Cultivating Devil Fruits

This island was a desolate, uninhabited wasteland. Aside from the sea fish washed ashore by the waves that quickly perished, there were no signs of life. Near the center of the island, the surrounding low-lying shrubs gradually vanished, leaving the ground as bare as the scalp of a balding man.

The closer one moved toward the center, the more the island sloped downward into a depression, with the intensity of gravity increasing drastically. In Shuma's words, this was a Pot Island.

This led Buggy to speculate wildly about whether this island had been reshaped during the awakening of Fujitora's Gravity-Gravity Fruit.

Buggy and his crew had been stuck on this absurd island for a full half-year.

"Has it already been nearly six months..." Buggy stood beside a stone tablet erected on the beach. Every day, he carved a "1," and every thirty days, he carved a long horizontal line through the thirty "1"s to track the rapid passage of time. So far, he had carved five long lines, and the sixth would soon follow.

Training in Finger Pistol and Tempest Kick was far more difficult than Shave. To date, although the strength in Buggy's fingers had reached the point where he could pierce rock, it was difficult to leave a mark on Iron Body.

As for Tempest Kick, it was even worse; he could only produce a faint slash.

However, there was no helping it. The Six Powers were like the bonus questions on an exam; only those who could finish the main portion of the test were qualified to attempt these difficult problems.

Furthermore, he had missed the optimal, most perfect age for learning. That he could achieve even this much was entirely due to Buggy's day-and-night, grueling practice.

Following his lead, the two officers practiced diligently as well, never once feeling discouraged or complaining.

At this moment, they were locked in a heated spar.

Cabaji drew his blade and attacked, his Great Grade Sword landing in a flash against the cross-block of Mohji's chest.

Clang!

Mohji's body instantly attained the toughness of Iron Body. The blade struck him as if hitting metal, and the sword in Cabaji's hand remained motionless against his opponent's chest, unable to advance a single millimeter.

Mohji quickly placed one hand on the sharp edge of the blade, turning defense into offense, while his other hand swung a horizontal palm strike toward Cabaji's neck. A faint, eerie cold light, sharp as a blade, shimmered on the side of his palm, whipping up a powerful gust of air.

Store-Store Fruit, Sharpness Storage!

"Paper Art!" Sensing the surrounding air currents, Cabaji released the hilt of his Sakura Blizzard. His body adjusted rapidly, drifting weightless like thin paper, instantly dodging the strike. In a flash, he appeared at Mohji's side, his fingers snaking back onto the hilt of the Great Grade Sword that Mohji had been pinning down.

"Void. Sever!"

Cabaji quickly erased the presence of Sakura Blizzard. Although Mohji had anticipated this move, he subconsciously loosened his grip, and Cabaji swiftly withdrew the blade, striking like lightning toward his opponent's undefended lower body.

Looking up, Shuma used Moonwalk to tread through the air as freely as if he were ice skating, chasing a seagull frantically fleeing across the sea surface. His expression could not have been more joyful.

After half a year, combined with the pressure of the environment, they had all more or less reached the apprentice stage in their training of the Six Powers.

If he had forced all the Six Powers on them at once, it would have only increased their mental burden. As it stood, this approach was safer.

Teaching them one or two techniques allowed them to learn faster; as long as they continued to specialize and refine those techniques, the power they could unleash would eventually become quite considerable.

Buggy's gaze shifted toward the interior of the island. It was time to prepare for the next target: the three-to-four-fold gravity zone.

After giving them three days of mental preparation, the group entered the deeper part of the island where the gravity was a level higher. Walking became significantly more difficult, and even though he could use Shave, Buggy felt the air resistance returning in this environment.

Training here would be even more arduous.

Beyond the practice of Shave, Finger Pistol, and Tempest Kick, Buggy did not neglect his own Devil Fruit ability.

He attempted to split his body infinitely: one became two, two became four, four became eight...

He discovered that the more he split, the more the power from within—as if from his soul—made him irritable and restless. Controlling parts of his body above his feet became extremely taxing, and his feet, serving as his base, even felt a strange sensation of slipping out of his control.

Currently, his fruit ability could be divided into passive splitting and active splitting. Passive splitting was more granular than active, but it lasted for a very short time; the body would generate an inexplicable force that forced every part to snap back together.

While active splitting could not reach the same level of detail as passive, it had no time limit as long as he had sufficient stamina.

He understood why the Buggy from the original story didn't practice or develop this Devil Fruit ability, which had such high potential and a high barrier to entry. Once splitting his body reached a certain point, it produced a sensation of his soul being torn apart. The finer the split, the more the pain intensified.

For the Buggy in the original story to learn this would be like living a life of "holding your breath until you can't take it anymore, gasping for air, and then holding it again."

This was a fruit ability that required immense willpower and unremitting effort to develop!

Night fell, and the stars were scattered across the sky.

Buggy sat cross-legged beneath a thick tree. He raised his right hand, and in the pouring moonlight, he began to fragment his hand into increasingly smaller pieces.

Under his control, his right hand split into chunks... then into threads... then into fine dust... then into mere points...

Once he reached a certain degree of fragmentation, he felt a strong sense of discomfort, and his brain began to swim with dizziness. Every part of his right hand instantly returned to the stump of his arm as if possessed of its own consciousness, reforming his palm.

His soul felt as if it had been torn asunder...

Buggy clutched his chest, gasping for air as a sharp pain radiated from what felt like his heart. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. "This really is an unscientific power..."

The night deepened...

In this zone where gravity was tripled or quadrupled, getting a stable, comfortable night's sleep was actually quite difficult. Sleeping felt as if one were covered in heavy lead weights; he often tossed and turned for a long time before falling into a light slumber, and in this state of discomfort, even the slightest breeze could startle him awake.

And such days continued on and on...