"WHITE WOLF MAGNUS!!!"
On the barren, remote island, Farrell's furious roar echoed through the sky.
It had been too long.
Farrell couldn't remember the last time he fought —with all his might, without scheming or manipulation.
His opponent was a legend among pirates, one of the greatest swordsmen in the world.
The crushing pressure nearly suffocated Farrell.
"Haha! That's it, brat! Don't disappoint this old man!"
Farrell stood over two meters tall—but the beast-form Magnus towered at nearly three meters.
Their fight looked like a battle between a giant and a dwarf.
Unlike Yamato's more elegant beast transformation in the future, Magnus's beastman form was wild and savage. Not only his blade, but every part of his body became a weapon.
But while it looked like Magnus had the upper hand—
Only he knew that if he couldn't finish this quickly, his stamina would eventually run dry.
Magnus's footing faltered.
Farrell seized the moment and lunged without hesitation.
And also—proof that Magnus was running out of time.
He had made a mistake—
So now Magnus chose to commit to it.
A fierce glint flashed in his eyes. After decades sailing the seas without a cheat system, surviving not just by luck—but by guts and recklessness.
He had a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit. Take a stab, eat a good meal, and he'd be good as new.
The weight of Magnus's descending blade was immense. Farrell's heart pounded faster than ever.
Against most opponents, Farrell would lunge without hesitation.
He was a Paramecia-type, user of the Break-Break Fruit.
Anything he touched could be damaged beyond repair.
If he landed just one strike—
Not even a Zoan-type like Magnus could shrug it off.
Should he bet it all?
The thought flashed by in a heartbeat.
In the end, Farrell chose to retreat.
He could injure Magnus—but then he'd be stuck in a storm of counterattacks.
Already on the back foot—would he survive that?
Sometimes, habit defines fate.
He'd always relied on using his crew to wear down enemies first.
How could a man like that dare bet his own life?
And in that very moment—
A savage grin tore across the White Wolf's face.
"The battle is over. Farrell—your resolve ends here."
Aboard the Black Pearl, a limp hand dropped to the deck.
Rocks stood, barely, his body trembling as he looked at a similarly battered Cassius.
Rocks had thought he was the strongest in his town. Not even the local police could beat him. Fighting a low-level pirate should've been a piece of cake, right?
"But in the end, I was still better! Haha!"
He had paid the price of an arm—but Cassius's weapon was gone, knocked from his hands.
An unarmed Cassius had no way to fight back now.
Cassius stood expressionless.
He'd started with the upper hand. In the White Wolf Pirates, he had never lacked strong mentors.
But with his own eyes, he had watched Rocks flail around with third-rate swordsmanship, slowly mimic his techniques, and finally trade a single arm to knock away his blade.
Was this what a genius was?
For the first time, Cassius understood the look Magnus had always given him—
He couldn't even beat a random "helmsman" Magnus picked up.
A corpse crashed from the sky, landing hard on the Black Pearl's deck.
Seeing the fallen figure—
Cassius trembled uncontrollably.
From the moment Farrell had hesitated—
The outcome was sealed.
Magnus had always been stronger than Farrell. It was only age and waning stamina that held him back.
If Farrell had dared to trade blow for blow, then with youth and endurance, maybe he could've won in the end.
After all, Zoan recovery costs stamina, and over time—
Magnus might've lost.
But Farrell… couldn't commit.
Still, though Magnus had won, Farrell's last desperate assault nearly tore him apart.
Magnus was now soaked in blood, his stamina barely ten percent remaining.
Thankfully, his old injuries were gone.
If he'd still been fighting with hidden wounds, the result might have been very different.
[After a battle that was not particularly difficult, you easily defeated Blood Skull Farrell. As a relic of the old era, the moment he lost his dreams and his drive, he was doomed to be cast aside by the times.]
[You have obtained Conqueror's Haki aptitude.]
[Your cellular vitality has increased slightly.]
Not particularly difficult...?
Magnus twitched. Whatever you say, dumb system.
But as for the Conqueror's Haki aptitude he had longed for—
With a single thought, a wave of invisible pressure exploded from him.
Rocks and Cassius both turned pale. It was like seeing some prehistoric monster—they nearly passed out on the spot.
"Hm. Just beginner level. Looks like to really master Haōshoku Haki, I'll need more real combat."
Magnus had already reached top-tier mastery in both Busoshoku Haki (Armament) and Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation). With that foundation, picking up Conqueror's was easy.
But "easy" only applied to basic use—
Essentially, a battlefield clean-up tool.
Higher-level techniques? Not even close.
Magnus's Haōshoku Haki wasn't strong enough yet. He couldn't even knock out Rocks or Cassius, two total newbies.
He wasn't in a rush. This was just the beginning.
Cassius's voice called from the side.
The young pirate was trembling, his eyes filled with pleading.
"Cassius. Lili and the others… they'll be very disappointed, won't they?"
He admitted it—during those final five years, he had already lost much of his fire. He hadn't taken much care with Cassius, leaving most of it to his old crewmates.
But that wasn't an excuse for betrayal.
Because he owed Cassius nothing.
If not for them, Cassius would've died in that ruined village years ago.
In Cassius's terrified gaze, Magnus raised his blade.
"You no longer owe us anything."
With one strike, Magnus cut the final tie to his past.
He turned toward the other figure on the ship.
Rocks lifted his head proudly, making Magnus burst into laughter.
It's a new beginning.
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