The Art Style of Dawn is Wrong

The taste of rust-like blood filled his mouth, and the sharp pain in his upper and lower gums drove Cabron nearly mad.

Stimulated by the intense agony, Cabron was on the verge of losing his mind.

"Brat!! You're dead! I'll kill you!!!"

Before Cabron could finish his threat, his longsword still mid-swing, a tremendous force seized the hand gripping his weapon. In an instant, the arm wreathed in crimson light disarmed him cleanly.

Then Cabron felt the world flip upside down, as waves of excruciating pain crashed over him.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Dawn, surrounded by a radiant halo, grabbed Cabron like a ragdoll several times his own size and slammed him repeatedly against the deck.

After dozens of brutal smashes, the deck—already battered by cannon fire—grew even more shattered under Cabron's body.

Bonaparte's mind had turned to mush from the pounding; his body and consciousness were blank.

Dawn took a deep breath, gathered power into his right fist, and with the boost of the Red Ring, smashed it viciously into his opponent's head!

—Crack!

With a crisp, clean sound of bone breaking, the pirate captain was killed outright by Dawn's decisive blow.

As Cabron fell dead, a faint serpentine shadow briefly flickered across the halo surrounding Dawn, then vanished.

"This time it's physique. Not bad." Dawn quietly sensed the trace of energy fed back by the Ouroboros. Though it was minuscule, almost imperceptible, he could clearly tell what ability this sliver had enhanced.

Those too weak could no longer grant him any feedback. Only the strong, or those with talent in some area, could provide a return.

But the random nature of the attributes was interesting. Through multiple experiments on the Boin Archipelago, Dawn had noticed that physique and spirit were particularly rare.

Every time he gained a sliver of physique, it felt as though his innate talent had improved. After training, he could increase his physical fitness even more, as if some hidden energy stirred within his body.

Though he couldn't control it yet, Dawn vaguely suspected this latent power might be Armament Haki.

After all, Armament Haki was tied solely to physical conditioning.

Dawn's training in Observation Haki had been the most effective, but he had only grasped the concept of Armament Haki so far.

As for the increase in spirit, it sharpened his five senses, as if something was about to break out of an eggshell. Dawn even wondered if spirit attributes boosted Observation Haki or even Conqueror's Haki.

Both of those relied on mental strength.

But these two attributes appeared far less frequently than strength and speed—purely random.

Still, Dawn didn't mind. Being able to increase strength and speed was already something others dreamed of, and physique was passively enhanced alongside them.

For now, Dawn's goal was to keep growing stronger. The more powerful he became, the easier it would be to master Haki.

Meanwhile, as Dawn stood silently beside Cabron's corpse, deep in thought, the other pirates witnessed Cabron's death. They couldn't believe that the brat they'd been planning to take hostage a moment ago had turned into a grim reaper in the next.

The death of their captain left the remaining pirates momentarily stunned.

Hina and the others seized the opening, exploiting their opponents' distraction to take the initiative.

Amid the smell of burnt wood and blood, Dawn felt no discomfort looking at the enemy he had beaten to death at his feet.

He had grown accustomed to the laws of this world and the brutality of the battlefield. In a life-or-death struggle, you gave it your all.

As for the whole "vomiting" phase—well, having seen plenty of surgeries in his past life, he'd already gone through the "vomit until you get used to it" stage.

Watching his companions fight, Dawn stood still without stepping in to help, only keeping an eye on the surroundings to ensure no one was in danger.

"Hey, Dawn, why do you fight so violently? You don't seem like the berserk type at all."

Hina, having finished off her opponent, looked at the mangled captain lying at Dawn's feet and couldn't help but comment.

"Yeah, yeah! Dawn's way too manly! His vibe is so elegant, but once he fights, he's like a different person. I'm a Zoan, and even I'm not that savage!"

The third to finish was Little Tigress Sola. Hearing Hina's remark, she hopped over to join them.

Ever since Dawn saved her life, Sola had become his little shadow. Now she chimed in agreement with Hina.

Your support ability is crying, you bastard! A guy like you should just stand quietly in the back, be a handsome pretty boy, and cheer us on! But no, you go charging in! Who's the Zoan here, huh?! Sola grumbled inwardly.

"I just used the easiest method to take down my opponent." Dawn smiled gently, his refined demeanor carrying a scholarly air—nothing like the violent aura he'd exuded during the fight.

In the earlier battle, after landing a punch to the jaw, he'd grabbed the opponent's attacking arm, then overwhelmed him with the Red Ring's power boost.

Seeing that his enemy was weaker in strength, Dawn decisively used "overwhelming force to defeat a hundred techniques" and took him out instantly.

This "no hesitation, just charge" fighting style was completely different from Dawn's usual image. But one thing remained constant: beneath the berserk combat, Dawn always kept a calm mind.

Still, there was no denying that during battle, the fighting instinct within him burned like fire. He enjoyed the thrill and passion of combat.

Of course, if Hina and Sola knew what Dawn was thinking, they'd definitely retort:

"Aren't you just a battle maniac? You think dressing it up in fancy words hides your true nature?"

But "artsy youth" Abraham Dawn didn't consider himself a battle maniac. He just liked fighting—and eating, of course.

Honestly, most people who live alone and love food tend to be decent cooks. Besides, these days, young folks are practically born with a foodie streak.

Back on Stomach Baron Island, with all those delicious dishes tempting him constantly, heaven knows how much willpower Dawn had to muster to resist eating them.

To keep from becoming an extra meal for Stomach Baron, Dawn had no choice but to set a training schedule.

For example, he'd decide what he was allowed to eat after a certain amount of exercise—only to end up pushing himself like a dog just to earn that meal, then doubling his training load to earn the next one.

He also often cooked, and most of the food Dawn made was Chinese cuisine. Back at the Marine Training Camp, his buddies would frequently drop by to mooch a taste of these novel dishes, and when it came to group feasts, Dawn was always the head chef.

Otherwise, do you really think Dawn could've attracted so many future female Marines with just his face?

Well... actually, it probably was all thanks to his face... it's just that showing off his excellent cooking skills drew in even more... ahem.

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