4. The Monster Awakens

[You are overwhelmed with conviction.]

[Your Potential has begun to evolve.]

[Your Potential has reached its maximum limit.]

[Congratulations!]

[You have Awakened.]

[As a bonus for achieving Awakened rank SSS Potential, three new skills have been acquired.]

Gary froze in place as a shiver coursed down his spine. He turned, his eyes narrowing in disbelief as Noir's body moved. Slowly, painfully, but undeniably, Noir rose to his feet.

Blood continued to drip from every inch of his battered frame, his left arm hanging limp, his eye swollen shut and blinded. Yet the air around him had changed. It was no longer that of a desperate fighter clinging to survival—it was suffocating, primal, a force of raw power.

Gary clenched his fists. "What the hell is this?" he growled, his voice tinged with unease. "You should've died ten times over."

Noir didn't respond. His head hung low, and his shoulders trembled, though not from exhaustion. When he finally looked up, Gary's breath hitched. Noir's eyes, A faint green hue began to spread across his irises, giving them an otherworldly glow.

The Reverse Eyes or Ultra Instinct, a trait unique to the Yamazaki bloodline, was both a blessing and a curse. While some Yamazaki trained rigorously to unlock this power, others like Noir were born with it permanently active—a condition that came with devastating consequences.

Unlike those who awakened their Reverse Eyes through discipline, Noir's condition suppressed his body's full strength, restraining the violent instincts inherent to the Yamazaki bloodline. It acted as a limiter, taming the primal urges that would otherwise consume him.

However, if a Yamazaki lost control of the Reverse Eyes—whether by choice or circumstance—the results were catastrophic. The limiter shattered, and their true nature emerged: a berserker who fought without regard for their body, pain, or logic. They became an unrelenting beast, driven only by a singular instinct—to kill.

Gary's instincts screamed at him to run, but he was no coward. "I don't know what kind of trick this is," he snarled, tightening his grip on his gauntlets. "But I'll crush you all the same!"

With a roar, Gary charged, his spiked gauntlet aimed for Noir's chest.

Noir didn't move. Not until the last second.

In an instant, his hand lashed out, catching Gary's wrist mid-swing. Gary's eyes widened as he felt the raw, bone-crushing strength in Noir's grip. Before he could react, Noir twisted his arm and drove his knee into Gary's ribs.

The impact reverberated through Gary's entire body, forcing him to stagger back. But Noir didn't stop. He closed the distance in a blur, his movements more animalistic than human. His fists came down like hammers, relentless and precise.

Gary raised his gauntlets to block, but the sheer force of Noir's strikes pushed him back, his boots dragging through the sand. "What the hell is this strength?!" Gary roared, struggling to counter.

Noir didn't answer. He couldn't—he wasn't conscious enough to form words. His body moved on pure instinct, every strike calculated for maximum damage.

Gary found an opening and swung his gauntlet upward, the spikes raking across Noir's side. Blood sprayed, but Noir didn't even flinch.

"You're not human," Gary muttered, his voice laced with disbelief.

The fight devolved into a savage exchange. Noir's attacks were wild and unrelenting, his speed increasing with every passing second. Gary, despite his overwhelming strength and technique, found himself struggling to keep up.

"You're going to destroy yourself at this rate!" Gary shouted, landing a solid punch to Noir's ribs that sent him skidding across the sand.

Noir didn't stay down for long. He surged forward, ignoring the blood dripping from his wounds, and tackled Gary with enough force to send them both tumbling. Noir straddled Gary, his fists hammering down like a storm.

Gary roared, using his immense strength to throw Noir off. He scrambled to his feet, panting, his gauntlets now dented from the sheer force of Noir's attacks.

"This is insane…" Gary muttered, wiping the blood from his mouth.

Noir didn't care. He lunged again, his movements almost feral. He swung his broken left arm like it was perfectly intact, the bones audibly cracking with each strike. Yet the pain didn't slow him down—it only seemed to fuel his frenzy.

Gary countered with a devastating uppercut, his gauntlet connecting with Noir's jaw. The blow should've knocked him out cold, but Noir barely staggered. Instead, he grinned—a blood-streaked, horrifying expression that made even Gary hesitate.

"You're a monster," Gary hissed.

Noir no responded and driving his fist into Gary's stomach.

The beach was torn apart, the once-pristine sand now soaked with blood and littered with debris. Gary's movements were slowing, his strength waning under Noir's relentless assault.

"This is impossible…" Gary muttered, his voice weak. He was cornered, his back against the remnants of the shattered boulder.

Noir loomed over him, his chest heaving, his glowing eyes devoid of mercy. With a final, monstrous roar, Noir grabbed Gary by the throat and slammed him into the rock.

Gary struggled, his gauntlets weakly clawing at Noir's arm. "You… damn…" he choked out, his vision fading.

Noir didn't stop. He drove his knee into Gary's chest, then followed with a flurry of punches. Each strike landed with enough force to crack the stone behind them. Blood sprayed with every blow, painting the sand in crimson streaks.

By the time Noir's fists finally stopped, Gary's body was limp, his lifeless eyes staring into the void.

Noir staggered back, his bloodstained fists trembling. The glow in his eyes flickered, then faded entirely. then his eyes which were previously in Reverse Eyes mode, now return to normal. His body swayed, and for a moment, it seemed like he would collapse.

But before he fell, Noir's gaze turned toward the forest where Ihwa and the others were hiding. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"They're safe…" he murmured.

And with that, Noir's body gave out. He collapsed backward onto the sand, unconscious but alive.

****************

'Ugh, it feels like I've just walked through the gates of death,' Noir thought as he slowly opened his eyes, now glowing faintly with the Reverse Eyes. He glanced around, taking in the sight of the trees and sky above, confirming he was still on this desolate island. The fact that he was alive meant that the Black Market's lackeys had either fled or decided to relocate their base of operations. Either way, Noir couldn't care less.

"Well, at least I'm free now," he muttered, letting out a long sigh. He scanned his surroundings but saw no trace of the four women who had been about to be sold. Noir assumed they had already escaped and dismissed the thought. Sure, he had cared enough to help them out of their hellish situation, but beyond that, they weren't his concern. Now that they were free, his job was done.

The only reason he had bothered to train Ihwa in the first place was because they had shared a cell, and her broken, doll-like state had been an inconvenience. If she had remained a shattered shell of a person, it would have been a problem for him in the long run. So, he'd taught her the basics of being human again—how to talk, move, eat, and even fight—not out of compassion, but out of necessity. What she did with her life now was her own business. Noir wasn't a babysitter.

As he sat down, his body screamed in protest, every movement tugging against the bandages that covered him from head to toe like a poorly wrapped mummy. His injuries were still severe, but he was alive—a fact he found mildly surprising given the battle's ferocity. His last clear memory was of fighting Gary, and then… darkness. He couldn't recall the details of how the fight had ended, only that Gary had been dead by the time Noir collapsed.

'So this is what it feels like to lose control of the Reverse Eyes,' he thought, recalling the moment he'd relinquished control over his limiter in a last-ditch effort to survive. The results had been devastating, and Noir could only imagine the carnage he'd wrought in that state.

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud growling of his stomach.

"For now, I need to eat," Noir muttered, clutching his abdomen. He stood up slowly, only for the cloth tied around his waist to slip to the ground.

Looking down, Noir noticed the state of his body—bandaged legs covered in bloodstains—and one other… noticeable feature. His lower half, exposed for the first time in proper light, revealed a certain part of his anatomy that was, well, disproportionately large.

'So this is what I've been carrying around, huh?' Noir thought dryly, glancing at himself with mild disinterest. Back in the dark prison, he hadn't paid much attention during bathroom breaks, but now it was impossible to ignore.

He quickly picked up the cloth and tied it securely around his waist. "Guess my clothes didn't survive the fight," he muttered. Preparing to head into the forest in search of food, Noir froze when he heard an unusual sound—a soft dragging noise, faint but distinct.

Turning his head, he scanned the area but saw nothing. Then, he felt it—a hand weakly grasping his leg from behind.

'Hmm?' Noir looked down and found her.

A woman was crawling on the ground like a wounded animal, her long blonde hair dirty and matted, her wide brown eyes hollow and unseeing. Her emaciated, naked body was marred by a slave brand burned into her back.

She pointed weakly in a direction where the faint sound of waves could be heard.

"Is she over there?" Noir asked, thinking of Ihwa as he noticed the familiar branding on the woman's back. The woman gave a small nod before beginning to crawl toward the direction she had pointed, moving like a broken compass trying to show the way.

Noir sighed heavily. "This is going to take forever."

Without hesitation, he reached down, grabbed her frail body, and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of rice. The sudden movement made the woman flinch in surprise, but she offered no resistance.

"This'll be faster," Noir said plainly, walking steadily despite the lingering pain in his body.

As he carried her, Noir glanced at her status with a mixture of curiosity and detachment.

[Name: Tsukumo Yuki]

[Age: 28]

[Title: -]

[Race: Human]

[Devil Fruit: -]

[Potential: S-]

[Strength: F]

[Endurance: E]

[Durability: F]

[Speed: F]

[intelligent: F]

[Luck: S-]

'Hmm, her potential is S,' Noir thought, beads of sweat forming on his brow. The revelation surprised him. Finding someone with S-rank potential living as a slave was a rarity. It piqued his curiosity about the other two women—were their potentials just as extraordinary?

After a while, Noir spotted three figures near the wrecked pirate ship. Two of them were crawling just like Yuki, while the third moved in and out of the ship, dragging crates, barrels, and supplies. Even from a distance, Noir could tell it was Ihwa.

The three women paused as Noir approached, their gazes locked onto him. While Ihwa's expression was neutral, the two others, Mizuki and Fubuki, stared at him with a mixture of confusion and fear, still crawling on all fours like beaten animals. Noir's sharp eyes scanned them, noting their fragile frames and timid postures.

Dropping the woman he'd carried like a sack of grain onto the ground nearby, he barely spared her a second glance. Her frail body hit the ground softly, and she winced slightly but remained silent, her hollow eyes staring into nothingness. She didn't expect much from the man who had just saved her.

Noir rubbed his temple, shaking his head.

"At least you pointed me in the right direction," he muttered, glancing at her. "Good job, I guess."

Noir slumped onto a wooden crate with a weary sigh, his body still screaming in protest from the recent battle. The harsh sun beat down on his bandaged frame, bloodstains seeping through the makeshift wrappings. His crimson eyes briefly flickered, adjusting to the stillness after the chaos.

Without waiting for a reply, he leaned back against the crate, his arm resting over his knee as he let his head tilt back. His gaze moved toward Ihwa, who had been silently lingering near him since they arrived. She was sitting on the ground beside him, close enough that he could feel her presence without even looking.

Despite her recovery—her body now healthier and her expression less hollow—there was something about Ihwa that hadn't changed. She was always near him, like a shadow or a magnet, and no matter how many times Noir teased or dismissed her, she always returned.

"Ihwa," he called out casually, without turning his head.

She responded with a faint hum, her crimson eyes glancing up at him.

"You're like a mosquito, you know that?" Noir said, smirking. "Always buzzing around, sticking to me no matter what I do."

Ihwa tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. Then, without a word, she leaned closer, resting her head against his thigh. The movement was so fluid, so casual, that it caught Noir off guard for a split second.

"Seriously?" he muttered, his smirk faltering.

Ihwa didn't reply. Instead, she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh, her expression calm as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Noir rolled his eyes but didn't push her away. Instead, he reached down and lightly ruffled her silver hair, his fingers brushing through the strands.

"You're hopeless," he murmured, though there was no malice in his voice.

Ihwa hummed again, this time with a trace of contentment, as if his teasing was just background noise to her.

The two sat in silence for a moment before Noir broke it with a wry chuckle. "Hey, Ihwa," he started, glancing down at her.

She opened one eye, giving him a questioning look.

"Be honest with me," he said, a mischievous glint in his crimson eyes. "While I was knocked out, you didn't try anything funny with my 'sacred weapon,' did you?"

Ihwa blinked at him, confused at first. Then, as the implication of his words sank in, her face turned a deep shade of red. She quickly turned her head to the side, pretending to whistle, mimicking the exact tune Noir often used to pass the time in prison.

Noir stared at her, his smirk widening into a grin. "Oh, come on. That reaction's not doing you any favors. What are you hiding?"

Ihwa's whistling grew louder, and her cheeks puffed slightly as if trying to drown out his words.

Noir laughed, the sound uncharacteristically light and boyish. "You're seriously just copying me, aren't you? You're even worse than I thought."

Ihwa shot him a half-hearted glare, though the corner of her lips twitched upward. "I'm not worse," she mumbled, her voice soft.

"Sure, sure," Noir said, waving her off. He rested his head back again, his laughter fading into a small, satisfied smile. His hand unconsciously returned to her hair, stroking it gently.

The peaceful moment didn't last long.

Yuki, who had been lying silently nearby, shifted slightly, drawing Noir's attention. She was still trembling, her frail body weak and malnourished, but her hollow gaze was now fixed on Noir and Ihwa.

"What?" Noir asked, his tone flat.

Yuki quickly averted her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't answer, but her movements betrayed her unease.

Noir sighed, his fingers pausing in Ihwa's hair. "Relax," he said, his voice softening just a fraction. "I'm not going to bite. Unless you make it annoying, then maybe."

Yuki flinched slightly, but Ihwa, still resting against his leg, let out a small laugh.

"You're terrible with people," Ihwa said quietly, her voice carrying a rare trace of amusement.

"And yet here you are, glued to my side," Noir shot back, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not glued," she retorted, her tone surprisingly playful.

Noir chuckled again, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, mosquito."

Noir continued stroking Ihwa's hair absentmindedly, his eyes half-lidded as he observed Yuki. She had been staring at him, her hollow brown eyes flicking nervously between his hand and Ihwa's relaxed expression. Noir raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting to see if she would break the silence.

Ihwa, however, noticed Yuki's lingering gaze and tilted her head slightly. "Yuki," she called softly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth that was uncharacteristic but genuine. "Come here."

Yuki flinched as though the words were a physical blow. Her trembling hand reached forward hesitantly, and she began crawling toward Noir. Each movement was painstakingly slow, her frail body shaking as if the effort might break her. When she finally stopped beside Noir's leg, her gaze remained fixed on the ground.

Ihwa gave her a gentle smile, lifting her head slightly from Noir's thigh to address her. "Put your head here," she instructed, patting Noir's other leg. "It's really comfortable."

Noir froze, his hand pausing mid-stroke. "Excuse me?" he said, narrowing his eyes at Ihwa. "What am I, a piece of furniture?"

Ignoring him, Ihwa patted his thigh again, her smile not fading. "Trust me, Yuki. It helps."

Yuki hesitated, her hands gripping the fabric of her tattered clothing as she considered Ihwa's suggestion. Slowly, she leaned forward, resting her head lightly on Noir's other thigh. Her frail body was tense, as though she expected him to shove her away at any moment.

Noir sighed deeply, muttering under his breath. "This is ridiculous." Yet, he didn't push her off. Instead, his hand resumed stroking Ihwa's hair, and after a moment, he let his other hand rest gently on Yuki's head. The motion was awkward at first, but he softened as he felt her body relax slightly.

"See?" Ihwa said, her voice soft. "It's not so bad, right?"

Yuki didn't reply, but the faintest hint of tension left her frame. Noir glanced down at her, noting the deep exhaustion etched into her features.

"You're lucky I'm too tired to care," Noir muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

His gaze shifted toward the other two women nearby. Both of them were still in a crawling position, their hollow eyes fixed on him. Their expressions mirrored Yuki's initial hesitance—wary, yet unable to look away.

Noir clicked his tongue in mild irritation. "Great. Now I have an audience."

He activated his Observe skill, blue panels flickering into view as he scanned the two women.

[Name: Zen'in Maki]

[Age: 18]

[Title: -]

[Race: Human]

[Devil Fruit: -]

[Potential: A+]

[Strength: F]

[Endurance: E]

[Durability: F]

[Speed: F]

[Intelligence: F]

[Luck: S-]

She has long dark green hair that extends well down her back and small golden eyes.

[Name: Fubuki]

[Age: 21]

[Title: -]

[Race: Human]

[Devil Fruit: -]

[Potential: A-]

[Strength: F]

[Endurance: E]

[Durability: F]

[Speed: F]

[Intelligence: F]

[Luck: S-]

She has long dark green hair that extends well down her back, and her eyes are light green.

"Tch." Noir frowned as he closed the panels. "At least their potential is decent. But they're weaker than I thought."

Ihwa, still resting against him, glanced up. "What are you going to do with them?" she asked quietly.

Noir sighed, his hand briefly pausing on Yuki's head before resuming. "What do you think I'm going to do? Train them. If they stay like this, they're liabilities. I can't afford to drag around dead weight."

The two women flinched at his blunt words, their frail frames trembling slightly. But Noir's gaze was steady, unflinching as he addressed them.

"Listen up," he said, his tone sharp but not cruel. "I'm not here to babysit you. If you want to survive, you'll have to put in the effort. I'm not going to carry you through this."

Zen'in Maki's golden eyes flickered briefly with something resembling defiance, while Fubuki looked away, her hands clutching at the ground.

"Noir," Ihwa said softly, her voice drawing his attention. "Be kind."

Noir snorted, shaking his head. "Kindness doesn't keep you alive, Ihwa. You know that better than anyone."

Ihwa didn't respond, but her gaze lingered on him, unyielding. Noir sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine," he muttered. "I'll ease up a little. But only a little."

He turned his attention back to the two women. "Starting tomorrow, we're going to work on building you up. No fighting yet—you're not ready for that. First, we fix those pathetic bodies of yours."

Maki and Fubuki exchanged hesitant glances but nodded slowly. Noir's gaze softened slightly as he saw a spark of determination in Maki's eyes.

"Good," he said, leaning back against the crate. "That's a start."

Noir leaned back against the crate, letting out a tired sigh as he closed his eyes for a moment. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky with streaks of orange and gold, and for the first time in what felt like ages, a sense of calm settled over the group.

But the tranquility was short-lived.

Grrrrr…

A loud growling noise echoed across the beach, breaking the silence. Noir's eyes opened slowly, and his gaze shifted toward Yuki, who was sitting beside him with her head lowered. Her face turned a faint shade of red as her stomach growled again, louder this time.

Before Noir could say anything, another growl joined in. This one came from Ihwa, who immediately glanced away, her cheeks puffed in mild embarrassment.

Grrr… grrrr… grrrrr!

The chorus of growling stomachs continued, spreading across the group like an impromptu symphony. Even Noir's stomach betrayed him with a low, rumbling growl that seemed to mock his composure.

"Great," Noir muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Now we're all part of the starving orchestra."

Ihwa let out a quiet huff, clearly displeased, especially when Noir stood up abruptly, causing her makeshift pillow—his thigh—to vanish. She crossed her arms and glared up at him, her expression resembling that of a child denied their favorite toy.

Yuki, meanwhile, glanced at Noir briefly, her face unreadable, though there was a flicker of disappointment in her hollow eyes.

Noticing their reactions, Noir chuckled softly and reached down to ruffle their hair. "Relax," he said, his voice carrying a rare softness. "You can have your precious pillow back later—when we're done eating."

He glanced toward Maki and Fubuki, who had been watching the scene unfold from a short distance away. "That goes for you two as well," he added. "If you want a spot, you'll have to earn it."

The two women exchanged uncertain glances before nodding, their expressions still tinged with hesitation.

With that, Noir turned and began walking toward the wooden crates Ihwa had dragged earlier. He wrinkled his nose, trying to filter out the overpowering scent of saltwater as he focused on finding something edible. His heightened senses were a blessing and a curse in moments like these, but eventually, his sharp nose caught a faint whiff of meat.

"There you are," Noir muttered as he opened a crate and pulled out several large chunks of preserved meat. The pieces were heavy and thick, but that didn't stop him from hoisting them up with ease.

Turning back to the group, he held up the meat. "I'll handle the cooking," he said. "You three—" he pointed to Ihwa, Maki, and Fubuki "—grab some wood and leaves for the fire."

The three women hesitated for a moment before moving to follow his instructions. Ihwa, despite her usual clinginess, seemed eager to help. Maki and Fubuki, on the other hand, moved more cautiously, their weakened bodies making the task harder than it should have been.

Noir watched them briefly before setting to work himself. He found a spot on the beach sheltered from the wind and began arranging the wood and leaves into a makeshift fire pit. With a few swift strikes of two stones, sparks ignited the kindling, and flames flickered to life.

"Not bad for a guy without magic," Noir muttered to himself, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

He skewered the meat onto long sticks, carefully placing three large pieces on each. The meat sizzled as he held the skewers over the fire, the aroma wafting into the air and making the growls of hunger around him even louder.

Once the meat was cooked to a golden-brown perfection, Noir began handing out the skewers. He set one aside for himself before handing another to Ihwa, who immediately began devouring it with an almost comical enthusiasm.

"You could slow down, you know," Noir said, raising an eyebrow as he watched her tear into the meat like a starving wolf.

Ihwa ignored him, her cheeks puffed with food as she gave him a look that was half-defiant, half-satisfied.

Noir shook his head and turned his attention to Yuki. She had taken the skewer he offered but hesitated, staring at it as though unsure what to do.

"It's food," Noir said flatly. "You eat it. Simple enough, right?"

Yuki glanced at him, then at the meat, before taking a cautious bite. Her eyes widened slightly at the taste, and she quickly took another bite, eating with a quiet urgency that betrayed her hunger.

Satisfied, Noir looked toward Maki and Fubuki, who were still sitting awkwardly nearby. "You two aren't going to eat?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The two women exchanged glances before hesitantly approaching. Noir handed them each a skewer, and though their hands trembled as they took the food, they began eating slowly, their movements stiff and hesitant.

As the group ate, a strange sense of camaraderie began to form. The tension and fear that had lingered earlier seemed to melt away, replaced by the simple pleasure of a shared meal.

By the time they finished, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and the sky was painted in deep shades of purple and blue.

"Alright," Noir said, standing and stretching. "Let's head back to the spot where I woke up. It's as good a place as any to rest."

The group followed him, their movements slower now that their stomachs were full. When they reached the clearing, Noir sat down again, leaning against a fallen log. Ihwa immediately claimed her spot beside him, curling up with her head resting on his shoulder.

Yuki hesitated for a moment before settling on his other side, her head tentatively leaning against his arm.

Maki and Fubuki glanced at each other before quietly approaching. Without a word, they sat down near Noir's legs, their heads eventually resting on his thighs.

Noir sighed, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed at the stars above. Despite the odd arrangement, he found himself strangely at ease.

"Guess I'm a human pillow now," he muttered, his voice tinged with both amusement and resignation.

Ihwa let out a soft hum of contentment, her arms wrapping loosely around his waist as she nestled closer. Yuki remained silent, her breathing slow and steady as she drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Maki and Fubuki, though still hesitant, seemed to relax as they lay there, their frail bodies finally at rest.

As the gentle rhythm of their breathing filled the air, Noir allowed himself to close his eyes, the weight of exhaustion pulling him into sleep.