One Piece: Supreme Haki

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"The Trauma Treasure Chest" - Masked Deuce.

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The wind hummed gently as Deuce guided their newly obtained vessel through the calm sea. It was a pleasant change from the storm that had nearly killed them three days ago.

Ahead of him, the steady rhythm of clang clang—whoosh—clang repeated like a chant.

Ace stood shirtless on the deck, bathed in sunlight, sweat dripping from his brow. In one hand, he gripped the hilt of the sword tightly—his new companion.

Staying in theme with his pirate crew, The Spades, and his ship the Spadille, he named the blade:

Armand De Brignac.

A blade that would battle alongside him, following his ambition.

He moved like a machine, striking down again and again. Each swing carried his intent, sharp and focused.

In his mind, he visualized Mihawk—the world's greatest swordsman. The intensity in his gaze, the stillness in his stance, the deadly purpose behind each slash.

'To cut is to will,' he reminded himself, repeating a line from Alucard's book. 'The blade is not a tool. It is an extension of the soul. And the soul must know its purpose.'

Ace exhaled, his next slash slicing the air cleanly.

Deuce watched silently for a moment.

"You've been at that for hours."

Ace didn't stop.

"To become a sword master… I have to become one with the blade. That's what the manual says."

Deuce nodded and smiled. "Well, if you keel over from exhaustion, I'm not carrying you."

Ace grunted, finishing another set of practiced motions.

Later that afternoon, a jagged green shape appeared on the horizon.

"Land ahoy," Deuce called out.

Ace jumped onto the bow.

'I wonder what island that is.'

They docked along the rocky shoreline, and no sooner had their boots touched soil than a bizarre creature charged out of the forest.

A pig… with a lion's mane?

Ace tilted his head. 'So it's that island.'

From all directions, strange animal hybrids emerged—hippo-gorilla, bear-tiger, fox-roosters—each more absurd than the last. The animals let out war cries and moved to attack.

"I guess we're not welcome," Deuce muttered, putting away his journal and drawing his knife from its sheath.

Ace responded by drawing his blade—not to kill, but to guard. His movements were controlled, sharp. He used the flat side of his blade to quickly incapacitate the beasts.

"Stop!" came a voice, hoarse and commanding.

A figure emerged from the foliage: half-man, half-chest.

"Don't hurt them!" he cried, hobbling forward.

Ace sheathed his blade instantly.

"Oh."

The small man quickly caught his breath.

"Who are you? Why are you on the island?"

"My name is Portgas D. Ace. I'm an adventurer."

'Oh no, pirates… they will steal my treasure.' The little man quickly ran off, leaving behind a stunned Ace and Deuce.

That evening, they sat by a fire.

The now-introduced Gaimon explained his story.

He had been part of a pirate crew sailing their ship, the Machina Hallelujah. He had fallen inside an open chest unconscious—and over time, his body had grown dependent on it. His crew had already departed when he awoke. This occurred two decades ago.

"I can't live without it now," he admitted.

"Tried once. Nearly died from the shock."

The creatures suddenly surrounded the old man, hugging him. This gesture didn't go unnoticed by the two newcomers.

Ace didn't laugh. He nodded solemnly.

"Let me guess. With this new accessory, you can't climb back up?" he questioned softly.

"Yes," nodded the man, tears threatening to spill out.

Deuce simply stared sadly after hearing the man's story, scribbling in his journal.

Ace suddenly jumped up.

"Thankfully, we're here now. Let's go. Someone's long overdue for their treasure."

The man's eyes shone, and then flickered with a hint of unease.

"What if I lead you to the chest and you take my treasure for yourself?" questioned the man.

"You already told me there's treasure on this island. If I really wanted to take it, me and my crew could simply search for it."

"I know you've been wronged before, but trust in me," Ace finished with a bright smile.

As he finished speaking, a low translucent light erupted out of him.

To everyone standing there, Ace appeared as the most trustworthy man ever. He was bathed in a warm glow that whispered friendliness.

After thinking it over for a bit, the old man sighed.

"Fine, I'll put my trust in you, Ace."

Deuce smiled at his captain before turning his attention back toward his journal.

"That's the spirit. Let's go!" Ace shouted enthusiastically.

As they approached the mountainside, Ace grabbed a pair of vines. Using the vines, Deuce tied Gaimon onto Ace's back.

After firmly securing the man, they began to climb. Deuce climbed behind him, focusing intently not to fall.

At the top of the cliff, the chests lay in a neat row, untouched for two decades.

Ace untied the man and simply watched the story take place as he knew it.

Deuce, noticing Ace's lackluster stare, began to grow curious about the chest's contents.

Gaimon, unaware, opened the first one.

Empty.

He froze for a second before moving on to the others.

The second.

Nothing.

One by one, each chest opened… revealing dust, rust, and disappointment.

Gaimon stared, silent. His smile now completely void from his face.

It reminded Ace of a meme from his past life.

Thousand yard stare.

Finally, the man spoke with a monotone voice.

"So, it was all for nothing…"

Ace didn't say anything at first. He let the silence settle. Then he placed a hand on the man's abundant afro.

"Look down there," he said.

Gaimon, still devoid of emotion, obeyed Ace's command like it was second nature.

"You were here for twenty years. Hoping that one day you would gain the treasure you so desperately desired. I know that I can't understand what you must be feeling, however—it certainly wasn't for nothing."

Gaimon suddenly looked up and shouted.

"Then what was it all for!?"

"This suffering of being enclosed in a tight space!"

"Hoping that one day something good will finally happen for me!"

The man finished his outburst, now crying tears.

Ace sat down.

"I thought you looked down, but you didn't."

"Not this again!" the old man grimaced.

"Look!" Ace shouted.

Wiping his tears, Gaimon peeked down again.

Standing around were the island's many inhabitants.

"Don't you see? You may have lost out on a bunch of treasure, but you gained something worth even more. True companions. When you were recounting your story, they stood by your side, comforting you. When you finally got the chance to accomplish your dream, they were excited for you.

Can't you see?

This is what you gained.

This is why your two decades on this island weren't for naught."

The old man was completely stunned by Ace's speech.

Suddenly, he looked down and shouted with a mix of tears.

"Thank you all for remaining by my side! You all made this island livable!"

Ace smiled at the old man's change of heart.

'Jesus, this is too peak,' thought Deuce, writing in his journal while sobbing.

Ace simply stared at him, chuckling.

"Captain, you're amazing at speeches. You know that, right?" Deuce spoke, putting away his journal.

"Yeah, I guess I have a knack for being inspirational." Ace chuckled to himself.

'Although, I do plan on stealing a few popular speeches.' They'll never know, thought Ace.

Deuce suddenly stared at Ace, sensing something had changed in him.

The next morning, Ace and Deuce prepared to set sail once again. Their supplies were restocked with fruits and fresh water, thanks to Gaimon's help.

As the sails unfurled and the gangplank lifted, a strange clucking filled the air.

"Uh," Deuce said.

"We have company."

The fox-rooster, Cocox, stood proudly on the deck, chirping as if it belonged there.

Gaimon waved from shore, laughing. "She's chosen you, Ace! She's always wanted to see the world. Take good care of her for me!"

Ace grinned.

"Welcome aboard, Cocox."

The strange fox crowed and puffed its chest proudly.

As they left the island behind, Deuce took the helm once again.

Ace sat cross-legged on the deck, sword across his lap, returning to his training.

Cocox perched beside him, occasionally crowing.

Ace smiled before closing his eyes.

He could feel the ship's motion. The tension in his grip. The weight of the blade. The pulsing rhythm of the ocean beneath him. It all had to sync together—intent, focus, flow.

Suddenly, he shot to his feet.

A slash.

Then another.

And another.

All identical. All purposeful.

His eyes opened.

'Yes!'

He thought to himself.

He had succeeded in the first step of Alucard's training:

Purpose behind his swings.

He could feel his improvement. He could probably defeat his previous self in three swings.

The feeling of improvement was infectious. He wanted more.

He would master Haki.

He would master the sword.

And one day, he would uncover the truth of the world.

To be continued…