Items purchased from the trading market could be stored or retrieved from the backpack at any time, which was incredibly convenient.
Xiano first took out the katana "Masamune."
He drew the sword from its sheath.
The long blade shimmered with a frost-like luster under the sunlight, yet maintained an astonishingly slender curve.
Holding it up before his eyes, he examined it carefully.
The edge, as thin as a cicada's wing, displayed a gradient of colors. Starting from the hilt, it was a deep indigo reminiscent of the ocean, fading into a nearly transparent pale white at the tip.
He finished the remaining cola in one gulp, tossed the empty can into the air, and with a swift motion, sliced it into several pieces without any resistance.
The afterimage of the blade's movement left a silver trail in the air, like a fleeting firefly.
"A fine sword," Xiano murmured with admiration.
The weight was just right, and the feel in his hand was excellent.
The blacksmith shop in the neighboring town of his hometown was quite famous in the nearby islands. Back when he was obsessed with swordsmanship training, he had eagerly visited it.
But none of the swords there could compare to this one—the difference was like heaven and earth.
He sheathed the sword.
The length of the blade wasn't an issue. His body was just entering its growth phase, and once he grew a bit taller, it would be a perfect fit for him.
After putting it back into his backpack, Xiano opened the two Six Styles manuals.
The moment he opened them, a random selection was completed, revealing "Shave" and "Iron Body."
"Good luck."
The young man's mood grew even more cheerful. These two techniques—one focused on movement, the other on defense—were exactly what he currently favored.
With a thought, he first flipped through the Iron Body manual.
Manual-type items were displayed directly in front of him, like a system panel, with pages simulated by his thoughts, somewhat resembling an e-book.
The text inside was extremely detailed, even including step-by-step breakdowns of each move.
For the more obscure parts, a faint blue figure would appear beside the text, demonstrating the moves meticulously, making it very intuitive.
His ability to quickly master the Breathing Fist Technique in the past was partly due to this teaching method.
"The entry barrier isn't high, but mastering it will still require a lot of hard work."
After skimming through the two Six Styles manuals, Xiano's eyes flickered as he roughly estimated his progress.
His current physical condition had improved significantly compared to when he first started practicing the Breathing Fist Technique.
Coupled with the Breathing Fist Technique's unique ability to quickly alleviate muscle fatigue, his progress in physical training would undoubtedly far surpass that of ordinary people.
Even with a conservative estimate, he could master both techniques within a year.
"Within a year…"
Xiano shook his head slightly. In the past, he would have been very satisfied with this speed.
But now, with Arlong looming over him like a massive boulder, he needed to progress faster—much faster!
Fortunately.
He had been extremely lucky this time, obtaining a useful enhancement item.
His gaze fell on the last item in his backpack, and Xiano's eyes were filled with barely contained anticipation.
He had never owned any auxiliary training tools before. His current strength was entirely the result of his own relentless, step-by-step hard work.
Now, it was time to experience the feeling of having a speed boost!
...
Half an hour later.
In the spacious chamber on the underground level.
Xiano looked around and nodded in satisfaction.
This place was originally a backup armory. Due to the relatively safe route of the Gatt in recent years, it had been left unused and unattended, covered in dust and cobwebs.
When Xiano found Gatt and requested a room for physical training, the Old Man immediately remembered the place. He quickly called for help to clean it up, brought in a few sandbags, and some discarded wood, which he tied together with hemp rope to make crude wooden stakes.
Even mirrors, water, and towels were all prepared, and he forbade other crew members from disturbing them, which truly warmed Xiano's heart.
"Let's begin."
Xiano carefully placed the Statue of Heracles in the corner, then took a deep breath and started jogging in circles to warm up.
After warming up, he didn't immediately start practicing the Six Styles. Instead, he chose to continue practicing the Breathing Fist Technique.
After all, the bottleneck of this technique was already faintly visible.
If he could break through to mastery early, the combat enhancement it would provide would far surpass the initial stages of the Six Styles.
...
Time flew by.
Six days later, the Gatt sailed smoothly on the ocean under the afternoon sun.
This route was indeed safe enough; there were no more accidents, nor did they encounter any Pirate ships flying the Jolly Roger.
In the underground cabin.
The continuous thumping sounds echoed endlessly as a robust figure darted back and forth between the wooden stakes and sandbags. The wooden floor was covered in wet sweat marks.
"One thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine... two thousand, stop!"
The counting voice echoed in the confined space. The young man's spine was like a fully drawn bowstring, and as his fist touched the teak stake, he suddenly retracted his force. An invisible wave penetrated it, and with a crack, a circular fissure appeared on the surface of the stake.
"Whew..."
Xiano suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, his body steaming, and his breathing heavy like a bellows.
With each inhalation, his diaphragm sank to twice the depth of a normal person, and the muscles between his ribs bulged like sails. At the moment of exhalation, his throat bones vibrated, and the pressure from his alveoli expanding outward was visible to the naked eye.
He closed his eyes to adjust his breathing rhythm, and it took a long time for him to gradually calm down.
When he took a dry towel to wipe his sweat, scalding hot steam continued to rise from the pores of the towel.
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Xiano tilted his head back and gulped down water, then threw the empty bottle aside and wiped his mouth.
"Refreshing!"
The deep voice that came from his throat still felt unfamiliar, even to himself.
Previously, it had carried a hint of childishness, but now it seemed to have directly crossed the final stage of adolescence, completely transforming into an adult's voice.
"Six days, only six days!"
Xiano stepped in front of the mirror, the wooden floor creaking under his feet. Looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar reflection, he grinned, his eyes filled with satisfaction.
Over these past few days.
He had spent more than twelve hours each day here, training hard. The amount of effort he had put in, the sweat he had shed, perhaps only the silent statue in the corner knew besides himself.
But the results of his training would eventually bear witness to everything!
On the sixth day, which was today, he finally broke through the bottleneck, achieving mastery in the Breathing Fist Technique!
The barrier that had once constrained his physical limits was like a fragile glass container being crushed, breaking apart inch by inch.
Then it expanded and reforged itself wildly, its capacity far exceeding before, giving him a transcendent feeling of looking down from above, as if he had transformed into a new species.
The change in his voice was one of the significant transformations brought about by this breakthrough.
It was also the most insignificant of changes.
Xiano examined himself in the mirror.
His face was still delicate, but his eyebrows had grown much darker, and his jawline had become more defined. His black hair, which had previously only reached his ears, had grown wildly, now covering his shoulders.
And his height—he had shot up by more than ten centimeters!
From his neck down, his muscles were coiled and robust, his shoulder blades bulging like battering rams. When he fully extended his latissimus dorsi, it directly obscured half of the mirror.
The most terrifying part was his spine. The thirty-three vertebrae churned and surged beneath his skin, as if something alive was lurking within. When he slightly arched his back, his entire spine tightened like a fully drawn heavy crossbow, emitting a sound that made one's teeth ache.
Compared to his body six days ago, it now seemed so frail.
He stood in front of the mirror for a long time.
He kept scrutinizing himself up and down, like an ancient craftsman admiring a masterpiece sculpture he had personally created, never tiring of the sight.
Snap!
He suddenly hooked two wooden stakes with his foot, kicked them upward, and caught them in his hands.
With a slight exertion of strength, the two wooden stakes were crushed simultaneously, exploding into countless fine fragments that fluttered down like dust.
The young man then spread his arms, freely feeling the immense strength surging within his body, far surpassing what he had before. Unable to contain his joy, he threw his head back and laughed heartily.
"HAHAHAHAHA!!!!"
His laughter shook the ceiling, causing dust to fall, and the vibrations reached all the way to the deck.
...
On the deck.
Gatt, who was leaning against the railing leisurely smoking his pipe, felt the intense vibrations beneath his feet. He recalled that Xiano had been eating and sleeping in the underground cabin for the past few days, never coming out for air.
He couldn't help but feel a bit worried.
After hesitating for a moment, he descended the spiral staircase and arrived in front of the spare armory, slowly raising his right hand.
Creak~
Just as he was about to knock, the wooden door was forcefully pushed open from the inside, startling him and causing him to instinctively take a step back.
"Huh?"
The person opposite him looked down and noticed him, letting out a soft sound of surprise.
Old Jarte looked up at the familiar face, seemingly unharmed. His gaze shifted downward, and he saw that the young man had already put on that bulky coat, making it hard to notice any changes.
But why did he feel something was off...
Wait!
Suddenly realizing something, Gatt's mouth fell open, and the pipe he was holding clattered to the ground.
When they had first met, the young man had been half a head shorter than him. How was it that now, he had to look up to meet his gaze?!
"Mr. Gatt, what brings you here? What a coincidence."
The black-haired young man scratched his head, revealing a shy and innocent smile. "I haven't eaten for half a day, and I suddenly feel a bit hungry. I was just about to head to the dining hall. Would you like to join me?"
(End of Chapter)