The Road to Becoming a Monster

Momonga heard Gion's partner's words and couldn't help but chuckle.

"A monster? Perhaps he is..."

"I joined Branch 321 at the same time as Colonel Darren. I remember very clearly, back on his first day of training five years ago..."

A flicker of nostalgia shone in Momonga's typically cold, resolute eyes.

"He was very thin and weak back then. Running ten laps around the training grounds would completely exhaust him; he'd need half an hour just to catch his breath and stand back up."

"Among the new recruits in our batch, his physical stats were the weakest of them all."

"But he never gave up because of that."

"He persisted with his training every single day, pushing his physiological limits almost every moment."

"It started with dragging a single cannon barrel, then a small wooden boat... It took him three full years before Colonel Darren could barely drag this decommissioned warship a single meter."

"Compared to a natural-born 'monster' like Major General Sakazuki, Colonel Darren is a monster of an entirely different level."

Upon hearing this, Gion and Gion's partner both fell into silence.

Clang...

Darren dropped the thick iron chains and stood under the scorching sun, gasping for air. His throat and lungs felt as if they were being torn apart, wheezing like a bellows.

Every muscle in his body felt as though it were burning, radiating a searing, stinging pain.

Yet, he had long since grown accustomed to this agony.

Darren looked back at the long groove carved into the earth by the warship he had dragged, roughly estimating the distance.

One hundred and one meters...

Hm, he had finally broken his own record.

He checked his body data once more.

Physique: 58.106 (+0.03)
Strength: 53.837 (+0.06)
Speed: 57.539
Fruit: 71.345

His physique had increased by 0.03, and his strength by 0.06.

"The growth of my attributes is becoming increasingly sluggish. It seems I need to switch to a larger warship."

Darren stared at his "data panel," muttering to himself.

For his "Perception" talent, this was the best application he had been able to discover and explore.

By utilizing the feedback from his various stats, he could determine whether his current training methods were effective.

The human body possesses a powerful capacity for adaptation. The same load, external pressure, and similar training methods might yield good results at first, but as the body adapts, the effectiveness gradually wanes until it eventually plateaus.

This is the scientific explanation.

Before Darren transmigrated, he had a general understanding that professional athletes also constantly change their training plans to achieve sustained improvements in their performance.

"Progressive overload" is a fundamental principle in sports science.

It means that within the range of what the human body can accept, one must constantly increase the "load" of training to achieve improvements in athletic performance.

However, for Darren, who possessed the "Precise Perception" talent, he could use the feedback from his various stats to judge with much greater accuracy whether his current training was effective.

Therefore, even though he endured what others saw as "hellish" torture and a "monster-like" training regimen every day, he still embraced it willingly.

Because he could obtain immediate feedback.

With every extra push-up, every extra weighted squat, he could clearly see his "attributes" rising.

It was almost as if he were a character in a game.

Of course, this world was not a game; it was reality.

He knew the dangers of the pirate world better than anyone.

That was why he trained harder than anyone else.

Because only in this way could he compete on the same stage as the true "monsters" of this ocean!

With the help of his talent, he firmly believed that as long as he put in superhuman effort, one day he would be able to do what Whitebeard did—possess unparalleled strength and effortlessly intercept a high-speed warship with his bare hands.

"Alright, time to start the physical conditioning."

As his breathing gradually steadied, Darren looked up and waved at Momonga.

He could feel that his body had reached its limit for the day. Continuing to force strength training would not only be ineffective but would also cause internal injuries, muscle strains, and overdraft his body's potential.

"Colonel Darren is calling for me."

On the other side of the training grounds, Momonga said this to Gion and her partner, then immediately set off.

However, he soon paused, as if remembering something, and turned back with a smile:

"Right, what comes next is quite spectacular, so don't blink."

Gion and Gion's partner were taken aback.

Momonga did not offer any further explanation, merely smiling mysteriously.

Although having a twisted sense of humor was not in his nature, for some reason, seeing these two "pride of the heavens" from Headquarters looking so shocked and inexperienced made him feel inexplicably happy.

"Assemble!!"

Momonga shouted in a cold voice.

In less than twenty seconds, dozens of naval soldiers around the training ground had swiftly gathered in the center.

They seemed to have been prepared for a long time, splitting into two formations.

Clang!!

Accompanied by a crisp humming sound, the navy in the front row drew their sabers in unison.

Swish!!

At the same time, the navy in the rear row raised the flintlock muskets in their hands in perfect synchronization.

Every one of them held their breath, focused.

The target locked in their eyes... was none other than Darren in the center of the training ground!!

"Hey, hey, hey... this has to be a joke..."

Gion's partner seemed to realize something, his face full of astonishment, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.

Gion swallowed hard, her voice raspy:

"This kind of training method... people could actually die..."

Before they could suppress the shock in their hearts, Momonga had already issued the order in a stern tone.

"Attack!!"

As the words fell, The front-row navy, gripping their sabers, charged aggressively toward their base commander.

Sharp, cold blades... without the slightest mercy, slashed wildly at every part of Darren's body!

Head, face, neck, chest, back, arms, thighs, throat...

Every single spot was "cared for" thoroughly.

Clang, clang, clang, clang!!

Yet, it was as if they were striking steel; sparks showered from the blades, which then chipped and shattered.

After one round of "slashing," the sabers were all ruined, and the front-row navy quickly dispersed.

The rear-row navy, having been poised and ready, immediately pulled the triggers of their flintlocks.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!!

A dense curtain of bullets enveloped Darren's figure, constantly ricocheting and leaving clear craters in the ground.

Once the round of bullets was spent, the rear-row navy immediately drew the sabers at their waists and charged toward Darren.

Meanwhile, the front-row navy gathered at the rear position, beginning to reload their flintlocks.

Back and forth they went...

Swords, Gunfire, And from time to time, one could even see Momonga dragging a heavy cannon out of the nearby armory, taking advantage of the gap between the two teams' rotations to blast Darren with a shell.

Swords snapped, bullets rang out, and cannonballs exploded; billowing black smoke and fire rose on the training ground, kicking up vast clouds of dust and sand, looking from afar as if a small-scale war were being waged.

Gion's partner and Gion stood at the edge of the training ground, dumbfounded as they watched this terrifying, "self-mutilating" scene.

Stunned into silence.

No Iron Body, no dodging, no blocking...

That madman, Was relying solely on the defensive power of his own physique to withstand such ferocious attacks!

"Is... is this something a human can do?"

Gion's partner and Gion watched the man who remained standing amidst the hail of bullets, their faces pale as they muttered to themselves.

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