Luke's initial fascination with his Magnet-Magnet Fruit (Jiki Jiki no Mi) had been absolute. The power was clean, potent, and felt like a god-tier cheat code in a world where muscle and steel reigned. He spent his afternoons, away from Adam and Elara, conducting increasingly sophisticated experiments on Port Lily's deserted western beach. He learned to manipulate vast quantities of iron shavings, creating complex, spiraling shapes, or using the magnetic field to silently lift and move dozens of heavy, rusted cannonballs salvaged from old shipwrecks. He could subtly influence the trajectory of a tossed dagger or use the earth's own magnetic field to create a brief, disorienting static shock in metal objects.
Yet, his corporate-honed mind, always focused on risk assessment, soon identified the critical, potentially fatal flaws in his dependency.
The first realization hit him during an intense study session with Elara, who pointed out a nearby naval outpost on a Grand Line map. "They use Sea Prism Stone shackles on the dangerous ones, child. Nullifies all Devil Fruit power, turns them into dead weight." Luke had gone cold. A single pair of Sea Prism cuffs, or worse, a weapon coated in the material, would render him utterly useless—a non-swimmer standing against a world of monsters.
The second realization came from Adam's own sparring taunts: "What happens when your enemy is rubber, or wood, or just pure water?" His power was conditional. To survive the unpredictable chaos of the Grand Line, Luke needed fundamental, physical mastery that required no external conditions. He needed a body that could fight even if his fruit was negated.
His ambition was not to be a powerful magnet; it was to become the strongest man in the world. To achieve that, he needed versatility. He needed the path Adam was walking.
The very next morning, Luke appeared at the Hiro Dojo, not as a spectator, but as a student.
Hiro simply regarded him with a long, unreadable stare, then tossed him a slightly shorter, lighter oak bokken—perfectly sized for a smaller frame but still heavy enough to demand respect. The master knew ambition when he saw it, and Luke's motivation was a palpable force.
Luke plunged into Adam's grueling regimen. While the pain was agonizing, Luke approached it with the ruthless efficiency of an executive attacking a hostile takeover.
He embraced the Endurance Laps, using the exhaustion to sharpen his mind rather than dull it. He viewed the pain of the Shiko-dachi Stance not as suffering, but as necessary expenditure—a required investment for future returns. His inherent focus, developed over years of high-stakes corporate pressure, allowed him to endure the monotony with slightly better mental resilience than the more emotionally driven Adam.
When they moved to the Kirioroshi (Vertical Downward Cut), the difference between the two boys became clear, yet subtle. Adam, driven by sheer grit, was building brute force and consistency, his technique painstakingly earned through sweat and frustration. Luke, however, displayed an almost supernatural sense of balance and alignment.
Luke was, indeed, a slightly faster learner. This wasn't because of superior athleticism, but because his mind, now intimately familiar with the invisible forces of his Devil Fruit, subconsciously used his power as a fine-tuning mechanism. When his footwork was off-center, his magnetic energy would subtly push against the metallic traces in the ground or pull against the small iron filings in his own clothing, adjusting his center of gravity by a fraction of an inch. It was invisible, quiet, and kept his form unnaturally clean.
Adam, watching Luke execute the perfect snap of the Kaze-otoshi after only six months—a sound that had taken Adam nearly ten—would mutter angrily. "It's the Devil Fruit! You're cheating!"
"I'm utilizing all available resources, Adam," Luke would retort, wiping the sweat from his orange hair, echoing the cold logic of a board meeting. "And my 'resource' still makes my thighs burn just as much as yours."
Despite the rivalry, their shared pain strengthened their bond further. They were now bound by a common, brutal purpose, pushing each other through the daily torment of becoming stronger.
One sweltering afternoon, after a session of rigorous paired kata practice where both boys were drenched and trembling, Hiro had them resting in the shaded dojo porch, sipping cool tea. The master was silent, observing the vast, hazy ocean horizon.
Luke, his mind perpetually racing ahead, saw his opportunity. He knew the limitations of swordsmanship—even the most masterful swordsman could be countered by an intangible Logia-type Devil Fruit user. Swordsmanship was strong, but it was incomplete.
Luke set down his teacup, the wood floor creaking faintly beneath his movement. "Master Hiro," he asked, his voice steady and respectful. "I have read about the legends of the Grand Line. I've heard the whispers among the crews at the port. There is a power—an invisible strength—that transcends muscle and Devil Fruits. A power that lets you strike the true body of a man of smoke or pierce the skin of a man of stone."
Hiro's calm expression cracked just slightly. His hooded eyes sharpened, fixing Luke with an intense, penetrating gaze. He had never discussed such things with the local youths. He wondered where an orphan from Port Lily had acquired this knowledge.
"You speak of a secret power, child," Hiro finally replied, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. "You speak of Haki."
Luke nodded. "The three Colors."
Hiro sighed, a deep sound that spoke of ancient battles and lost comrades. He shifted, adopting a teaching posture. Adam, bewildered, sat forward eagerly. This was not the standard lesson.
"Haki is not a magic or a Devil Fruit," Hiro began, his tone serious and reverent. "It is the innate willpower that lies deep within all living beings in this world. Most do not realize they possess it. It is the ability to tap into that spiritual energy and make it manifest. There are indeed three types, three 'Colors,' as the legends name them."
He raised one gnarled hand, counting on his fingers, explaining with the clarity of a veteran warrior.
"The first is the Color of Observation (Kenbunshoku Haki). This is the 'Eyes of the Mind.' It allows the user to sense the presence, emotion, and life force of others even when they are unseen. At its peak, it grants a limited ability to predict the opponent's next move. It is the awareness that keeps a cautious man alive on the sea."
He held up a second finger, his gaze turning hard.
"The second is the Color of Armament (Busoshoku Haki). This is the 'Invisible Armor.' It allows the user to turn their willpower into a protective shell, hardening any part of their body like unbreakable armor. This is the power that matters most to a swordsman, Luke. It is the only power that allows you to strike the intangible core of a Devil Fruit user—to make contact with a man of fire or light. It is strength made visible and absolute."
Hiro paused, his gaze sweeping over Luke and Adam, measuring their fierce ambition. He knew they possessed the raw spirit necessary.
"And finally," Hiro continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "there is the rarest—the Color of the Supreme King (Haoshoku Haki). This Haki cannot be trained or earned. It is an innate royalty, possessed by one in several million. It is the power to dominate the wills of others, to stand above all others. It is the sign of one destined to stand at the top of the world. I have only encountered it once in my life."
Adam was wide-eyed, completely mesmerized. Luke, however, simply absorbed the details, confirming the fragments of knowledge he already possessed.
"Will you teach us, Master Hiro?" Luke asked, his voice a quiet challenge.
Hiro slowly shook his head. "Haki is not learned through instruction like a sword stance. It is awakened through intense mental focus, near-death experience, and relentless mental fortitude. I can guide you, show you the principles, and prepare your bodies and spirits, but the awakening must come from within. When your spirits are ready—when your will is strong enough to resist the vast, crushing pressure of the New World—then I will begin the true training."
The conversation galvanized Luke. He now viewed his training not just as preparing his body, but as hardening his spirit. His life in Port Lily settled into a brutal, tripartite routine:
1. Swordsmanship (Body and Technique): Two hours daily with Adam under Hiro, focused on the fundamentals, balance, and the economy of motion. Luke dedicated himself to making the sword an extension of his will, recognizing that a mastery of Busoshoku Haki would make the blade invincible.
2. Magnetic Manipulation (Power and Range): His afternoon secret sessions intensified. He moved beyond simply lifting metal. He was now learning to repel metallic objects with explosive force, to create a subtle magnetic tether on distant objects for silent surveillance, and to use the earth's natural magnetism to boost his jumping height by manipulating the metal within his own belt buckle and boot eyelets. He realized his power was as much about subtle force as brute strength.
3. Haki Preparation (Will and Spirit): This was the hardest part. Under Hiro's subtle guidance, Luke began practicing extreme meditation—holding his breath until his lungs screamed, focusing his mind on a single object (a single copper coin) until his vision blurred. He was trying to push his willpower past its breaking point, searching for the hidden "Color" within his own soul.
Luke still spent slightly more mental energy mastering his Devil Fruit, recognizing it as his most unique weapon, but he committed equally to all three disciplines. He no longer saw them as separate paths, but as the three braided strands of his future strength. Swordsmanship gave him foundation, the Devil Fruit gave him unique attack potential, and the promise of Haki gave him the key to unlocking the power of the gods.
Port Lily remained their quiet, necessary oasis—a place to train and heal before the terrifying, magnificent world of the Grand Line would call them forth.