It took me a week to stop waking up in a cold sweat.
The nights aboard the Murky Scales were restless. Every time I drifted off, I dreamed of running — no, galloping — through fire-lit forests, hooves pounding against scorched earth, breath like storm clouds. I'd wake with my heart pounding and a faint smell of ozone in the air. More than once, I saw sparks dancing around my fingertips, reacting to my fear.
The Kirin wasn't just a power I could turn on and off. It was part of me now. Living, pulsing, waiting.
"You smell different," one of the Fishmen said one morning. "Like singed meat and lightning storms."
"Thanks," I muttered, chewing on some dried jerky that tasted like it had been caught a month ago.
The captain, Jaro, kept a close eye on me. He wasn't dumb. He knew what a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit meant. Power. Potential. And danger.
"You planning to mutiny?" he asked me on the sixth morning since I ate the fruit.
"Not unless your stew tries to kill me again," I replied.
That earned a rare chuckle from the crew. I was starting to fit in — barely. They stopped looking at me like I was a time bomb and more like an unpredictable mascot.
But the truth was, I didn't know how long I could control this power.
It started small — hands glowing faintly when I was annoyed, heat rising from my shoulders when someone startled me. Once, during training, I accidentally scorched the edge of the sailcloth. Jaro didn't like that.
"Control it," he snapped. "Or I'll chain you in the hold until you can."
That night, I climbed up to the crow's nest to think.
Below me, the sea was calm, moonlight reflecting off gentle waves. The stars were unfamiliar, but beautiful. I leaned back, breathing deep.
"I need a plan," I murmured.
Reincarnated into the One Piece world with a Mythical Zoan fruit. It sounded like the setup for a power fantasy, but the reality? This world was brutal. Devil Fruits didn't guarantee survival. Strength came with risk. There were warlords, admirals, Yonko — monsters beyond imagination.
I needed to get stronger. Smarter.
I needed training.
And as luck would have it, trouble found me first.
—
We were a few days away from the next island when the lookout shouted: "Marine sails!"
Panic rippled through the crew. Orders flew. Cannons were loaded, sails trimmed. I dashed to the deck and saw them — two white-sailed ships bearing the seagull symbol. Fast. Armed.
"Brace for combat!" Jaro roared. "We outrun one, maybe not both!"
The Fishmen moved like a well-oiled machine, manning ballistas and preparing sea mines. I turned to Jaro.
"Let me help."
"You don't know what you're doing."
"I can fight."
He hesitated. Then nodded. "Try not to burn my ship down."
—
The first cannonball missed by a mile. The second clipped the stern.
I activated my Devil Fruit powers for real this time — pushing past the burn, the resistance in my chest. My skin shimmered, limbs stretching and reforming. The pain was real — bones grinding, muscles warping — but the power was undeniable.
In moments, I stood half-transformed — humanoid, but with golden hooves, flickering white flame along my shoulders, lightning crackling through my hair.
I leapt from the deck — and soared.
Not flight. More like a jump fueled by storm and fire. I landed on the first Marine ship's mast, splintering wood and sending sailors scrambling.
They shouted. A few fired rifles. The bullets stung but bounced off scaled skin.
I roared — and lightning exploded from my mouth.
Sails caught fire. The mast groaned and collapsed.
I moved without thinking, primal instincts guiding me. My body crackled with energy. I kicked open doors, knocked aside defenders. I didn't kill — not yet. But I left destruction in my wake.
On the second ship, cannons turned toward me.
Too late.
I launched another thunderclap — this time from my hooves. The ship rocked, men fell, and then came the water. Steam billowed as fire met sea.
—
By the time I returned to the Murky Scales, the battle was over.
The Marines were retreating — battered, flaming ships limping away.
The crew stared at me in awe.
Jaro approached, arms crossed.
"You've got potential," he said. "You're no ordinary brat."
I exhaled, power fading. The transformation melted away, leaving me drained and dizzy.
"I need training," I panted. "Control. Focus."
He nodded. "There's an island ahead. Not on the maps. We use it to hide, restock. It's quiet. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for."
I nodded, still catching my breath.
The Kirin was awake now.
And it was hungry.