Chapter 5: A Year of Sweat, Screams, and Explosive Bananas (With a Side of Divine Whining)
**MC POV**
It's been a few days. Or… weeks? Maybe months? Honestly, I had no idea anymore. Time on this godforsaken island blurred like a bad dream you couldn't wake up from. My body ached from head to toe—muscles screaming in protest every time I moved, bones feeling like they'd been tenderized by a meat mallet. My stomach constantly growled like an angry beast, demanding tribute that our meager fish-and-fruit diet barely satisfied. And Aqua? Oh, she was somehow still being annoying, lounging around like this was a luxury spa retreat instead of a survival nightmare. She'd upgraded from constant crying to constant complaining, which was... progress? Sort of?
I wiped sweat from my brow, staring at the river that had become my reluctant training partner. "{Ego}, how many days have passed?" I asked, trying not to sound too tired. My voice came out raspier than intended, like I'd gargled sand.
{Ego}: Its analytical tone buzzed in my head, as emotionless as ever. "Precise calculation: 27 days, 14 hours, 32 minutes, and 51 seconds since arrival. During this time, your 'training' has yielded results equivalent to zero. You are statistically more skilled at yelling at Aqua than at martial arts. Recommendation: Reallocate efforts from verbal sparring to physical exertion."
"…Thanks for the encouragement," I muttered, slumping against a tree. Great, even my own skill was roasting me.
{Ego}: "Correction: It is not encouragement. It is a statement of your incompetence. Probability of user improvement without intervention: 8%. Shall I initiate motivational protocol?"
Aqua, who had been lying in the grass nearby, picking her nose with the enthusiasm of a bored toddler, perked up like she'd heard free food being offered. "Pfft—HAHAHA! Even your skill thinks you suck! Oh man, that's gold! Sunny the Sucky Fighter—new title unlocked!"
I glared at her, my eye twitching. "Oh yeah? At least I'm TRYING to get stronger! What's your excuse, Goddess of Laziness? You've been here the same amount of time and all you've mastered is the art of being a human sloth!"
Aqua stuck her tongue out, rolling onto her back dramatically. "I'm divine! I don't need to train like some sweaty mortal. My powers are innate—perfect from birth! Unlike you, Mr. Punches-Air-And-Misses."
{Ego}: "Observation: The goddess has attempted zero training, aside from perfecting the art of crying and eating other people's food. Efficiency rating: Negative 15%. Recommendation: Immediate corrective measures."
"Wha—HEY! That's rude!" Aqua snapped, sitting up so fast she knocked a coconut off a low branch, which bonked her on the head. "Ow! See? Even the trees hate me now! And for the record, my crying is therapeutic! It purifies the air or... something!"
{Ego}: "Correction: You require it more than anyone else. Commencing training protocol. Analyzing user data for personalized regimens."
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto my face. Oh, this was going to be good. "You hear that, Aqua? Ego's got plans for you too. No more freeloading."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Pfft, whatever. How bad could it be? I'm a goddess—I'll ace it!"
Famous last words.
**Ego's Training Plans**
For me? Ego didn't hold back.
{Ego}: "Analyzing optimal regimens from One Piece combatants. Cross-referencing with user's borrowed skills from Bang and Jiro. Conclusion: Your training shall mirror Monkey D. Garp's methods—brutal, unrelenting, and designed to break the body before rebuilding it."
I blinked, a chill running down my spine. "Wait. You mean… the guy who punches battleships for fun? The one who trained Luffy by throwing him off cliffs?"
{Ego}: "Yes. You will punch mountains until your fists break. Then you will continue punching. Additionally, you will practice on an abandoned ship composed of Adam Wood reinforced with Sea Stone, courtesy of RBG's dimensional delivery service. Material properties: Indestructible to normal forces, nullifies Devil Fruit powers on contact. Perfect for Haki refinement."
"Sea… stone…?!" I yelped, imagining my knuckles turning to mush. Sea Stone was the kryptonite of the One Piece world—draining energy from anyone who touched it. "That's not training; that's torture!"
{Ego}: "Correct. Estimated completion time: 12 lifetimes, adjusted for user's mortality. Commence immediately. Failure to comply will result in motivational audio loops of Aqua's whining."
I screamed to the heavens, shaking my fist at the sky. "RBG, YOU SADISTIC ASSHOLE! This is your idea of 'fun'?!"
A faint chuckle echoed in the wind—probably RBG laughing from his cosmic couch. Aqua snorted from her spot in the grass. "Have fun breaking your knuckles, Sunny! I'll be over here, being divine and not sweaty."
Of course, Ego didn't forget her. Oh no.
{Ego}: "Goddess designation: Aqua. Training shall begin in the swamp sector. Objective: Stabilize erratic divine mana through environmental adversity."
Aqua tilted her head, blinking innocently. "Swamp? Oh, that sounds easy! I can just splash around, purify some mud, maybe make a holy bubble bath—piece of cake!"
Hours later, reality hit her like a tidal wave. She was knee-deep in toxic mud that bubbled like a witch's cauldron, chased by venomous frogs that croaked insults (or so she claimed) and bloodsucking insects the size of her head, buzzing like tiny helicopters on a mission to drain her dry.
Aqua: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Get off me, you slimy freaks! Sunny, help! This isn't training; this is a horror movie!"
I folded my arms, leaning against a tree from a safe distance, smirking like the smug jerk I was becoming. "Looks easy, huh? Keep splashing around—I'm sure that'll scare them off."
One particularly aggressive frog leaped onto her shoulder, its tongue flicking out like a whip. Aqua flailed wildly, slipping in the mud and face-planting with a splat. She emerged covered in goo, sputtering. "This mud tastes like evil! Ego, you monster!"
{Ego}: "Observation: The goddess is now 67% poison, 23% panic, and 10% tears. Continue protocol. Purification attempts will build resistance."
Aqua shrieked as a swamp worm—thick as my arm and wriggling like it had places to be—latched onto her leg. "I HATE THIS TRAININGGGG! Sunny, save me or I'll curse you with eternal bad hair days!"
I chuckled, waving her off. "Good luck, partner! Remember, you're divine—ace it!"
She threw a mud ball at me, missing by a mile and hitting a tree instead, which promptly attracted more bugs. Comedy gold.
**A Year of Hell**
And so began our training camp from hell. Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, each one a grind of pain, failure, and the occasional triumphant "aha!" moment—usually followed by more pain.
**Observation Haki Training**
Ego introduced me to a beast it called the Exploding Banana Gorilla (Capture Level 14, courtesy of RBG's Toriko mash-up). Picture a massive ape with fur like yellow spikes, hurling bananas that detonated on impact like fruity grenades. The explosions weren't lethal (usually), but they stung like hell and left craters the size of kiddie pools.
{Ego}: "Dodge. Blindfolded. Objective: Heighten sensory awareness to predict attacks without sight."
"Blindfolded?! Are you insane?!" I protested, tying a strip of cloth over my eyes anyway. What choice did I have?
{Ego}: "Statistically, yes. Insanity rating: 72%. Begin."
The gorilla roared, and the barrage started. BOOM. A banana whizzed past my ear, exploding behind me and singeing my hair. BOOM. Another clipped my shoulder, sending me tumbling. BOOM. Straight to the gut—ow, that one cracked a rib.
For weeks, my daily life was dodging explosive bananas while blindfolded, the jungle echoing with blasts like a fireworks show gone wrong. My nose was broken three times (healed via Aqua's reluctant blessings). My ribs? I lost count after five. I tripped over roots, face-planted into mud, and once got launched into the river by a direct hit—emerging soaked and furious.
But slowly… I began to feel it. The subtle vibrations in the ground before a throw. The shift in air pressure. The gorilla's killing intent, like a prickly aura warning me to move.
And then one day—BOOM—I sidestepped perfectly, the blast missing me by inches. I ripped off the blindfold, grinning like a maniac. "Observation… I can see it… even without seeing! Take that, you fruity freak!"
The gorilla hurled another banana in response. BOOM. Right in my smug face.
{Ego}: "Congratulations. You have learned the basics of Observation Haki. Efficiency rating: 43%. Recommendation: Avoid premature celebration. Probability of user hubris leading to injury: 89%."
**Armament Haki Training**
The ship RBG had "gifted" me wasn't just any wreck—it was a hulking mass of Adam Wood (the toughest stuff in One Piece) fused with Sea Stone, glowing faintly with that energy-draining vibe. Punching it felt like slamming my fists into a brick wall that punched back, sapping my strength with every hit.
Bang's martial arts guided my flow—redirecting my own force like water around rocks. Jiro's knocking honed my strikes, targeting "weak points" that weren't really weak. My knuckles shattered, healed (thanks to Aqua's buffs, grumbled through tears), shattered again. Blood stained the deck; blisters became calluses became scars.
But then, one morning after months of agony, as I punched with everything I had, the ship's surface actually cracked—a hairline fracture that echoed like victory.
A black sheen coated my fist, hard as steel. "Armament Haki…" I whispered, flexing it experimentally. "I did it! Take that, unbreakable hunk of junk!"
{Ego}: "Correction: You did not do it. You accidentally did it during a tantrum. Improvement is required. Continue."
But as days became months, my control sharpened. By the end of the year, I wasn't just coating my fists—I could harden parts of my body at will, even push Armament Haki inside a target to explode from within. I tested it on a rock; it shattered like glass. Badass.
{Ego}: "Achievement unlocked: Advanced Armament Haki. Efficiency rating: 72%. User ego inflation: Critical levels."
**Conqueror's Haki Training**
This one was trickier—more mental than physical. I trained my spirit by meditating under waterfalls, facing down packs of wild beasts, willing them to submit. I could knock out weaker ones, make them tremble and flee. But the advanced forms—infusing it into attacks like Shanks or Luffy? Beyond me.
{Ego}: "Reason: Insufficient Haki reserves. Solution: Stop whining, continue training. Probability of breakthrough: 22% without near-death experience."
Great, so I needed to almost die. Again.
**Aqua's Hell**
While I was sweating blood and breaking bones, Aqua had her own comedic torture. Ego forced her to purify swamp water every day—turning toxic sludge into drinkable liquid without wasting mana. At first, her attempts backfired spectacularly: One "purification" turned the water into bubbling acid that melted a tree. Another created a holy fountain that attracted every bug on the island.
She learned to bless food and water, making them super-nutritious (our fish now tasted like gourmet feasts). She could create purifying barriers that dissolved poison and curses—handy after I got bitten by a venomous snake during gorilla dodging. And surprisingly, she gained control over her emotional bursts, so her "crying" no longer wasted divine mana—instead channeling it into bursts of power.
Aqua: (bragging one day, covered in mud but beaming) "See? I'm useful now! I blessed your lunch—extra protein and no more tummy aches!"
{Ego}: "Correction: Marginally less useless. Uselessness reduction: 28%. Continue protocol."
Aqua: "WHAT?! I'll show you useless—take this!" She splashed holy water at me, which just made my skin tingle pleasantly. "Ugh, even my attacks are helpful now!"
**The End of Year One**
After one grueling year:
- Observation Haki → Mastered basics, starting to see "future flickers" in flashes (like dodging a punch before it happened—still glitchy, but cool).
- Armament Haki → Achieved Advanced coating, internal destruction (boom from the inside—satisfying).
- Conqueror's Haki → Stronger, but not enough for advanced forms (no kingly infusions yet).
- Flowing Seal Fist → Sharper, faster, more efficient—combining Bang's flow with Jiro's precision into a seamless style.
- Aqua → Reliable purification, barriers, buffs (she could amp my speed and strength for short bursts, turning me into a mini-Saitama... minus the one-punch).
We weren't the same two idiots that washed up on this island. My body was leaner, tougher—eight-year-old frame hiding the power of a seasoned fighter. Aqua's whines had evolved into sassy quips, her powers more focused.
I stood on the beach, fists clenched, body hardened with Armament, Aqua's blessing shimmering around me like a holy aura. The waves crashed rhythmically, the sun setting in a blaze of orange.
I smirked. "Next time, RBG… I'll show you who's entertainment. No more being your punchline."
Aqua, holding a makeshift staff she'd carved from driftwood (adorned with "divine" shells), puffed up her chest. "And I'll show you who's the most beautiful, divine, radiant—"
She tripped over a coconut mid-pose, face-planting in the sand with a muffled "Oof!" Sand flew everywhere, sticking to her like glitter on a craft project gone wrong.
I sighed, helping her up. "…Still an idiot."
{Ego}: "Correction: Goddess = idiot confirmed. Probability of future trips: 92%."
Aqua jumped back up, sand still sticking to her face like a bad mask. "HEY! Stop calling me an idiot! I'm a goddess, you know! Respect your elders—or betters—or whatever!"
{Ego}: "Statistical analysis confirms: 97% idiocy, 3% luck. Recommendation: Install anti-trip footwear."
"Ughhh!" Aqua stomped her foot like a child, kicking up more sand. "You two are ganging up on me! This is bullying!"
Before I could laugh harder, the ground suddenly trembled beneath us. Waves crashed harder against the shore, sending spray flying. Birds scattered from the treeline in a panicked flock, and the air grew heavy, thick with an ominous pressure that made my Haki senses tingle.
I froze, stance shifting instinctively. "…{Ego}. What is this? Earthquake?"
{Ego}: "Alert. Incoming lifeform. Estimated Capture Level: 23. Biological scan: Massive, armored, carnivorous. Probability of survival: 14%. Recommendation: Run. Or fight. Preferably run."
"FOURTEEN?!" I yelled, eyes scanning the jungle. "What the hell is it?!"
Right then, the trees at the edge of the swamp exploded outward in a shower of splintered wood and leaves. A massive beast lumbered into view—scales shimmering like molten steel under the fading sun, tusks as long as spears curving wickedly, and glowing red eyes fixed on us with predatory hunger. It was the size of a small house, muscles rippling under armored hide, steam hissing from its nostrils like a living furnace.
{Ego}: "Designation: Hellboar Titan. A mutated version of the Hellboar from Toriko lore. Temperament: Aggressive. Current mood: Hungry. Abilities: Fire breath, seismic charges, regenerative hide. Weak points: Minimal."
Aqua squealed like a tea kettle, clutching my arm so hard it hurt. "W-why is THAT here?! It looks like it eats gods for breakfast! Sunny, do something!"
The skies crackled with thunder, even though there were no clouds. A booming voice echoed down from nowhere, laced with amusement.
RBG: "Because, my cute little pawns, you've been training for a year! And what kind of story doesn't have a test after a training arc? Now fight or die! Also, I skipped lunch, so consider this monster your 'final exam.' Make it entertaining—bonus points for style!"
I shook my fist at the sky, veins popping. "YOU STUPID GAMEMASTER!! This isn't a game; it's our lives!"
RBG: "Love you too~. Oh, and pro tip: Aim for the eyes. Or don't—more fun that way."
The Hellboar Titan roared, its breath melting the sand beneath it into glass, the ground shaking as it pawed the earth.
Aqua's teeth chattered like castanets. "S-s-s-Sunnyyyyy… I can't purify THAT thing! It's like ten churches worth of evil!! My barriers might hold for, like, five seconds!"
I hardened my fists with Armament, the black sheen gleaming. Observation Haki flared, giving me flickers of the beast's charge—tusks aimed right at us. For the first time, my body felt steady—trained, ready. No more flailing kid; I was a fighter now.
I smirked, cracking my neck. "Good. Then it's the perfect test. Let's see if a year's worth of hell pays off."
{Ego}: "Statement: I recommend you survive. I am not responsible for your stupidity if you do not. Probability of witty one-liner backfiring: 65%."
"Thanks, Ego," I muttered, settling into my Flowing Seal Fist stance—body loose like water, ready to flow and strike.
The Hellboar Titan pawed the ground one last time, tusks gleaming menacingly, then roared again—shaking the trees—and charged like a freight train from hell.
Aqua whimpered beside me, raising her staff with trembling hands. "O-okay… fine. I'll buff you. Holy Blessing: Super Sunny Mode! But if we die, I'm blaming you—and haunting RBG forever!"
"Deal," I said, energy surging from her buff. Here we go.