The meat aroma filled the air as the bear finally succumbed to Foxy’s voracious appetite. He devoured it quickly and without hesitation. With his hunger satisfied, Foxy wasted no time and immediately began training Shave.
His right foot still managed nine stomps, and now his left foot could do the same, but the elusive tenth stomp remained out of reach. It felt like a dream from yesterday. Foxy was sweating profusely despite the freezing temperatures of minus thirty to forty degrees and the heavy snowfall.
After countless attempts, Foxy suddenly disappeared without warning, only to reappear five or six meters away, crashing headfirst into the snow. Emerging with a look of joy, Foxy wondered if this was finally real. He succeeded again, though the success rate was still low, and he couldn’t control his body afterward.
Excited and trembling with adrenaline, Foxy continued his relentless training. He stomped over fifty times until his legs were red and swollen. Unwilling to cripple himself, he paused, but not wasting time, he switched to handstands and finger exercises.
He succeeded once in the morning and again in the afternoon after lunch, but the success rate could have been higher. By dusk, he had only succeeded twice. At night, he consistently developed his Devil Fruit abilities before resting.
The next day, his perseverance paid off, as he succeeded five times, and Foxy began to get the hang of it. On the third day, he succeeded eight times, and on the fourth day, twelve times. It was tough, but the daily progress fueled his determination.
Clouds gathered and dispersed, and the heavy snow disappeared, replaced by a sky shrouded in dark clouds and intermittent lightning, filling the air with static.
“Shave!”
Instantly, Foxy moved five meters away, but his balance failed him, and he fell. Reacting quickly, he used his hands to perform backflips, landing stably.
Ten days they were passed since his first successful Shave, which ended with him crashing into a mountain. The second success saw him buried headfirst in snow. The third and fourth attempts also had him falling ungracefully. Even now, despite being able to use Shave at will, balance remained an issue, leading to frequent falls. Combat usage was still a distant goal.
Forty-one days on the island, Foxy trained Shave diligently, putting in immense effort. Now, he had a basic grasp, though yet to be combat-ready. Foxy believed that with relentless training, he would master shaving.
Shave, however, was extremely taxing on stamina. Thankfully, Foxy maintained his basic training, allowing him to withstand the heavy drain.
Flashing back and forth, Foxy showed a fierce determination in his eyes.
“It seems I need to push myself harder to master this quickly.”
He eyed the distant lightning, swallowing hard with some hesitation. Could his Shave be as fast as lightning?
“Damn it, to become stronger, I must be ruthless with myself. I’ll start at the outskirts; I didn’t get struck dead when I first arrived, so there’s nothing to fear.”
Determined, Foxy filled his belly and ran towards the riverbank opposite, which was shrouded in scattered lightning. Standing at the river’s edge, Foxy gritted his teeth and stepped forward, tensing every muscle.
“Crack…”
“Ah…”
With a scream, Foxy was struck by lightning, his hair standing on end and smoke rising from his nose and mouth. Paralyzed and in pain, he crawled out of the lightning zone, gasping with lingering fear.
After a while, he regained feeling in his limbs and sat up, still tingling but otherwise fine. Rubbing his chin, Foxy stared at the flickering area and the large thunderclouds above, his eyes growing brighter.
It seemed many protagonists in novels grew stronger through relentless trials, often using lightning to transform their bodies.
“I heard lightning can stimulate cells, so…”
“This outer lightning isn’t too strong; it can’t kill me. So…”
With a heroic expression, Foxy stood up and, finding no significant issues, gritted his teeth and charged back in.
“Crack… Ah…”
Unsurprisingly, he was struck again and crawled out, smoking. Foxy spent the whole day getting attacked several times, unable to react before being hit.
By nightfall, Foxy smelled of roasted meat, his body burning with pain. Despite the agony, he felt a strange itching under the pain, as if deep within his bones, but he couldn’t scratch it.
The next day, after basic training, he charged back into the lightning zone and was struck again. Housedged to use Shave to dodge once, guided by a sudden suspicion. He didn’t know why, but he acted instinctively.
Though he dodged one strike, he was hit by a second before he could regain his balance, crawling out smoking. Even his teeth were blackened.
On the fifth day, he saw his reflection in the ice while crossing the river. His skin had darkened, his long red nose had turned gray, and his facial features had become more balanced. His triangular eyes and reshaped eyebrows looked normal, though the three scars on his right cheek were still noticeable. Overall, he looked less worn than when he first arrived.
“Foxy, you’re destined for greatness. Look at you; just a little effort and you’ve changed so much. Keep going, and you’ll become a handsome man, naturally, without any surgery.”
Foxy was pleased with his progress. Though the changes were slight, they were happening. Awakening Life Return would make him handsome, sophisticated, and elegant. It would also mark the day he became strong enough to seek revenge.
With renewed determination, Foxy looked at the lightning zone, his closed left eye aching, his right eye gleaming with cold resolve. He hadn’t forgotten that feeling of despair.
Walking firmly into the lightning zone, a bolt of lightning descended. Sensing it, Foxy used Shave to disappear momentarily before it struck, reappearing six meters away, only to dodge another lightning strike.
Moving with ease and confidence, Foxy’s face radiated self-assurance, looking like someone destined for greatness.
After dodging four strikes, a scream broke the silence, and Foxy’s composed demeanor vanished. He crawled out of the zone, wincing in pain, realizing that the deeper he went, the denser and more robust the lightning became. Four dodges were his limit.
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