At dawn the next morning, Kyle was yanked out of his hammock by Rayleigh and tossed straight onto the deck. The icy sea wind slapped him awake in an instant.
Roger and Rayleigh stood in front of him like two guardian statues.
Roger folded his arms, grinning like he was watching a comedy.
Rayleigh adjusted his glasses, calm and severe.
"Before you learn how to use your Devil Fruit properly," Rayleigh said, "you need to understand one thing. A Devil Fruit gives you power—but it's your body that carries it. Your physique is the foundation of everything."
He nodded toward Roger. "This idiot doesn't have a Devil Fruit. If you fought him again, would the result be any different?"
Kyle glanced at Roger's toothy grin and shook his head instantly.
"Exactly. So your first training is combat fundamentals—physical conditioning and weapon use. What weapon do you want?"
Kyle didn't hesitate. "A long-bladed polearm. A naginata."
Roger raised a brow. "Why that?"
"My power is vibration. If I use a polearm, I can transmit shockwaves through the shaft and release them at the blade. Long reach, amplified impact."
Roger laughed. "Nice thinking!"
Rayleigh nodded slightly.
Then he handed Kyle a piece of paper.
Kyle's eye twitched.
Kyle's Personalized Training Plan
Morning: Run 100 laps around the ship with weights (speed depends on Captain's mood).
Late morning: Dragged swimming behind the ship (Captain may throw fish, barrels, or other 'surprises').
Afternoon: Weapon basics with Rayleigh. Live combat with Roger.
Evening: Dodge training. Get hit once, dinner is halved.
Night: Meditation and fine control of Devil Fruit.
Kyle broke into a cold sweat.
But he clenched his teeth.
"I accept."
And thus began his hell.
Within days he was bruised, battered, drowning, starving—and growing stronger.
Until one sunset, bruised and bloody, Kyle launched himself with a shockwave-powered step.
Roger actually slid back half a step.
Rayleigh smiled.
Kyle grinned.
He was finally getting somewhere.