Early chapters on Pátreon.com/Herd99.
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The midday sun hung over Marineford like a slow-cooked curse.
The air buzzed with heat. The yard shimmered. Marines moved with purpose—or at least pretended to.
At the center of the training field, Kain stood still. Hands in his pockets. Shoulders slouched. Expression unreadable.
He looked like he'd wandered out of bed by mistake.
Across from him, Vice Admiral Garp was stretching. The man's body cracked with every movement like a warship creaking under pressure. His sleeveless coat fluttered as he rolled his shoulders, each motion casual and loud.
Garp's grin was the only warning.
"Alright, kid!" he boomed. "Before we start real training, I've got a warm-up for ya!"
Kain didn't blink. "Let me guess. Does it involve pain? Maybe carrying 20 boulders to the top of the cliff while juggling all at once?"
"It involves you becoming less useless!" Garp replied cheerfully.
Kain sighed. "Can't we skip to the part where I nap and learn something through osmosis?"
"You wish." Garp cracked his knuckles. "We're doing this my way."
A small crowd of Marines had gathered at a safe distance. Word spread quickly in Marineford when Garp was about to do something… Garp-like.
"Fine," Kain muttered. "What kind of 'warm-up' are we talking about? Pushups? Punching bags? A staring contest?"
Garp grinned wider. "We're going to Monster Island."
The yard went silent.
Several Marines gasped audibly. Someone dropped their water bottle.
Kain blinked. "Monster… what now?"
"Island," Garp repeated. "Big jungle. Big beasts. Big danger. Perfect for training!"
"That sounds like something you'd see in a brochure for people with a death wish."
Garp nodded, dead serious. "Exactly. It builds character."
Kain stared at him, lips tight. "How long are we doing this suicide mission?"
"A week."
Kain's eye twitched. "A week?"
"Yep. Seven days of bonding through violence."
"That's not a thing."
"It is now!"
Garp stepped forward, all muscle and momentum, and grabbed Kain by the collar like he weighed nothing.
"I didn't agree to—"
Too late.
With a laugh that could crack boulders, Garp launched them both into the sky.
The world blurred. Ocean wind whipped past Kain's ears. Garp held him one-handed like a grocery bag. Kain's coat flapped wildly behind him, his boots kicking at the air in a geppo that left shockwaves.
"I GAVE NO CONSENT!" Kain shouted into the wind.
"You'll thank me later!" Garp roared, voice louder than the air itself.
They broke through a cloudbank. Kain saw nothing but blue below them and a fast-approaching green blot on the horizon.
Monster Island.
It didn't look friendly.
The landing was more of a controlled crash. Garp slammed down first, his boots leaving cracks in the earth. Kain hit the ground a few seconds later—less gracefully. He rolled, coughed, and immediately regretted being conscious.
He sat up slowly, brushing leaves off his coat.
The island was loud.
Birds screeched from unseen trees. Something big roared in the distance. The air smelled like damp earth and danger.
"This sucks already," Kain muttered.
Garp was already stretching again. "Here's how this goes: You survive. Use your Devil fruit if you have any, your brain, or your laziness. Whatever. I don't care how. Just don't die."
"That's a terrible mission briefing Vice Admiral."
"The rules are simple: Survive for seven days. Against me. And against them."
He pointed into the jungle. As if on cue, another roar echoed across the trees.
Kain stood slowly, brushing dirt from his shoulder. "And if I don't survive?"
Garp grinned. "Then I'll know you weren't worth the effort."
"…Cool."
There was no signal.
No countdown.
No warning.
Garp moved faster than he had any right to. His fist rocketed into Kain's chest with the kind of force normally reserved for natural disasters.
Kain flew.
He crashed into a tree, bounced off it, and groaned as he hit the ground with a thud that rattled the birds out of the canopy.
He sat up, coughing. "What the hell was that?!"
Garp cracked his knuckles again. "Round one."
"You punched me before I was even ready!"
"No such thing as 'ready' in a fight, kid!"
Kain's body ached, and he'd only been on the island for five minutes.
From the edge of the jungle, more roars began to rise.
The monsters had heard them.
Of course they had.
Kain slumped against a tree, dusting off his coat again. "I should've just stayed in bed…"
The island was waking up. So were its predators.
And Garp? Garp wasn't going to slow down.
For Kain, this wasn't training.
It was a very stupid, very violent vacation.
And it had only just begun.
-
The jungle smelled like sweat, moss, and murder.
Thick trees loomed over the dirt path as Kain limped through the underbrush, one hand on his ribs, the other wiping sweat from his brow. The air was humid enough to drown in, and the distant sound of monsters stomping through the foliage didn't help his nerves.
Day One.
Hour Three.
Pain Level: Unreasonable.
He glanced at the Shonen System interface hovering beside him.
[Ongoing Quest: Survive Garp's Training]
-Objective: Survive for 7 days on Monster Island while being hunted by Vice Admiral Garp and wild beasts.
-Current Progress: 3 hours survived.
-Status: You're not dead yet. Congrats.
-Suggestion: Keep moving.
Kain grumbled under his breath. "Thanks for the life-affirming update, system."
Behind him, a distant boom echoed through the jungle—Garp's version of knocking.
Kain ducked behind a thick tree root and kept moving.
Kain's boots crunched through dead leaves and roots as he weaved through the jungle, keeping his Haki sense active as much as he could without burning out. It wasn't enough to fight Garp.
He was regretting ignoring Kenboshuko Haki. The temporary version wasn't even in the system store. The only item available was "Don't Die, With Style."
So far, he'd dodged two sneak punches, evaded a rock thrown with the speed of a cannonball, and narrowly avoided getting stomped by a rhino-lizard hybrid the size of a patrol ship.
He paused near a shallow stream, dipping his fingers into the water. Cold. Clear. He splashed some on his face and caught his breath.
Then a tree behind him exploded.
Garp stood there, fist raised, shirt half unbuttoned, looking like someone who thought this was all a beach day.
"I can smell naps, you know," the old man said casually. "And you reek of procrastination."
"Wow," Kain muttered. "I always dreamed of being hunted by a Haki-bloodhound."
He bolted before Garp could reply. Luckily his Soru was competent enough for escaping.
By the end of Day One, the monsters had made their presence known.
Garp hadn't killed any of them. He didn't need to. His presence alone stirred the entire ecosystem into chaos, like he was an invasive species of violence.
Kain stumbled into a clearing and immediately regretted it.
Something the size of a bus—part bear, part scorpion—was gnawing on a giant snake carcass. Its mandibles clicked. Its black eyes locked on Kain like a menu option.
"Oh good," Kain muttered, raising his hands. "You're real."
The beast roared.
Kain used Nap Dash with Soru, enhancing his speed so that he blinked behind a tree as the creature lunged and snapped its jaws on air.
His instincts kicked in, and he used a burst of Lazy Dragon's Roar, aiming a wide arc of energy toward the monster's feet—not to kill as that would take too much effort and time-but to kick up debris and dust.
Then he ran. Again.
"That counts as combat," he told himself. "Strategic combat. Avoidance is a tactic."
When night fell, the island didn't sleep. It howled.
Kain found a hollowed-out tree high above the ground and climbed inside. It wasn't safe. Nothing was. But it gave him a place to sit, breathe, and pretend he wasn't constantly being stalked by a man who once punched a mountain for fun.
He slumped against the inner bark, wincing at the bruises across his ribs. His uniform was torn. His boots were muddy. His whole body ached.
The Shonen System chimed softly.
[Daily Report – Day One Complete]
-You survived. Barely.
-Garp's training efficiency: 73% Brutality.
-Mental stability: Barely holding.
-BSP earned: 1,500
-Hidden Trait Progress: [Tactical Evasion Lv. 1] – Now slightly better at not dying.
Kain closed the interface and stared at the canopy above.
"This was supposed to be a desk job," he whispered. "Paperwork. Coffee. A light nap between forms."
He closed his eyes, listening to the distant sounds of Garp laughing somewhere out in the dark.
The second day didn't wait for him to wake up.
Kain jolted as the tree shook violently. He tumbled out, hitting every branch on the way down.
He landed with a groan, rolled to his feet, and saw Garp standing nearby, fists on his hips.
"Good morning, sunshine!" the Vice Admiral said brightly.
"No," Kain replied.
"Yes."
"No."
Garp lunged. Kain blinked out of the way and dropped a Cynical Barrier mid-roll, the shield catching Garp's punch for half a second before shattering like glass.
The shockwave still sent Kain tumbling into the brush.
He groaned from the ground. "I'm going to write a very strongly worded letter to fate…"
The next several hours were a mix of:
Fleeing from giant birds with metal-like feathers,
Using vines to swing across ravines,
Luring monsters toward Garp so they'd slow him down (they didn't),
And scarfing down berries the System flagged as "90% non-toxic."
Kain didn't fight smart. He survived smart. He let the island's chaos carry some of the weight.
One particularly large beast—a quadruped with lava-glowing horns—cornered Kain near a cliff.
Kain sighed, pulled up the system, and triggered his Nap Dash at the very last second. He blinked out of sight, reappearing mid-air—then used the beast's missed charge as a cue.
The monster slipped.
It tumbled off the cliff with a bellow.
Kain landed on his stomach, coughing dirt, but alive.
[Style Bonus: Indirect Monster Elimination +750 BSP]
"Why do I feel like this island is making me try?" Kain grumbled.
By the time night fell on Day Three, Kain had built a crude shelter out of branches, bark, and spit. He lay on his back, staring up at the stars through a patchy roof, his body sore in places he didn't know existed.
He felt slower. He felt sharper.
He felt… like something inside him had started to wake up.
Not ambition.
Not pride.
Something smaller.
Stubbornness, maybe.
A refusal to just roll over and lose.