ONE PIECE: THE RED LION - CH 3

As I walked to the sparring zone, I eyed Sergeant Whiskers, finding myself… excited at the idea of fighting him.

Excited and confused, excited at the idea of… fighting, and confused at the idea of me being excited for a fight. Maybe this new body of man belonged to a race of battle junkie fighters, like the Saiyans…

Wait, now that I remember, the letter had I had found at the beginning had said I was a Fanalis.

And if I remember correctly, the Fanalis are battle junkies.

Did I really overlook that bit of information until now?

I suppose there’s been a lot going on since I woke here.

"Alright, Sarge," I said, my voice steady and brimming with challenge. "Let's dance."

Let’s dance?

Am I trying to steal Madara’s thing?

Chuckling at the thought, I shifted my weight onto the balls of my feet, dropping into a defensive stance. The ground beneath me felt solid, reassuring against my soles. I could feel every fiber in my body tightened like coiled springs, ready to unleash or absorb whatever Whiskers threw at me. My crimson eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, there was nothing else, no island, no crowd of onlookers, only the space between us and the fight ahead.

The corners of Whisker's mouth quirked up in a knowing smile. As he cracked his knuckles, I could feel my ears tuning into the subtle shifts of the air, every rustle of fabric and creak of muscle. I could feel my breath coming in controlled inhales and exhales, creating a rhythm that matched the drumbeat of my pounding heart.

I didn’t know how well Fanalis in general scaled in this universe, however, I did know that I was eager to find out at first hand.

"Come on then," I taunted, my voice low and rich with the promise of battle. "Show me what you've got."

With a feline grace, Sergeant Whiskers lunged forward. His paws becoming a whirlwind of motion as they sliced through the air toward me. Each strike aimed with a precision that spoke of countless battles, a true testament to his tribe's martial prowess.

With the echo of his first hit connecting to my arm, the tempo of his assault rose swiftly, a barrage of swipes and thrusts designed to overwhelm.

For a moment, I found myself wondering what to do, seeing as the attacks felt like they were too fast for me to do something about it. However, before I could ponder on that thought any longer, every sense in my being sharpened to an edge finer than the finest blade, and in the space between heartbeats, the world around me slowed down. Whiskers' initially impressive flurry of attacks, intended to be a blur too fast for eyes to follow, now seemed… slow to me. His fists, which should have been cannons based on the sound they were making upon contact with my body, felt like they would deliver no more than the gentlest of taps.

"Is this it?" I found myself thinking, almost disappointed. The anticipation had built Whiskers up in my mind, painted him as a tempest of force. Yet here he was, his strikes methodical, yes, but painfully sluggish against my heightened perception.

This was… odd.

But not unwelcomed.

I do enjoy the idea of being overpowered, that’s basically the point of any Isekai.

An involuntary smirk tugged at my lips as I deftly sidestepped another one of his 'lightning-fast' punches. It was like stepping out of the way of a gently drifting feather. Seeing this, a surge of confidence swelled within me.

"Not bad," Whiskers whistled, swiping his paw through thin air where I had stood moments before.

If I remember correctly, the Fanalis were known for many things, one of them being, their absurdly powerful kicks.

"Let’s try something," I muttered, my gaze locked onto the Mink before me. His eyes, sharp and focused, betrayed no concern. But he hadn't seen what I was truly capable of, not yet. Though being fair, not even I had seen what I was capable of.

With a wild grin, I shifted my weight forward, letting go of all hesitation. My leg coiled like a spring, muscles tightening with pent-up energy. There was no bravado, no grandstanding, just the pure, unbridled desire to strike, to challenge the limits of my newfound strength.

So, eager to see what I was capable of, I launched my kick, a blur of motion aimed squarely at Whiskers. My foot cut through the air, a silent promise of force. That being said, Whiskers didn't even flinch. The moment my leg surged forward, he was already in motion, slipping aside with the ease of a seasoned warrior. Despite finding his movements to be painfully slow, I could barely register his movement, a mere shift in stance, and he was out of my kick's trajectory.

My foot, hungry for contact, found nothing but empty air.

"Predictable, Val," Whiskers chided, a smirk playing across his furred face as he eyed me from his new position. "I don’t think anyone could’ve telegraphed that kick harder than that."

But my momentum was unstoppable. A surge of raw power rocketed down from my core, through my thigh, and to my calf. It begged for release, an untamed beast clawing its way free. Without a target, my kick met the ground, the solid earth that had seemed so immovable until now.

The impact was colossal. A thunderous crack split the silence as the ground beneath my heel gave way. Cracks spider-webbed out from the point of collision, racing across the training field like lightning across a stormy sky as the ground erupted, sending chunks of earth and dust soaring into the air as the shockwave of my kick ripped outward, tearing through the training grounds.

I straightened, feeling vibrations shuddering through my body, echoes of the devastation I'd unwittingly wrought. Beneath me, the earth still trembled, unsettled by the fury of my attack, as for my opponent.

Well…

Whiskers simply stood there, wide-eyed, his earlier confidence replaced by a look of total shock that almost seemed comical.

As for me.

Well, I was on the same boat.

I had expected a powerful kick, but this was honestly… ridiculous.

As I stared at the now destroyed ground, Whiskers' gaze met mine, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite read. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his stance, brushing off the dust that clung to his fur-trimmed armor.

"You win," Whiskers called out, his voice carrying over the settling rumble of the ground, "There’s no point in continuing with this spar."

I blinked, still coming down from the adrenaline high. "You sure?" I asked, half-expecting him to pounce any moment, revealing this as another seasoned tactic.

"Fuck yes." The mink snorted, crossing his arms as the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a wry grin. "You might not know how to fight, seeing that much is glaringly obvious, but you my strange friend… are a monster. If that kick had connected with me, I would’ve become Sergeant Ghost."

I hadn’t put all my strength in that kick, and he was saying that if I hadn’t missed, I would’ve killed him? There was something about the way he said it, no jealousy, no bitterness, just the straightforward acknowledgment of what had just happened.

"It wasn’t my intention to… well, almost kill you," I replied, allowing a genuine smile to break across my face.

"I know," Whiskers replied, his grin widening. "When I said you were bad at fighting I wasn’t kidding, you didn’t look like a warrior trying to end another warrior’s life, but more like a kid… testing their new toy," He looked around at the gaping hole in the training ground, shaking his head with what might have been admiration. "I’m just glad it was me you spared with, and not one of the newbies."

Oh crap, he’s right. If I hadn’t spar with someone capable of reading me so easily, I would’ve killed someone.

"Yeah," I nodded, feeling a peculiar mix of relief and disappointment. Relief I hadn’t killed anyone, and disappointed the fight hadn’t provided me with a challenge.

Honestly, this Fanalis body is a freaking roller coaster of emotions.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!!!" Nekomamushi exclaimed, his voice filled with unabashed awe. "You're so strong!!"

"Yeah, teach us your moves!!" Inuarashi chimed in, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement.

Their enthusiasm was rather infectious, to the point that I couldn't help but chuckle at their earnestness. These pint-sized versions of the legendary Minks I had seen in the anime were now looking up at me with such admiration, it almost made me pinch their cheeks.

"As flattering as this is," I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. "Sergeant Whiskers is right when he says I have no experience fighting. I’m just a very strong guy."

"That's not true, Mr. Val!" Inuarashi countered, his tail wagging back and forth so energetically it was like a whip. "You shattered the ground without even trying! That's way more than just being 'a very strong guy.' That’s like being the strongest!"

Mr. Val? Since when I went from stranger to Mr. Val?

Nekomamushi nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with adoration. "Yeah! You're like a superhero!"

"You can stay in Zou for as long as you want!" Inuarashi declared, puffing his chest out. "We can always learn something from a big strong guy like you! And and… You can can eat as much meat as you heart desires during your stay!"

"I can’t wait to learn how to be that strong!" Nekomamushi added, his tail flicking back and forth as he daydreamed about a future where he, too, could shatter the ground with a single kick, leaving a crater behind.

This was adorable.

But I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going.

"It seems you already have your first fans, and you haven’t even been here for more than a hour," Brutus, the big burly mink I had met a few minutes ago said, taking a liking to the role of sarcastic commentator, noted with a teasing smirk as he strode over.