"Foxxy, up so early again?"
Having finished his morning water-carrying circuit, Foxxy walked home to begin the next round of training. Along the way, various villagers greeted him with warm smiles.
"Morning, Anster!"
Foxxy waved cheerfully at the middle-aged man stretching in his courtyard — though with Foxxy's face, the smile looked… slightly indecent.
"You brat, I'm your uncle,"
Anster huffed, trying to look stern despite his fifty-something years.
"That just means you're aging well. Careful with your back, Uncle."
Foxxy grinned, triangular eyes squinting mischievously.
Anster's old face flushed, and he coughed lightly.
"Do you need more supplies at home?"
"If I do, I won't be polite."
Foxxy kept walking, looking like he belonged here — because after a month of living and helping around, he truly did. And Anster had helped him countless times already.
"That kid… he really has changed."
Watching Foxxy's retreating figure, Anster still found it hard to believe.
One month ago, Foxxy was rude, lazy, and aimless.
Now he was polite, hardworking, and oddly charming.
A good change — one that the whole village noticed.
The Art of Social Survival
"Abis! You're looking younger again."
Passing another home, Foxxy spotted Auntie Abis hanging blankets. His grin widened.
"Really?"
The fifty-something woman, wearing an apron, brightened considerably. She looked at Foxxy with fondness — this child really knew how to talk.
"If I had been born a few years earlier, you would've never married Kot.
Your heart would've belonged to me."
Foxxy tapped his chest dramatically.
"My, my! Such boldness!"
Abis covered her cheeks, laughing.
"Foxxy! You're flirting with my wife again so early in the morning!"
A burly, fifty-year-old man rushed out from the house, waving a broom menacingly.
"Kot, you two have been married for decades. Jealous at your age?"
Abis grabbed her husband's arm and rolled her eyes.
"I bet Kot must've used shameful tricks to win you back then."
Foxxy whistled innocently.
"You brat! Don't run if you've got guts!"
Kot barked, but if one looked closely, his grin betrayed him.
"You two are over fifty. Stop bullying a child."
Foxxy snorted with a mock glare.
The villagers around burst into laughter.
Some teased Kot, some joined the banter.
After chatting for ten minutes, Foxxy continued home.
Passing any man, he'd say, "Looking handsome today!"
Passing any woman — regardless of age — he'd say, "You're looking beautiful!"
Praise never went out of fashion.
Even the seventy-year-old granny next door beamed toothlessly when he complimented her.
Daily Training Begins
After breakfast, Foxxy headed to his yard — the one he built himself this past month by chopping trees and carrying logs from the mountain.
Scattered stones lay everywhere — all tools for training.
He stripped to the waist and looked down at his now-flat stomach.
A month ago, it had looked nine months pregnant.
Now faint abs were visible.
He inhaled deeply and began push-ups.
His current record was 400. Yesterday, he finally hit 401.
Before transmigrating, he couldn't even do twenty. He'd collapse like a neutered dog after a few reps.
There were plenty of moments this month when he wanted to quit.
He considered staying in the village forever, living quietly.
He was just an ordinary person — lazy by nature, no ambitions, no goals.
Someone who preferred lying over sitting, and sitting over standing.
Training was torture.
But then he thought of all the things he wanted to see in this world — the exotic islands, the battles, the food… the beautiful women…
And so he gritted his teeth and kept going.
Little by little, he changed.
He proved to himself he could last thirty days — breaking every limit he once had.
Morning: water-carrying, push-ups, frog jumps, running.
Afternoon: entering the mountains, developing the Slow-Slow Fruit, hunting for nutrition.
Evening: well… he wanted to do "special exercise," but he was still too young.
He had to grow — quietly and strategically.
No pirates, no Marines had shown up yet.
But Abis mentioned that once every two months, a merchant ship passed this island.
He'd been here thirty-three days.
He still had time.
Foxxy remained firm —
He would join the Marines.
It was the safest and smartest path.
Half a Month Later
Time continued to slip away unnoticed.
Life was simple, repetitive, and fulfilling.
Until—
"ROOOAR!"
A deafening roar shook the forest behind the village.
The ground trembled.
A five-meter-long striped tiger charged forward, jaws wide, tearing through branches and undergrowth as it chased a fleeing figure.
Foxxy.
With a healthy flush on his face, he darted between trees and rocks like an agile monkey — far faster than any sprinter from his previous life.
But despite his speed, Foxxy still felt a sting of panic.
He had known this tiger for ten days.
The first time they met, he nearly died.
If not for his Devil Fruit, he would've been tiger poop by now.
But in his panic, he also lost the chance to kill the beast.
After that encounter, the tiger got smarter.
Whenever Foxxy fired a Slow-Slow beam, it dodged instantly.
Foxxy cursed the intelligence of animals in this world —
It was terrifying.
From then on, their relationship turned into… something strange.
A mix of rivalry and training.
Foxxy started provoking the tiger on purpose.
He treated it as his whetstone.
He found its den.
He threw rocks at it while it slept.
He even smacked its butt once.
He only needed one result:
Make it mad.
Make it chase him.
Make it help him grow.
Running sharpened his senses, quickened his reflexes, hardened his heart.
Every chase was like a life-and-death training session.
Exhilarating.
And now, sprinting at full speed, Foxxy turned back and made a mocking face at the tiger.
The king of beasts roared furiously, voice shaking leaves loose.
The tiger was done with this little demon of a human.
Its sleep was ruined.
Its meals were disrupted.
Its dignity was shattered.
This human was too fast.
Too cunning.
Today — TODAY — it would catch him.
Or it wouldn't be a tiger.
Fueled by rage, the tiger accelerated, snapping branches as birds and beasts fled in terror.
A man being chased by a giant tiger —
Truly a spectacular scene…
Foxxy, sweating and laughing crazily, shouted back:
"COME ON THEN! LET'S SEE WHO GETS TIRED FIRST!"