Chapter 4 — Not Everyone Is Called "Friday"
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Before he even realized it, a full month had passed since Jack activated the Infinity Gauntlet.
In that entire month, not a single ship appeared on the horizon. Not even a ghost of a sail.
What was everywhere, however, were ferocious beasts—fighting, hunting, killing nonstop.
And Jack, now a Zoan-type Weasel-Weasel Fruit: Honey Badger Model user—"Honey Badger Man"—was clearly showing signs of evolving into a full-blown hotheaded brawler.
As far as Devil Fruit users went, aside from the classic weaknesses—seawater, Seastone, and Haki—there were always side effects.
Take that ice guy who loves napping through winter and somehow bikes everywhere.
Or the rubber-bodied glutton whose stomach expands without limits.
Or that magma-powered red dog who looks at everyone like they owe him billions of Beli.
These traits were especially pronounced among Zoan users. While inheriting an animal's physical strengths, they also unconsciously picked up instincts, habits, and even personality traits.
For example—
Someone who eats the Egg-Egg Fruit might suddenly really enjoy laying eggs…
Don't ask why.
And don't ask why the Egg-Egg Fruit is Zoan instead of Paramecia.
As for Jack, whenever he activated the honey badger ability, he became…
Extremely hungry.
And extremely eager to pick fights.
Didn't matter whether he could win.
Didn't matter whether it was edible.
Charge first—think later.
Back on Earth, that kind of guy would be labeled a reckless troublemaker—the type who won't stop until he crashes headfirst into a brick wall and breaks it.
So within just one month of gaining his Devil Fruit power, Jack rapidly evolved from a cautious survivalist into a fearless, everything-punching menace—basically a feral kid who'd swipe at anything that moved.
Maybe the Honey Badger Fruit didn't grant god-tier offensive power, but that stubborn, unyielding hide sent a clear message to every predator on the island:
This fight will not be worth it.
Relying on his absurd defense and regeneration, Jack repeatedly escaped from the jaws of apex predators that should've killed him ten times over.
Fruit was no longer his only food.
His main diet now consisted of whatever carnivorous beast he beat into submission.
That included one unlucky giant sea turtle that crawled ashore under cover of night, hoping to snack on him—only to be counter-killed after Jack transformed.
Crunchy. Tastes like chicken.
Hiding in your shell?
Think that'll save you?
Care to meet teeth sharp enough to crack turtle shells like potato chips?
And so, in just one month—thanks to constant high-protein meals, proper nutrition, and nonstop life-or-death sparring—Jack successfully grew from a useless freeloader into…
…a slightly less useless freeloader with muscles.
The bronze-toned, well-defined physique he now possessed was something Earth-era Jack wouldn't have dared to dream of.
On this island, aside from the three apex overlords, there wasn't a single creature he couldn't deal with. Even if he couldn't win, he could always escape.
Environment really does shape people.
Well…
Except freeloaders.
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One year later.
On a completely isolated island somewhere in the ocean, a young man in his early twenties—wearing nothing but a piece of animal hide to cover the parts the content censors cared about—was beating the absolute hell out of a 25-meter-tall black gorilla.
One of the island's three apex rulers—a massive white tiger with majestic fur—had already been "trained" into a docile oversized house cat.
A hundred-meter-long python had become Jack's nighttime sleeping nest (coiled up).
Cold, but cozy.
Only this gorilla still refused to behave, rebelling every few days like clockwork.
So after more than a year on the island, Jack's primary daily entertainment had become:
Eat. Sleep. Punch Gorilla.
After slamming the "cunning" gorilla to the ground for who-knew-how-many-times, the beast once again shamelessly put on a flattering grin.
Ignoring the massive lumps all over its head, it looked no different from a zoo gorilla begging tourists for snacks.
Unfortunately, Jack had fallen for this trick one too many times.
"I'm telling you, Big Black," Jack muttered, sitting in front of it,
"you're the textbook example of someone who remembers food but forgets pain."
"Look at Little White and Flower."
"Living the dream."
"Eat, sleep, repeat."
"Now think about your old days—fighting nonstop over territory."
"And look at life now!"
"What's yours is mine. What's mine is still mine."
"Such a simple truth—how do you still not get it?"
Jack rambled endlessly.
After a year without another human to talk to, the fact that he hadn't gone insane was already a testament to his mental toughness.
Now that he'd finally found a somewhat intelligent gorilla, someone had to suffer—and it sure wasn't going to be him.
Which was exactly why, out of the three apex beasts, this one was always trying to escape.
Did it really think getting beaten didn't hurt?
Unfortunately for Big Black, being punched was still preferable to enduring Jack's nonstop verbal assault.
So it chose resistance.
It chose escape.
But no matter how big the island was, it was still an island.
Where could it run?
After the first few successful escapes—thanks to its familiarity with the terrain—it enjoyed a few peaceful days.
Then came endless suffering.
Each time, Jack caught it faster than before. This time, it barely made it an hour before getting tracked down and beaten senseless again.
Life was unbearable.
If Big Black could talk, it would've been crying and begging Jack to leave it alone and go harass the other two instead.
An hour later, after satisfying his urge to talk someone's ear off, Jack finally let the poor gorilla—now mentally shattered—go.
The gorilla fled immediately, leaving Jack with a sudden sense of parental sympathy.
Raising kids is hard, he sighed.
Once they grow wild, they're impossible to manage.
After finishing his daily "entertainment," Jack climbed the tallest tree in the forest and looked out toward the horizon.
More than a year had passed.
His heart had long gone from hopeful… to numb.
He had made up his mind.
If no ship passed through this sea soon, he'd build a bamboo raft and leave on his own.
He knew full well that even with the Infinity Gauntlet and Devil Fruit powers, a flimsy raft had almost no chance of safely reaching another island.
But he couldn't wait anymore.
Better to die at sea after giving it everything he had than rot here forever as a savage.
The old Jack—who believed that living miserably was better than dying well—never would've had the guts.
But a year of primitive life had completely changed him.
At the very least, he was done with living like a wild man.
After all—
Not everyone is called "Friday."