The Marine battleship was a fortress of iron and wood, but to me, it was a blurred background. Garp had tossed me onto a pile of coiled rope near the stern. One moment, he was staring at me with that bone-shaking intensity; the next, his head snapped down, a large snot bubble began to grow from his nose, and a thunderous snore echoed across the deck.
The legendary Marine Hero was fast asleep, standing perfectly upright.
'Finally... some rest.'
I leaned back against the railing, closed my eyes, and turned my focus inward. The physical world faded, replaced by the humming vibration of the Mindwheel.
In the center of my consciousness, the twelve stone slots of the Zodiac stood like monoliths in a void. Eleven remained like cold, dead obsidian, but the Dragon was alive. It pulsed with a rhythmic, emerald light that felt like a heartbeat.
[Interface Initialized: Dragon Talisman]
[Current Vessel: Ryujin (Human, Age 7)]
[Power Source: Nether-Essence]
As I focused on the glowing slot, the detailed mechanics of my "cheat" unrolled like a spectral scroll.
Status: Skill I - Requiem of Souls
Active Range: 1km radius (The Dead Zone).
Harvest Count: 0/1,000 Residual Spirits.
Note: The wheel hungers. Without souls, the Dragon is but a shadow.
Status: Skill II - Wraith King
Multiplier: 10x (Kingly Ambition / Spirit Strength).
Defense Status: INACTIVE (Requires 1+ Loyal Soul).
Warning: Your body is currently mortal. Damage transfer is disabled until the first synthesis.
Status: Skill III - Sacrifice
Available Souls: 0.
Note: The gift of life requires the currency of death.
Status: Skill IV - Incarnation (0/12)
Note: The Dragon does not move; it extends.
I stared at the Skill II entry. Even without a single soul in my "Hoard," the 10x multiplier was active. It explained why the Sea King had fled and why Garp had looked at me with such suspicion. My very soul was ten times "heavier" than a normal human's. To a master of Haki like Garp, I must have looked like a small, flickering sun.
'1,000 spirits...' I thought, looking toward the horizon.
In this world, life was cheap. Between the pirates, the wars, and the outcasts of the Gray Terminal, the harvest would be inevitable. But the warning on Skill II was chilling. I had no "extra lives." I was a seven-year-old boy in a world where a stray cannonball could end my journey before it truly began.
I opened my eyes. The snot bubble on Garp's nose popped with a sharp crack, and the giant man blinked, suddenly awake.
"WAHAHA! A good nap!" Garp shouted, looking down at me as if he'd forgotten I was there. "Oi, Ryujin! We're coming up on Dawn Island. See that mountain? That's where the real monsters live."
He looked at me, waiting for the typical terrified reaction of a child being told about a monster-filled forest.
I didn't answer. I didn't tremble. I simply gave a single, slow, and measured nod.
Garp's grin faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes narrowing. He didn't see the fear he expected; he saw a calm that was almost unnatural. "Hmph. Brave brat... or a stupid one. We'll find out soon enough!"
He grabbed me by the collar of my damp shirt as the ship's anchor hit the water with a massive splash. We had arrived.