"It's starting, it's starting!!!"
"How long do you guys think Ozz will last this time?"
"Last time he made it a minute. This time… maybe a minute and a half?"
"I'm betting two minutes."
"Wanna place your bets, minna-san?"
"...Say that again, and I will slap you, Betam!"
Maybe it was boredom, or maybe it was just the norm aboard the Roger Pirates' ship, but a bunch of rough-and-tumble men were now excitedly gathering to spectate what promised to be a short—but glorious—showdown.
Ozz stood at the center of the commotion, dressed in a shrunken black military uniform of questionable origin, a black spear slung over his back. He stood at the ready, eyes locked on the man before him.
Long black hair danced in the sea breeze, his youthful face set with a determined expression. Though still tender in age, there was no denying his striking handsomeness.
That face—held a beauty reminiscent of the Uchiha clan.
Standing across from him was a blonde-haired middle-aged man. Despite his casual stance, just his presence alone bore down on Ozz like a mountain.
"No wonder he's called the Dark King, Rayleigh. Even just standing there he's terrifying."
Ozz understood all too well—no one becomes a powerhouse in the world of One Piece through practice alone. Real strength was forged in combat. Relentless, brutal combat.
And Ozz?
His strategy was simple: headfirst into the storm!
You afraid of pain? Then don't be a pirate!
When Rayleigh made no move, Ozz decided he wouldn't wait around either. In a flash—under the astonished gazes of Buggy and Shanks—he vanished from sight.
"Wha—?! He disappeared?!"
"When did Ozz eat a Devil Fruit?!"
They knew all about Ozz and Uncle Betam's little scam. So they were also aware that the "treasured wager" that Captain Roger had lost was actually… a Devil Fruit.
And Ozz? Instead of asking for a cut of the cash, he'd chosen to take the Devil Fruit. According to Rayleigh, it was called...
"The Teleportation Fruit?"
"Wrong!"
At some point, Captain Roger had appeared behind the two kids, resting a massive hand on each of their heads. Grinning, he said:
"You've seen this before, haven't you? Ozz is using the Rokushiki—Navy Six Styles."
"EH?!"
Shanks and Buggy's jaws dropped.
Of course they'd heard of the Six Styles. It was an advanced form of physical combat—a kind of pre-Haki training. But the point was—
That was a Marine officer's skill set!
And Ozz… had learned it at age nine?!
Sure enough, when they looked back at the "battlefield," Ozz had already reappeared behind Rayleigh, aiming a fierce kick right at the man's kidney.
Sorry Miss Shakky, this one's for survival!
But just as the kick was about to land—Ozz suddenly retracted his leg and darted away.
Rayleigh turned slowly, amusement in his eyes as he looked at the tense-faced boy. A crooked grin crept onto his lips.
"Why'd you pull back?"
Ozz scowled at the old man's gleeful face and muttered, "Just had a feeling that if I went through with it, something really bad would happen."
In truth—
At that very moment, he'd seen something. A flicker.
An image of his leg snapping like a twig.
Trusting his instincts, Ozz had pulled out, trying to recapture that fleeting sense.
"Too much reliance on Observation Haki can actually slow your growth, kid," Rayleigh chuckled—then vanished.
Nani?!
Every alarm in Ozz' brain went off.
Observation Haki: Incoming threat detected!
Brain: React now!
Body: 10/10 commentary, why don't you react?
That was Ozz' fatal flaw—his Observation Haki was insanely strong. It gave him a sort of top-down, God's-eye view of battle…
But his body? Still a kid's. It simply couldn't keep up.
It wasn't a problem of talent—it was a matter of conditioning. Endless combat. Countless beatings. That's how monsters were made.
Only through that could one handle higher-level power.
Like Haki.
In simpler terms?
Getting punched in the face—a lot—was the fastest way to learn Armament Haki.
Sure, Ozz had a freakish natural physique. That shortened the journey. But he couldn't skip it.
So when Rayleigh's sudden attack came, Ozz knew there was no dodging it.
Might as well use the opportunity. Gritting his teeth, he made a split-second decision:
He activated the beginner's version of Armament Haki he'd just picked up—
"Tekkai! (Iron Body)!!"
Let's see if I can tank one measly kick—
"Ozz, you're awake!"
"…Oh, hell…"
Ozz opened his eyes slowly and, upon seeing the two boys at his bedside, realized what had happened in about two and a half seconds.
Rayleigh had rocked him to sleep again—with his foot.
Should he blame the old man's freakish leg strength, or accept that "put-to-sleep-by-kick" was just a terrible passive skill?
Ozz silently swore to himself:
If I ever use Tekkai again, I'm a dog.
"Hey! Ozz, are you really okay?"
Seeing him get up like it was nothing, both Buggy and Shanks looked seriously worried.
After all, they had seen what happened—when Rayleigh kicked Ozz and the kid passed out cold, even Captain Roger was sweating and asking if maybe Rayleigh had overdone it.
Ozz might be a monster, but taking a full-force kick from the Dark King laced with pitch-black Armament Haki… he should've been out for days.
They honestly couldn't believe Ozz had survived, let alone gotten up.
And as Ozz' brothers-in-arms, they were deeply concerned.
This guy… had gone way too hard.
But Ozz, the man at the center of the storm? He didn't seem to care. He cracked his neck and stretched his arms like nothing had happened.
"Relax, I'm fine. How long was I out? Don't tell me a whole day?"
He spoke as if it were no big deal—until his hand touched his chest.
He winced.
Damn, that hurt!
Shanks and Buggy thought he was in serious pain and immediately tried to steady him.
"Don't push yourself, Ozz!"
"Yeah, if you're hurt then rest, idiot!"
Ozz gritted his teeth, undid the top buttons of his shirt—and revealed a massive, black-and-blue bruise spreading across his chest. His mouth twitched involuntarily.
"Whoa! Ozz, you've awakened Armament Haki already?!"
Shanks' eyes widened, his voice full of awe and disbelief.
Buggy glanced at him, fuming. "Are you stupid? That's a bruise, dumbass!"
"Oh... HAHAHAHA! Whoops. Guess I got it wrong," Shanks laughed, scratching his head.
"GOD you piss me off sometimes!!"
Buggy hated this about Shanks—always so clueless, never catching the point. And always so unbothered by Buggy's righteous fury.
Normally, this would be the moment Ozz would laugh his head off watching them bicker. Then, when they were finally tired out, he'd drape an arm around each of their shoulders and steer the topic elsewhere.
"C'mon, don't be mad, Buggy. Let's go eat."
"Tch… fine. But I'm only going for your sake, Ozz—not because of him, got it?!"
"Sure, sure… I know."