Chapter 5 — The Wish That Changed Everything
Foosha Village was unusually tense that day. The normally quiet docks echoed with the sound of shouts, crashing crates, and panicked villagers fleeing toward safety. Higuma the bandit and his men had returned, this time more violent, more desperate, more cruel.
Boris stood at the edge of the main street, heart pounding. He had seen fights before—both in his old world and the days since arriving here—but this was different. Higuma wasn't just a loud drunk making threats. He was a predator, and Foosha Village was his chosen prey.
"Bring out your valuables!" Higuma snarled, his blade glinting in the sunlight. "Food, sake, money—I'll take it all. And anyone who resists…" His eyes swept the crowd like a wolf scanning sheep.
Boris clenched his fists. His instincts screamed at him to stay quiet, to hide, to let someone else handle it. But Foosha wasn't the kind of place with heroes hiding in the alleys. Shanks and his crew were away at sea. Daigo was too old to fight. And the villagers… they were just ordinary people.
Then he saw Luffy. The boy, small but fiery, was already standing up to Higuma with reckless courage, shouting insults that made the bandits laugh. For a moment, Boris's chest tightened. Luffy reminded him of himself when he was younger—brash, defiant, not yet broken by reality.
But the bandits weren't laughing to play along. They were laughing because they saw an easy kill.
When one of Higuma's men raised his sword toward Luffy, something in Boris snapped.
Not again.
Not another life lost in front of him. Not another failure carved into his conscience.
Without thinking, he stepped forward. The bandit sneered. "What's this, another fool?"
Boris's body trembled—not from fear, but from the surge building inside. His power. That impossible force he had tried to ignore. The wishing. He had always treated it like a dangerous accident, a curse he could never control. But now, in this moment, with a child's life hanging in the balance, he didn't care about control.
"I… wish…" His voice cracked, almost drowned by the chaos. His heart hammered like a drum, every beat fueling the impossible. "I wish… I had the strength to protect them!"
The world shivered.
It wasn't a flash of light, not a beam from the heavens, not reality twisting like a dream. It was subtler, scarier—like his very skin was rewriting itself, muscle fibers tightening, nerves sparking awake, blood surging with raw energy.
The bandit lunged at him—
Boris caught the blade.
Metal shrieked against his palm, sparks flying. For a heartbeat, everyone froze. The bandit's eyes bulged in disbelief. Boris stared down at his hand, bleeding but unyielding, and realized the truth: the wish hadn't made the world bend. It had bent him.
He was no longer the same man as a moment ago.
With a roar he didn't know he had, Boris swung his arm and sent the bandit crashing into a wall. The others hesitated, their bravado cracking. Higuma snarled and charged in himself.
The fight was brutal, chaotic. Boris moved like a man possessed. Every strike he made carried more force than before, every step felt lighter, faster. He wasn't invincible—he still bled, still hurt—but he endured more than he ever could have dreamed. His body felt alive, remade, burning with a strength that wasn't natural.
And as he fought, a thought carved itself into his mind:
Every wish rewrites me. Not them. Not the world. Me.
By the time Higuma lay unconscious in the dirt, his crew scattered in fear, Foosha Village was silent. The people stared—not cheering, not rushing to thank him—just staring. Their eyes weren't filled with gratitude. They were filled with unease.
Because what they had just witnessed wasn't human.
Boris staggered, breathing heavily. His arms ached like fire, his vision blurred, and for a terrifying moment, he didn't recognize his own reflection in a shard of broken glass nearby. His eyes seemed sharper. His muscles stronger. His very presence… heavier.
Luffy, however, broke the silence with a grin.
"That was awesome!"
The boy's words pierced through the fear surrounding Boris. But deep down, Boris felt no pride. Only dread. Because he finally understood his power.
And it terrified him.