around the ship when Roger got excited and made the ship take a sharp turn, sending Kyle flying straight off and face-skidding across the deck for seven or eight meters.
On the second day: gurgle... gur... gurgle! (What Devil Fruit user can swim in seawater from the start?! Building resistance doesn't mean training like this!)
On the third afternoon, Rayleigh had just taught him the most basic grip and the slash, sweep, thrust, and stab techniques when Roger charged up with his sword: "Come on, little Kyle, time to test what you've learned!"
??? How was this different from "You've learned that one plus one equals two, now prove the Goldbach Conjecture!"?
"Clang! Clang! Clank!"
On the deck, Kyle wielded a makeshift naginata cobbled together from a wooden staff and a large blade, desperately parrying Roger's storm-like attacks.
Roger wasn't even using proper sword techniques—just simple slashes—but that overwhelming force made Kyle's hands numb, his arms ache, and forced him into constant retreat.
"Too slow! Too weak! There's no power in your blade!" Each of Roger's critiques hit Kyle's heart like a hammer blow.
The evening evasion training was even more brutal.
"Little Kyle, take my Flying Fish Tail Whip!"
"Kyle, watch out for the barrel on your right."
Kyle hopped around the center of the deck like a mouse being toyed with by two cats. Sometimes it was a slippery sea fish Roger threw, sometimes a wooden plank from Rayleigh—all at tricky angles and incredible speeds.
He could only dodge using the keen senses he'd developed on the deserted island.
"Thud!" He failed to dodge one and got smacked solidly in the rear by a sea fish.
"Guhahahaha! Direct hit! Dinner cut in half!" Roger's gleeful laughter echoed across the ocean.
Kyle clutched his rear, wanting to cry.
Why do ships at sea constantly echo with children's screams? Why is a six-year-old covered in bruises? Is this the distortion of human nature or the decay of morality?
Welcome to the documentary "Kyle's Redemption."
Of course, this was all narration, Kyle's mind automatically generated when he was delirious from training.
Days passed in this hellish training. Kyle collapsed, exhausted every day like a dead dog, his bones feeling dislocated, his body a patchwork of bruises, old injuries healing while new ones appeared.
Several times, he felt like he was dying, but whenever he reached his limit, Rayleigh would produce ointment to treat his wounds, and Roger would drag over a fragrant roasted sea beast to restore his strength.
They squeezed his potential in the harshest way while caring for him in the most direct manner.
Gradually, Kyle began changing from his initial complete passivity.
During weighted runs, he instinctively used weak shockwaves to counter some of the ground's reaction force, making his steps lighter.
When sparring with Roger, he stopped trying to take hits head-on and learned to coat his naginata's blade with high-frequency vibrations, detonating them upon collision with Roger's sword to dissipate some of the tremendous force.
Though he still got beaten until his handsome face swelled like a pig's head, at least he could last a few more moves.
Damn it, it's definitely ruining my good looks!
During evening "Barrage of Love" time, he used "Light Mirage" to its fullest, distorting light around his body at the moment projectiles approached, creating split-second visual errors to buy precious dodging time.
As for seawater resistance training... better not mention it.
What could he do? A Devil Fruit user soaking in seawater—what was he supposed to do?
Look in my eyes!
Roger and Rayleigh: Oh, right, forgot you're a Devil Fruit user. (Complete indifference)
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 they first met.
He held that crude naginata with steady breathing, focusing intently on Roger ahead.
"Ready, damn captain?"
"Guhahahaha! Bring it on, little Kyle!"
Before the words finished, Kyle moved! He stomped down hard—not charging, but channeling a shockwave into the deck!
"Tremor Step: Flash!"
The deck trembled slightly as the reaction force launched his body forward at several times his previous speed!
The naginata's blade cut a sharp arc through the air, a visible white aura humming along the edge.
Roger's eyes flashed with surprise, but his smile grew even brighter.
He maintained that casual stance, single-handed sword raised to meet Kyle's attack without dodging!
"CLAAAANG————!"
Amid the ear-splitting clash of metal, a powerful shockwave exploded outward from their collision point!
Kyle was forced back several steps, leaving seven or eight deep footprints on the deck before stabilizing, blood seeping from his hands, his chest churning.
But Roger—for the first time—actually took half a step back.
Though only half a step, Roger's smile was happier than if he'd discovered some legendary treasure.
"Guhahahahahaha! Well done, Kyle!"
Kyle leaned on his naginata, breathing heavily, but his face showed the most satisfied smile in over a month.
Rayleigh leaned against the mast nearby, a gratified smile tugging at his lips.
