Despite the official punishment placing him and Kuina under house arrest, Luffy hardly saw it as a restriction—if anything, it was just an excuse to train even harder. Sitting still had never been his style, and he wasn't about to start now.
The moment they were confined to their quarters, Kuina let out a sigh, already expecting what Luffy would do.
"You're going back to training, aren't you?" She asked, arms crossed.
Luffy smirked, stretching his arms over his head. "What else am I gonna do? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs?"
Kuina rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She knew him too well.
Without wasting time, Luffy activated the Training Chamber. The air around him crackled as the hidden mechanism responded to his command, its energy surging to life. A door materialized before him—an entrance to separate reality, a world where time stretched and challenges awaited.
Stepping inside, Luffy exhaled deeply. The familiar sensation of the chamber enveloped him, a space where only one thing mattered—growth.
His eyes gleamed with determination.
Last time, I had Roger, Garp, and Goku... but this time... let's go even harder.
His fingers traced through the system's interface, selecting his new trainers. His fighting instincts had sharpened, but there was still room to evolve—to push beyond limits he hadn't even reached yet.
As the chamber finalized its setup, Luffy clenched his fists, his grin widening.
Time to see what real hand-to-hand combat is all about.
Before he could even blink, his opponent materialized before him.
Yujiro Hanma.
A clone, forged by the system, but no less monstrous. Standing before Luffy, the Demon Back flexing ever so slightly, was the very embodiment of strength. His crimson hair swayed gently, his expression a permanent mixture of disdain and amusement—like a beast observing a lesser creature.
Luffy exhaled, rolling his shoulders, and crackling his knuckles. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his muscles coiled tight in anticipation.
"Oi, old man. Show me what you got."
Yujiro didn't reply and just moved.
One second he was standing still, the next—
BANG!
Luffy barely had time to react before an invisible force slammed into his gut, sending him flying across the chamber. His body crashed through the reinforced walls, shattering them like glass.
What the hell—?!
The pain registered a second later. His ribs screamed in protest as he coughed, struggling to breathe.
Yujiro didn't even punch him directly.
It was the sheer pressure of his movement—just his foot shifting against the ground had generated enough force to launch Luffy like a cannonball.
His instincts roared.
Move!
He rolled, barely avoiding the heel that came crashing down where his head had been. The floor split apart, deep cracks spiderwebbing through the chamber.
Luffy flipped to his feet, wiping the blood off his lips. His heartbeat was erratic, but his grin never faltered.
Man... you don't hold back, huh?
Yujiro said nothing. He didn't need to.
Because he was already moving again.
Luffy met him head-on.
His fists flew, aiming for Yujiro's temple—a strike fast enough to overwhelm even admirals.
But it was too slow.
Yujiro tilted his head ever so slightly, avoiding the punch by a hair's breadth. Before Luffy could retract his arm, a fist buried itself into his liver.
White-hot agony flared through his body.
Luffy's vision blurred as bile rose in his throat. He staggered, barely keeping his feet as his muscles spasmed involuntarily.
And then—
CRACK!
A devastating palm strike landed square on his sternum.
Luffy felt his ribs splinter.
His body lifted off the ground, soaring backward before smashing against the chamber walls again.
The pain was unbearable. He wanted to gasp, to inhale—but his lungs refused to obey.
Yujiro watched him with cold amusement, his stance relaxed, like a beast toying with prey.
Luffy struggled to rise, his body screaming for him to use his Haki and his Devil Fruits.
His overwhelming strength would end this fight in seconds.
His instincts urged him to stop holding back.
But he clenched his fists, forcing himself to fight like a martial artist, not a monster.
"Not yet..." He muttered under his breath, wiping blood from his chin.
His pride wouldn't allow it.
Yujiro didn't need anything but his fists. If Luffy was going to evolve—if he was going to transcend—then he had to endure.
He had to learn.
He had to win without relying on his crutches.
The training was hell.
Yujiro broke him.
Again.
And again.
Each time Luffy tried to counter, Yujiro was already three steps ahead.
Each time he attempted a feint, Yujiro punished him brutally.
His strikes were impossibly fast, landing before Luffy even saw them coming.
He mastered every martial art, using whatever style fit the moment. Boxing. Karate. Judo. Wrestling. His techniques were flawless, executed with such perfect efficiency that even a single wrong move meant defeat.
Luffy had fought warriors stronger than him before.
But he had never fought someone with such raw, refined, human strength.
Days blurred into weeks.
Weeks into months.
His body broke.
He endured.
Yujiro's ruthless assault forged him anew.
Luffy learned to read movements better than ever before. He learned to control his own breathing and to relax his body at the exact moment of impact to minimize damage. His footwork evolved, his strikes sharper, deadlier, more precise.
He had no choice.
It was either evolve—or die.
On the final day of the third month, Luffy stood before Yujiro, his breath even.
This time, when the Ogre moved, Luffy saw it.
The flicker of muscles before a strike.
The subtle shift in weight.
The second Yujiro lunged, Luffy vanished.
Not with Soru and with any technique.
Just pure instinct, refined through suffering.
Yujiro's fist missed—for the first time.
And Luffy countered.
His fist, once wild and untamed, now flowed like water.
A perfectly controlled strike—fast, efficient, deadly—shot toward Yujiro's throat.
But it stopped just before impact.
Luffy grinned.
Yujiro grinned back.
For the first time, the beast acknowledged him.
He had learned and grown.
His fighting style was no longer the wild, untamed brawler's style.
It was more precise, lethal, and terrifying.
Finally, the time was up and Yujiro vanished.
Luffy exhaled. His entire body ached, every muscle fiber screaming for relief.
He flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders.
He felt lighter, faster, and sharper.
His fists clenched.
His fighting style had evolved. He wasn't just Luffy, the Devil Fruit user anymore.
He was Luffy, the Martial Artist.
A man whose bare hands alone could now shatter mountains, just like his grandpa, Garp.
And he wasn't done yet.
"Alright..." Luffy shouted excitedly, grinning. "Who's next?"
The system answered by revealing the next training partner for his owner.
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The titles of the next three chapters! (🔥Spoiler🔥)
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Chapter 90: Birth of the Divine Fist
Chapter 91: Awakening a New Sense
Chapter 92: Against the God
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