One Piece: Honey Badger Speedruns the World

"Huff... huff..."

As that punch was unleashed, the violent power that had filled his body dissipated like the receding tide, followed by an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the door, followed by a loud knocking.

"Goss! Are you in there?"

It was Roger, a close friend I grew up with.

Goss shuffled and opened the door.

Outside the door, the last rays of the setting sun shone on Roger.

The wolf fur tribesman was dressed in a smart musketeer uniform, but his fur was somewhat disheveled, as if he had just been through strenuous exercise.

He was carrying a bag of leaves, from which the faint aroma of roasted meat wafted.

Seeing Goss covered in sweat and looking disheveled, Roger's initially serious expression softened.

"Take it."

Roger shoved the bag into Goss's arms.

"The roasted lizard meat was just brought from the Musketeers training camp; it's still hot."

Goss didn't mince words and grabbed the meat, tearing it into his mouth.

The aroma of meat filled my stomach, and the feeling of weakness finally eased a little.

Roger walked into the room, looked at his friend wolfing down his food, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke:

"Goss, I heard about what happened during the day. Captain Cicilian was a bit harsh, but don't take it to heart."

He paused, a hint of anticipation flickering in his eyes.

"Actually, the selection process for the Musketeers isn't that rigid. I just finished a six-month closed training camp and learned a lot of real combat skills."

Those power-generating techniques can be mastered even by someone like you who lacks strength.

Goss paused in his chewing. "You want to teach me?"

"right!"

Roger seemed somewhat excited; he cracked his wrists.

"Although there are very few spots available for supplementary enrollment, if we start special training now and teach you the skills, I think you still have a chance to wear this uniform."

As he spoke, Roger patted his chest.

"After all, we grew up together. Come on, while I'm still in great shape after the training camp, I'll teach you the most useful moves from that camp."

Goss swallowed the roasted meat in his mouth, feeling his strength returning slightly.

Looking into Roger's sincere eyes, a warm feeling washed over him.

"Okay." Goss wiped the oil from his mouth and slowly straightened up.

"Then I'll leave it to you, Instructor Rogge."

"That's right!"

Roger grinned and instantly adopted a unique starting stance.

He kept his center of gravity low and his back arched, like a fully drawn bow.

"Watch closely, Goss. This is a simplified version of the core training course for the Musketeers, called 'Flash Step'."

Roger's expression turned serious: "Ordinary people generate power through their legs, but this move relies on the resonance of the spine and ankles. This is a technique I mastered after six whole months of practice, training until I was exhausted every day!"

"Six months..."

Goss repeated it in a low voice.

"Yes, it's difficult. But I'll tell you the secrets to generating power, and you can try your best to learn them."

Before he finished speaking, Rogge's figure vanished from the spot in an instant.

So fast!

In the instant of his sprint, Roger's body compressed and released like a spring, and the burst of kinetic energy left a trail of afterimages in the narrow treehouse.

A strong wind rushed towards him, but Roger didn't actually fight. Instead, he stopped abruptly in front of Goss to demonstrate the power-generating motion.

"See that? Lift your heels three inches, using the muscles on your inner thighs to engage your core..."

Roger patiently explained every detail.

Goss watched Rogge's every tiny movement closely.

"I'll give it a try."

Goss took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second to recall, and then suddenly opened them.

He mimicked Roger's posture, lowering his center of gravity and twisting his ankles.

"Bang!"

Goss rushed out.

Although his movements were still somewhat distorted, and his speed was far slower than Roger's, and he even almost fell over due to his unstable center of gravity, he did indeed use the wolf-like thrusting technique to generate power.

Roger's eyes widened in disbelief: "You...you were right about where you applied the force just now! You've learned that before?"

"No, I just learned it." Goss panted, this move was extremely taxing on his stamina.

"How is this possible..."

Roger circled around Goss in surprise.

"It took me a week just to find that sense of balance, and you only looked at it once..."

But soon, Rogge's surprise turned into regret.

He shook his head, pointing to Goss's still slightly trembling calf:

"It's a pity. Although your consciousness has caught up, your body is too weak."

Roger sighed, most of his earlier excitement dissipating.

"Goss, look at yourself. Your muscles are trembling after just one poorly executed wolf thrust."

Your basic strength is much weaker than I imagined; your body simply can't withstand this kind of explosive attack.

"I can still practice," Goss said through gritted teeth.

"This isn't a question of whether or not to practice, it's a question of time!"

Roger interrupted him, his tone becoming very heavy.

"For the past six months, I've been in training camp, eating specially supplied high-energy meat every day, with dedicated instructors and the added benefit of static electricity stimulation to my muscles, which barely allowed me to achieve this. And you..."

He looked at the thin Goss, his eyes filled with a helpless sense of reality.

"Your starting point is too low. Although what you did just now surprised me, it proves that you have some understanding."

But at this pace, it would take at least a full year to train your physical condition to the point where you can use the Wolf Charge skill freely.

"A year?"

"That's still an optimistic estimate."

Roger patted Goss on the shoulder and said earnestly, "We can wait, but life can't. The Musketeers' supplementary enrollment is in three days. You can't possibly cover in three days what I did in six months."

Goss remained silent.

From Rogge's perspective, this was an insurmountable gap. It was a disparity that could not be bridged by effort alone.

Roger sighed, pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and stuffed it into Goss's hand.

"What is this?"

"Letter of recommendation from the logistics team."

Rogge avoided Goss's gaze.

"I originally wanted to give you special training to join the combat team, but now it seems... maybe transporting supplies is more suitable for you. At least it's safe there, and you can at least make a living."

Seeing Goss remain silent with his head down, Roger assumed his friend had finally come to terms with reality, so he casually changed the subject:

"Actually, the logistics are pretty good. And... I'll look after you from now on."

Roger straightened his collar, and a confident smile returned to his face.

"I've made tremendous progress in this training camp, you've seen it, haven't you? My speed and skills are so impressive, even the instructors praised me for my talent."

"I heard that Zou is going to hold a newcomer martial arts tournament in a week."

Rogge's eyes gleamed: "At that time, all newcomers who have joined for less than three years will participate in the daytime musketeers and the nighttime knights-errant."

The winner will not only receive the title of Rising Star Warrior, but will also receive personal guidance from the two kings.

"I'm sure I'll get a good ranking in this competition!"

Roger clenched his fist: "You'll be watching from the audience, I'll make you proud!"

Goss watched Roger's triumphant appearance, but his mind was still pondering the technique he had just used to exert force...

Sometime later, Roger had already left the cabin.

Meanwhile, Goss continues to train relentlessly.

The curvature of the spine, the point of force exertion in the ankles, the rhythm of breathing...

"As long as you put in the effort, there's nothing you can't learn."

Goss stuffed the remaining small piece of roast meat into his mouth, forcibly squeezing out the last bit of his strength.

"Let's begin. Tonight is still long."

……

late at night.

The moonlight in Zou cast dappled shadows through the gaps in the leaves.

Inside the treehouse, a figure was moving about in a strange and unpredictable manner within the narrow space.

If Roger were still alive, he would be absolutely stunned.

Because the footwork Goss was using at this moment was seven parts similar to his proud Wolf Strike!

"Not fast enough! It needs to be faster! Roger's movements are too flashy; get rid of the useless ones!"

Goss abandoned the fake moves that existed for the sake of looking cool, and only retained the most essential techniques.

It has lost its elegance and gained its ferocity.

As time goes by, that awkwardness is fading away rapidly.

The threshold that Rogge said would take a year to master is being gradually flattened under Goss's assailant-like training.

"Gulp!!!"

A strong feeling of hunger struck, forcing Goss to stop training.

But he rummaged through the house and ate everything that was edible.

Goss could only lie in bed, trying not to expend energy and to alleviate his hunger.

Just then, a surge of energy that had been dormant within the body seemed to have found its target.

This energy gradually awakened within his body, slowly flowing and covering his stomach.

[The Fruits of the Six Paths: The Hungry Ghost Path]

Your stomach is like a bottomless pit, efficiently converting food into energy and nutrients.