Thud… thud…
Amid the constant tremors shaking the ground, Shanu arrived in front of a massive tree over ten meters tall.
Glancing up at the treetop, he suddenly reached out with both hands, digging his fingers into the trunk. His bulging latissimus muscles tensed sharply, and the ground below erupted with a series of deep cracking sounds.
It wasn't just uprooting—the entire layer of soil was being overturned!
The colossal tree, weighing three to four tons, along with a waterfall of cascading soil, lifted off the ground, firmly held in his hands.
Shanu then turned his gaze toward the mountain opposite him.
The distance from his current position was roughly three to four hundred meters.
He took careful aim, said nothing, focused all his strength, and hurled the giant tree from his shoulders.
Whoosh!
The tree shot toward the opposite mountaintop like a spear. Shanu simultaneously lifted his heel, tensed briefly, and stomped down.
"Tzi!"
His figure blurred in motion, and the next instant, he appeared atop the massive tree. The trunk sank slightly under his weight and slowed marginally—but still maintained its momentum, hurtling toward the mountain.
The biting wind whipped past, trees and streams sped beneath his feet, and Shanu narrowed his eyes, focused on the mountaintop ahead.
Like the previous mountaintop, this peak had also been leased and converted into his exclusive training ground.
However, compared to the pockmarked ruin of the last mountain, this one was much better—its peak had been leveled, leaving a massive open-air platform.
At the platform's edge stood Scarface, Skinny Monkey, and two others. Seeing the massive tree flying toward them, they panicked and retreated toward the far side.
Boom!
The tree crashed into the center of the platform. Shanu leapt down, landing solidly. He hooked the tree with one foot and casually kicked it, sending it rolling down the mountainside.
Thunk—
Even after months of being accustomed to Shanu's shocking displays, Scarface and the others swallowed hard instinctively.
"Did you bring the guns?" Shanu asked casually.
"All of them, boss." Scarface immediately drew a flintlock from his back; the others did the same.
"Like I said yesterday, aim for my head and fire quickly."
Shanu paused, then glanced at Skinny Monkey. "You don't need to aim for my head—aim for my feet."
"Uh…" Skinny Monkey blushed. "Boss, my aim has improved a lot… hitting your knees should be just right."
"…Fine."
Shanu shook his head and stood in the center of the platform, hands clasped behind him, facing the wind.
The other four spread to the four corners—east, south, west, north—closing in, raising their guns, all aiming at Shanu's head.
"Fire!"
Scarface waved his hand and shouted the order.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sparse gunfire shattered the mountain's silence. Orange-red muzzle flashes erupted in succession. One round finished, they reloaded quickly and fired again.
Clang! Clang!
Shanu stood motionless, letting the bullets strike his head.
Every shot, from every angle, was deflected instantly with the crisp sound of metal striking stone. Even the fleshy layers of his cheeks responded like pebbles hitting a lake, rippling slightly and instantly returning to normal.
This was the effect of mastering "Bronze Head"—even without accelerating blood flow with Tekkai, he could completely ignore the impact of bullets.
Whoosh—!
A bullet came straight at him—directly, perfectly aligned with his eye.
"Not good!"
Scarface panicked, raising his hand to stop the others. "Hey! Don't shoot! Boss, are you okay?"
The gunfire halted. The group saw that the bullet hadn't bounced off—it seemed to hover, stuck in front of his eyeball.
"I'm fine. Don't worry."
Shanu calmly flipped his eyeball upward, trapping the bullet under his upper eyelid.
A grinding sound echoed. The bullet crumbled into countless tiny lead fragments, sliding slowly down Shanu's nose.
…
Silence fell over the group.
"Looks like it works well," Shanu said, satisfied, smiling at the stunned Scarface and others. "Alright, that's enough for today. Go handle your own tasks."
"Yes, boss."
The group slowly snapped out of their shock, retreating from the platform while constantly glancing back, clearly awed.
Shanu was unsurprised.
The "Bronze Head" skill description had been clear: it strengthened everything above the neck, including seemingly fragile organs like eyes and nasal passages. Even his tongue could remain soft or harden like steel, capable of piercing a chest like a dagger.
Shanu moved to the southern edge of the platform.
He gazed out toward Cocoayashi Village's only harbor.
The dock was empty, with only a few small fishing boats moored.
"Arlong…" Shanu murmured. "Spring has come… when will you finally arrive?"
For five months, he slept only four hours a day. All other time was spent in grueling training.
Four months ago, Soru reached minor mastery; two months ago, major mastery. Then Tekkai and Bronze Head followed.
His body, forged through relentless training, had become incomparably powerful. Strength surged, explosively increasing overall combat ability.
Against the Arlong Pirate Crew, he now had absolute confidence. His muscles, his heartbeat—they craved battle, craving to tear through strong enemies.
But unfortunately, a year has twelve months.
It was only early March, so expecting Arlong to reach Cocoayashi Village within the first two months was unrealistic.
"Hope you don't come too late," Shanu muttered, licking dry lips. "If your strength doesn't match my level, I'll be disappointed…"
A gust of wind swept by, swallowing his voice.
Emotions, whether excitement or repeated disappointment, could not withstand the relentless march of time.
By April, the trading market refreshed with Rokushiki manuals. Shanu bought them, unlocking Geppo and Shigan, and began training.
In May, the Arlong Pirate Crew still hadn't appeared. The island's hardest mountain finally collapsed. Shanu spent days leveling it by punching and kicking it flat, creating a perfect place for villagers to gather and celebrate festivals.
By June, Geppo and Shigan reached mastery.
Shanu leased another mountain. During Shigan practice, he shattered everything above the mountain's midsection, creating beautiful sunlight-dappled patterns on the ground.
Yet, when his silhouette stood at the mountain's edge, staring like a lone sentinel at the harbor, he seemed somewhat lonely from afar.
July: Nami and Nojiko's birthdays. Shanu prepared a massive cake and called Scarface's crew to celebrate. Pushing the cake cart, he accidentally twisted the steel frame, tipping the cake and causing Nami to cry loudly.
August: The trading market refreshed Flesh Forge Method, the third manual, Iron Bones. Its training was very similar to Tekkai.
Scarface's crew now had a new task: lifting one-meter-tall spiked clubs, pounding Shanu's joints and bones. Before, two people rotated; now six trained simultaneously.
September: Shanu reached 1.93 meters tall, 140 kg. His black training suit, weighted progressively, now totaled 2.1 tons.
One night:
Half-asleep, Nami got up to use the bathroom, passing Shanu's room. She vaguely heard his murmurs:
"Come, Arlong… come, Arlong… Why… why aren't you here yet…"
Arlong?
Do girls even go by that name?
Nami became suspicious, planning to ask around the next morning. Unfortunately, children's memory of nighttime events is almost zero. By the time she brushed her teeth, she had completely forgotten.
October: Mid-month. Shanu completed Iron Bones.
The orange groves entered harvest season, the workshop was ready, canned oranges and marmalade production began. Bellemere worked from dawn to dusk, ecstatic.
Meanwhile, in a nearby coastal town:
A group of tall fishmen laughed freely, their backs laden with bulging bags of money.
"Seems the people on this island are all cowards, chuumi~"
The kissing fishman twisted his neck, savoring the moment. "Not a single one resisted. Last island was more fun… I wanted to turn this one to ruins too."
"The humans are weak and ignorant, small and cowardly—a naturally inferior and vile race."
The purple fishman in command sneered. "Next island—what's it called?"
"Hmm… Cocoayashi Village."
The drunken Six-Sword Swordsman set down his wine gourd, checked the map. "Not a big village—should be the easiest to conquer."
"Is that so?"
The purple fishman grinned, baring sharp teeth beneath his shark-like nose. "Hahaha—how boring. Let's see if these humans are worth anything… how much juice can we squeeze from them…"