Three Days Later
I was minding my own business, and thinking about different things. When I noticed my thoughts were becoming boring nonsense, I blinked and found myself in the inner world.
Yeah, now I can be here whenever I want. Cool, right? Well, sort of. What's the catch? My body in the world of One Piece is supposed to be completely still, which basically means I have to switch off. No autopilot, no instincts—just me, lying there, defenseless. Very convenient.
Yeah.
Training with Gojo has been... an experience. The first day, he thought it'd be hilarious to sic a pack of crazy wolves on me. Yeah, I know that their name is 'divine Wolfe' but they look more like crazy hell dogs—especially when they are trying to rip my face off—and 'creepy wolves' is the kindest name I can call them by.
The important thing is that after one near-death experience too many, Gojo decided it was "too early" for them. (Fingers crossed it stays "too early" forever.)
Now, training is slightly less life-threatening. Instead of wolves, I'm stuck dodging a bunch of dummies in what looks like a randomly generated arena. At first, I thought, Hey, since Gojo can bend reality here, he can create a restaurant that would make the most delicious pizza during my break!
Yeah, no.
I asked, and Gojo just said, "No." No explanation. No discussion. Just no.
I am sure that he doesn't want to do it. I constantly see him drinking soda or eating ice cream or some cakes.
But, hey, at least my new 'training partners' aren't actively trying to tear me apart anymore. Their new mission? Tag me. Sounds harmless, right? Wrong. Every time one of them touches me, my whole body is struck by lightning.
Not the "Ouch, static shock" kind. It's more like the "Welcome to Zeus's victims list" kind.
That being said, I'll take electrocution over getting my head gnawed on any day. So, not so bad.
"Let's begin," The moment Gojo snapped his fingers, the world around me shifted.
One second, I was standing on a perfectly flat training field, my new cursed energy-infused gear fitting like a dream. The next, I was smack in the middle of a bustling town square, only—there was no bustle. No people. Just empty market stalls, cobblestone streets, and an eerie stillness hanging in the air like the world had hit pause. The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows between the buildings, and a warm breeze carried the scent of stone, dust, and something metallic.
Then I heard it.
The soft click-click-click of multiple feet stepping in unison. I turned, and my stomach twisted. A dozen manikins, humanoid but with creep smiles, stood at the edge of the square. Their joints creaked as they moved, heads snapping toward me in unnatural jerks. Their featureless faces sent a chill down my spine.
"Alright, kid, time to run." Gojo's voice echoed around me, but I couldn't see him. Of course, he was watching from somewhere, probably munching on popcorn. "Don't forget - you get tagged, you get zapped. So, y'know, don't get tagged."
The manikins took a step forward, then another—
I bolted.
My sneakers barely touched the ground as I shot down the narrow streets, cursed energy filled my limbs. The town was a maze of alleys, archways, and staircases, and I had no idea where I was going. I took sharp turns, leaping over crates, ducking under clotheslines, anything to increase distance between me and the nightmare parade on my heels.
Behind me, the clatter of their limbs grew louder. They were fast. I risked a glance over my shoulder—bad idea. One of them was already vaulting over a cart, its hand reaching out.
A memory of lightning flashed through my mind. I threw myself forward, barely dodging the swipe. My heart pounded. Alright, no more looking back. I had to find a way to shake them.
Then the world flickered.
In an instant, the warm sun vanished, replaced by the cold, gray light of an overcast sky. My feet skidded against cracked asphalt. The cobblestone streets were gone—now I was in the middle of a modern city, abandoned and lifeless. Skyscrapers loomed overhead, their glass windows shattered. Cars sat rusting along the streets. Everything felt eerily empty, like the set of a post-apocalyptic movie.
The manikins didn't care.
They adjusted instantly, moving faster now. And of course, Gojo had given them an upgrade—some of them had started jumping from rooftops.
"Really? Parkour mannequins?" I yelled, vaulting over a car hood.
Last day the maximum for them was to be similar to dump fast zombies.
"Keep moving, Allen!" Gojo's voice called out, annoyingly cherful.
I sprinted down an alley. My sneakers absorbed every impact, my gloves pulsing with energy as I used them to push off walls, rebounding from fire escapes and ledges.
And of course I had to keep the cursed energy flowing through them, or I'd be running like a regular human—and also use my eyes to minimize consumption.
The manikins were relentless, climbing buildings with inhuman grace, dropping down from above. One landed right in front of me, its arm swinging out—
I ducked, feeling the static charge of a near miss, and rolled beneath its legs before breaking into another sprint. My only advantage was agility, but these things were learning. They were adapting.
Then the world shifted again.
This time, towering trees replaced concrete and steel. A thick forest swallowed the ruins whole, its gnarled roots pushing through broken roads, vines hanging from skeletal buildings. The ground beneath me was soft earth, damp leaves squelching underfoot. The air smelled of rain and pine, and the dim sunlight barely pierced through the canopy.
I didn't slow down.
Branches whipped against my arms as I tore through the undergrowth. The manikins were still there, but now their movement was heavier, clumsier. The uneven terrain threw them off—at least, for now.
I leapt over a fallen log, landing hard and pushing off immediately. A vine snagged my foot, but I kicked free, stumbling forward. The sound of pursuit hadn't stopped, but it was more chaotic now. Some of the manikins were getting caught on roots, others crashing into low-hanging branches.
My gloves thrummed as I grabbed onto a tree branch, swinging myself up and over a broken bridge. I didn't stop moving, zigzagging between trees, using the environment to my advantage.
Then, just when I thought I was finally gaining ground—
A single manikin dropped down in front of me from the trees above, landing in a crouch. Tsk.
It lunged.
I twisted, barely dodging its grasp, but this time I wasn't fast enough. My foot caught on a root, and I went down hard. Before I could scramble up—
CRACK!
A bolt of lightning surged through me. Every muscle in my body seized up for a second before the pain faded, leaving me gasping.
"Well," Gojo's voice rang out. "The end."
The manikins froze, standing eerily still. The forest around me dissolved like mist, and I found myself sprawled on the original training field.
Gojo grinned down at me, effortlessly holding out a water bottle like he hadn't just been watching me get fried like a bug in a zapper. "You lasted longer than last time."
"Hope so." I snatched the water and sat up, gulping down half of it in one go.
"Sooo," I asked, still catching my breath. "Let me guess. Next part is more running?"
Gojo gasped dramatically. "You say that like you don't love my training. But no, today's a short day."
I blinked. "Wait… why?"
"You've got a visitor."
"Oh..." I waved my hand and said goodbye to the sensei.
No matter how hard it was here, there was no desire to return to my 'room'.