One Piece Syndrome #15
Author's note: I'm tired of finding new ways to ask for Power Stones, so here's my favorite One Piece quote instead...
"People's dreams will never end!"
As for me, I dream of the day when everyone donates Power Stones without me needing to wrack my brain for five minutes every day trying to think of new and creative ways to beg for power stones like some sidewalk hobo...
...
Standing at the water's edge, Blake's expression shifted from uncertainty to determination as he fixed his gaze on a cluster of boulders just ahead. With a cautious glance around to ensure his solitude, a futile gesture in this isolated spot, he let out a sigh of resignation. Focusing on the task at hand, he slid his back along the sandy shore until he reached the boulders.
"Soru..." he muttered under his breath, disappearing and reappearing in an instant right before the boulders. "Shigan..." he continued, extending his index finger to poke one of the boulders, shattering it into countless pieces. Despite his success, a flush of embarrassment crept over Blake as he realized the absurdity of calling out techniques aloud. Yet, mingled with the shame was a strange sense of exhilaration.
"C'mon, why should I feel ashamed?" he muttered to himself, frustration evident in his voice. "In a world straight out of an anime, it's practically a requirement to shout out your attacks with gusto!" he declared defiantly, directing his glare at the pile of rocks as if they were the source of his vexation.
"Geppo!" Blake's voice reverberated through the desolate landscape, his declaration echoing against the silent cliffs and dense foliage. With determined steps, he propelled himself into the air, his muscles tensing with anticipation.
"Take this, you damned inanimate objects! Rankyaku!" His shout carried across the island as his body spun, delivering a powerful strike that sliced through the largest boulder like a blade through butter.
As he hovered in mid-air with Geppo, a triumphant laughter erupted from Blake, a cathartic release of pent-up energy and frustration.
"Bwahahahaha!" His laughter echoed through the clearing, a testament to his newfound freedom. But as the echoes faded, a sense of introspection settled over him like a heavy fog. "Oh man... after three years alone on this island, I'm finally starting to lose my marbles," he admitted with a defeated sigh, his hand absently running through his tousled hair.
Another year had passed, marked by endless days of solitary training and battles with imaginary foes. With no one to share his journey, Blake found himself succumbing to peculiar habits—conversations with himself, fits of peculiar laughter in a specific way, and the inexplicable urge to declare his attacks like an anime character.
He called these peculiar urges the "One Piece Syndrome," though deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was a sign of his sanity slipping away.
"It's a good thing that I've mastered all six techniques and found the heart of the island," Blake remarked with a grin, his gaze drifting toward the dense canopy of trees. "Just a matter of dealing with the boss beast and the sea king, and then I'll finally be free of this place," he mused, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.
After another year of perseverance, Blake had finally reached the island's core, though he opted to remain on the outskirts due to injuries and a fear of facing formidable opponents. Yet, he hadn't wasted his time; he dedicated himself to mastering the Soru, Geppo, and Rankyaku techniques, each requiring months of relentless practice.
Soru came naturally through trial and error, as Blake experimented with various footwork techniques until achieving the desired result. Geppo proved more complex, requiring him to coil his muscles like a spring, channeling energy through his body to launch himself into the air with a powerful blast.
As for Rankyaku, lacking a suitable training method, Blake resorted to honing his skills with a sword, tirelessly swinging it day after day until he could unleash flying slashes with precision. Transferring the technique to his foot was a challenge, but with determination and persistence, he succeeded.
Blake couldn't help but chuckle at his own antics. "Who am I even talking to?" he muttered, giving himself a light slap on the face to shake off his momentary lapse. "Better get moving before I start having full-blown conversations with myself," he added, pushing himself into the air with a practiced Geppo, soaring effortlessly above the treetops towards the heart of the island.
From his elevated vantage point, Blake glanced down at the terrain below, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The obstacles that had once seemed insurmountable now appeared trivial from his lofty position.
The memory of the red-furred goats, the formidable four-armed gorillas, the menacing sharks, and the imposing cliffs and moats that had tested him at every turn now seemed like mere inconveniences as he surveyed the island from above.
Arriving at his long-awaited destination, Blake set foot in the solemn sanctuary of the island's guardian beast. The burial ground sprawled before him, adorned with a single towering tombstone and a multitude of weathered swords thrust into the earth.
As he stepped into the clearing, the ambiance shifted, casting a darker hue over the surroundings, and the trees encircling the area appeared more worn than elsewhere on the island.
In a moment of anticipation, the mournful howl of a wolf pierced the air, signaling the arrival of the guardian. Emerging gracefully, the giant gray wolf leaped atop the central tombstone, its piercing blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight as it gripped a sizable sword in its jaws.
Blake regarded the magnificent creature with a mixture of awe and admiration, his eyes widening at the sight.
Having spent countless days in solitude with no source of entertainment other than fighting the many beasts prowling the island, he came to enjoy battling these creatures, always looking forward to meeting stronger and stronger foes to test the results of his training.
And yet, as he looked at the great grey wolf, Blake didn't feel the usual fervor and anticipation of fighting a strong-looking opponent, but rather something new entirely.
"Come closer, you magnificent thing! Let me feel that luscious fur!" he exclaimed with a mix of excitement and affection, extending his hand toward the imposing gray wolf.
The wolf, bristling with indignation at Blake's words, emitted a ferocious growl that reverberated through the clearing. With a graceful leap, it soared into the night sky, its majestic form eclipsing the moon as it spun gracefully, unleashing a swift flying sword slash toward Blake.
Startled by the sudden attack, Blake shook off his reverie and swiftly raised his bone blade, meeting the descending strike head-on and deflecting it aside. The force of the clash sent the flying slash careening through the air, cleaving through tombstones and rusted swords before dissipating into the darkness.
Undeterred by the wolf's aggression, Blake remained determined, his gaze fixed upon the majestic creature. "Playing hard to get? Well, I'll shower you with affection whether you like it or not!" he exclaimed with a grin, readying himself for the impending confrontation.
As the wolf descended, Blake propelled himself upward with a burst of Geppo, brandishing his bone blade with resolve.
Their weapons clashed mid-air, the resounding clash echoing through the clearing and sending shockwaves rippling across the ground. Dust billowed around them, swirling amid the ancient tombstones. Despite their deadlock, the wolf pressed forward, slashing at Blake with razor-sharp claws.
Reacting swiftly, Blake evaded the attack with a nimble leap backward, utilizing Geppo to gain distance from the formidable foe.
Blake and the grey wolf both touched down on the ground simultaneously, resuming their fierce exchange. Blake unleashed three flying Rankyaku slashes with swift kicks, while the grey wolf darted toward him with lightning speed, effortlessly evading his attacks with fluid movements.
Within moments, the wolf closed the distance, appearing before Blake like a specter, its blade already arcing toward him.
Reacting swiftly, Blake met the wolf's blade with his bone blade, the clash putting them once again in a tense stalemate. Seizing the opportunity, Blake's mischievous grin widened as he extended his free hand toward the wolf's neck, gently caressing its fur.
A look of bliss washed over Blake's face at the sensation, but his unusual actions startled the grey wolf, triggering a surge of alarm. With an angry howl, the wolf swiftly withdrew, eyeing Blake warily as if he were some kind of deviant.
"Bwahahaha! That was exhilarating! Come here and let me feel that soft fur again!" Blake exclaimed, discarding his sword and lunging toward the wolf with unrestrained enthusiasm.
On that day, the mournful howls of a wolf echoed throughout Tutorial Island as it became the unwitting recipient of a lonely young man's smothering affection that had little respect for personal space.
Yet, as the day progressed, those mournful cries transformed into ones of enjoyment, signifying a budding bond forged between two unlikely companions.
...
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