Six months.
Half a fucking year gone in the blink of an eye.
East Blue.
Out on the edge of a forgotten coast, under the gnarled shadow of an old ironwood tree, Jin stood shirtless — muscles cut like wire, sweat shining bronze under the morning sun.
Every breath felt like dragging fire through cracked lungs.
Every movement a war between body and will.
Yet he moved.
Move or die. That's the law.
Five-Dragon Fist — the old world's name whispered through scarred knuckles.
Left jab, right hook, twist and stamp.
His foot dug trenches into the packed earth, each step pounding raw power into bone and blood.
The heavy air rippled as if the very world shivered around his strikes.
A child?
No.
What moved here was a hungry beast wearing the skin of a boy.
Half an hour later, Jin stood still, chest heaving, breath ragged.
Inside, the flow roared — something new, something living.
Fuck yes… that's the edge of true Internal Force. Just one step more…
His purple eyes glinted, mind recalling the cruel day two months back when arrogance nearly killed him.
He'd gone hunting — sick of roasted fish and salted shark, craving real red meat.
No blade, no backup, just raw fists and pride.
At first it worked: he crushed a saber-toothed cat's skull with a single sneak-attack punch.
"Easy pickings," he'd scoffed, blood still hot on his knuckles.
Then he saw it.
A glade glowing under starlight, soft silver threads dancing over hidden leaves.
Starleaf grass!
Rare as fuck — a herb that could whip inner force into a wild storm.
And there, between him and the prize, a mountain of fur and hate:
A gray dire-bear, three meters of muscle, scars across its muzzle, eyes burning like coals.
I rushed it like a goddamn idiot…
What followed was pain, blood, and blind panic — Jin fled, shoulder shredded, heart pounding, lungs on fire.
One week in bed. One week remembering that pain has teeth.
Yet here, months later, scars faded to lines and power burned brighter.
Jin flexed his young body, feeling strength coil like a loaded spring.
His mercenary mind measured coldly:
Age: 7
Raw lifting force: ~1,500 kilos
Burst strength? Possibly double.
Not bad… for a brat still growing.
Yet raw power wasn't enough.
If I don't push past the last wall — awaken full Inner Force, break the "Vein Gate," there's no future.
He knew what lay beyond:
Inner Force (Bright Stage): full muscle & bone control
Hidden Force (Dark Stage): force slips beneath the flesh, strikes from within
True Force (Peak): total mastery, body dances with mind
And beyond? Unknown. Even his master had died chasing it.
Fuck it. I'll chase it too.
Jin's small hand tightened around the battered wooden practice sword — a log roughly carved down to 30 kilos of stubborn, splintered weight.
"Alright, bastard. Thousand swings or I bleed out first."
He planted feet.
Breathed once.
And swung.
One. Ten. Fifty. A hundred.
Knuckles blistered, sweat burned his eyes, muscles spasmed in agony.
"Come on, son of a bitch…!"
Every strike louder than the last.
At swing six hundred, his arms trembled like dead wood.
At nine hundred, lungs wheezed like broken bellows.
At swing 1,123, vision blurred, and Jin crashed to his knees, sword biting the dirt.
"Fuck…" he panted, a wild grin splitting his sweat-soaked face.
"Past life, at six I barely managed a hundred. Now? Over a thousand. This is the road, Jin. This is YOUR road."
Sunset bled red across sky and sea.
Jin sat on a cracked step, gnawing dried shark meat, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Somewhere beyond lay Marines with iron fists.
Pirates drunk on power.
Warlords. Monsters. And that grinning fool… the boy with a straw hat.
I'm coming, motherfuckers. Wait for me.
When dusk fell, the sea breeze cooled burning skin.
Jin stood again in his courtyard, shadows dancing over the scars that mapped his body.
Fists rose.
The Five-Dragon Fist came alive once more.
"No rest. Not until I rip through that next gate."
Night fell, stars cold and sharp above.
In the still dark, Jin's small figure moved, striking, stepping, breathing — every movement a prayer to power, every drop of sweat an offering to freedom.
No glory, no applause.
Just a child, a scarred heart, and a promise:
To live free. To grow strong. And never bow again.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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