Chapter 6 — The First Test
Foosha had quieted again. The broken stalls were being rebuilt, the bandits long gone, but Boris could still feel the eyes on his back whenever he walked through the village. Gratitude mixed uneasily with suspicion. People smiled at him, but their voices dipped when they thought he wasn't listening.
Makino, ever kind, brought him food. Luffy followed him everywhere, declaring him a "real hero." Yet, when Boris was alone, he could only think of one thing—his power.
What exactly did I do?
The night after the fight, Boris slipped away from the tavern and headed toward the woods on the edge of Foosha. The moonlight cut silver lines between the trees. He clenched his fists, breathing deep, and whispered:
"I wish… my body could move faster."
The words left his lips like instinct. For a moment, nothing happened. Then—his pulse quickened. His muscles coiled tighter. When he moved, the world blurred. He stumbled, crashing into a tree, bark exploding under the force.
Boris staggered back, chest pounding. His breath came ragged, but his body didn't feel broken. Instead, it felt alive—too alive, like energy wanted to tear out of him.
So it wasn't just that one desperate moment in the village. His wish had worked again.
Hands trembling, he tried once more.
"I wish… I could heal faster."
Heat surged through his veins. The small cuts on his arms itched, then sealed before his eyes. His heart thudded painfully hard, but the wounds closed as if time had bent for him.
Boris dropped to his knees, the truth dawning heavy:
My wishes don't just save me once. They… rewrite me.
But each change came with a cost. His body felt heavier with every attempt, like his humanity was being carved away piece by piece. If he kept going, how long before he was something unrecognizable?
The crunch of footsteps startled him. Daigo stepped from the trees, pipe glowing faintly in his mouth. The old sailor regarded him for a long, heavy moment.
"…so it's true," Daigo muttered. "You've got something dangerous in you, boy."
Boris froze, words caught in his throat.
Daigo exhaled smoke, his gaze sharp but not cruel. "Power like that… it's a curse if you can't control it. And curses always draw attention. Pirates, Marines, bounty hunters—you'll paint a target on this village if you stay."
He turned away, leaving only one parting word:
"Decide quick, Boris. Are you gonna let that power eat you… or will you master it?"
Alone again, Boris stared at his hands, trembling but strong. He finally understood the truth—his escape from his old world hadn't freed him. It had only brought him to the start of another storm.
And for the first time, he whispered not out of desperation, but resolve.
"…I wish I can learn to control this."