12 Ultimate Move: Windmill Punch

Small Note: From now on, I will stop using the -san -kun -chan -dono or something. It reeks of Japanese.

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"This is so interesting! As expected of Toriyama-sensei. I wonder how Goku, who only had a power level of 9,000, beat Frieza who has a power level of 530,000?" a middle school teenager was taking off his soccer uniform while reading the newly released volume of Dragon Ball.

The child, inspired by a soccer manga, Captain Tsubasa, had joined the soccer club when he was in fifth grade. Although he was losing interest in it, he was intending to continue with it for now.

"Odacchi we're going ahead so, clean up the clubroom before you get home," the middle schooler teenager, Oda's senior who just finished changing up after a hard practice, spoke to Oda—who was dual-tasking by reading the Dragon Ball manga and changing—and then went away.

"Yeah, see you," confirming that his senior had left, Oda took a notebook with the title 'WANTED' with a few drawings in it.

Holding the pen, he tried to move it but no idea came up. So in the end, he threw the soccer ball again and again while holding the pen in his hand.

It was when his pen was about to move that a sound echoed out of nowhere.

[Cherry Blossom Software has located Oda Eiichiro.]

[The permission to alter the reality has been granted.]

[Executing the order to prevent the copyright strike in the upcoming future.]

[The order has been executed. We wish the candidate Heylail and the soon-to-be-born candidate a good gaming experience.]

Oda Eiichiro, having heard all this, suddenly lost his memory, as his cognition, memories, and actions from those around him were altered by the Cherry Blossom Software.

"What the heck is this drawing? It's cringe and I don't want to be treated like a loser. Rather than that, I should take this chance to practice alone now that senpai's gone!" Oda whose cognition has been altered, began taking soccer seriously as his dream of being a manga writer had changed to that of a professional soccer player.

Thanks to the cognition alter from the Cherry Blossom Software, Oda Eiichiro now takes soccer too seriously, becoming the Ego Jinpachi of Heylail's world.

In the near future, a revolution would take over the Soccer of Japan as the born of the egoist striker, Oda Eiichiro would take place.

"Haha, Oda, you're still practicing? Can't be helped; I'll go along with you!" Oda's senior who had just left before, saw Oda kicking the ball and decided to accompany him.

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April 15

"Take this!" In a serious spar with Mistella, I used my strongest move, which I had invented just days ago after eating the Feather Feather Fruit.

"Hmph!" Mistella readied herself with a firm stance, as she prepared for whatever nonsense I might unleash, based on her experience of dealing with me.

[Windmill Punch!!!] I shouted as I rotated both my arms at great speed.

It was a childish move but I was a child. However as juvenile as it sounded and looked, it became a powerful move in my hand. The wings on my back, my shoulders, and wrists flapped, launching a massive number of feathers in all direction.

After quickly discovering the quirks of Feather Feather Fruit after eating it, I realized I had a nervous system connected to every single feather, and for some reason, I could control how my feathers moved after detaching them.

Moreover, the number of feathers I had per wing reached the outrageous number of 100,000, meaning I could control 200,000 feathers in total when I had my wings out. The quantity alone could already produce a disaster. 

After playing with it a bit, I later found out I could make wings at any part of my body. However, my mind struggled to keep up with controlling (currently) 300,000 feathers as my feathers, weren't an AI, and I had to control each one individually

This flaw was somewhat mitigated by my [Windmill Punch]. I synchronized the motion of my feathers with the way my arm moved, effectively creating a small tornado in the small dojo that couldn't contain the seemingly fluffy feathers.

"Ahyahyahya! Today marks your defeat, Mistella! Try to stop this move if you can! I will end our rival today, and you will call me big brother!" I trash-talked Mistella, with no intention to anger her.

But regardless of my intention, Mistella popped a vein as she annoyingly rushed forward, effectively ignoring the feathers that hit her and dodging my windmill punches. 

Then amidst my panic that my attack was nullified, I tried covering my face. But her fist found its way deep into my stomach before my featherlight body was launched to the other side of the wall.

'Huh? Deja vu?' I thought as my body violently collided with the wall.

"Fuckkkkk!" I shouted in defeat and frustration, vomiting blood from the aftereffects of the collision.

"Language!" Toki scolded me for the profanity that unconsciously slipped out. I covered my mouth in panic.

"Kid, you made a mess in the dojo with your feathers! Who's going to clean this shit," Ban got angry after witnessing the feathers scattered all around the dojo.

"Oh..." Still dejected that I lost and got scolded by Toki, I snapped my fingers, and the feathers began returning to my side.

From then, Hereru began consoling me. "I'm sorry Heylail... if my feathers were tough and sharper, we could have won..."

'It's okay... it's because they were not sharp that I used them in the spar,' I replied to Hereru. I regained a bit of my spirit, being consoled by Hereru.

After tending to my injury, Toki approached Ban with an unhappy expression. Seeing this strange situation, I became curious as my eyes glimmered in yellow unknowingly, and started seeing a strange color.

'It's that color again... it's blue now?' I thought as Toki whispered to Ban, and he nodded in response.

As the person who had been left aside by Toki, I looked at the two, instinctively picking up the pencil, and captured the moment they had created.

"What are you doing?" Mistella approached me, but I who was too caught up in the moment, forgot to listen to her. Realizing that I was focused on something else, Mistella sat beside me as I moved my pencil.

'The woman had an impeccable expression as she conveyed her worry to the old person. Receiving the words from the lady, the old person contemplated the issue with the lady and suggested an idea.' I read out the situation unfolding not too far ahead in my eyes as I tried to understand the feeling of the two and engraved what I 'saw' inside the small white space.

"I wonder what they're talking about right now," as the adults conversed, the children also had a conversation.

"Maybe something not good," I mumbled in response. 

I didn't like seeing that kind of expression from someone I had relations with.