Running on the treadmill, Gale couldn't help but marvel at how something so primitive looking could work exactly like the ones from his past life. It was entirely made of wood, with only a few crucial parts crafted from metal, but it was a treadmill nonetheless.
And it wasn't just the treadmill. All around him, the training space was filled with all manner of equipment—crafted from scraps, yet functioning as well as anything he'd seen before. Weighted logs, pulley systems, and even a crude but effective squat rack lined the area, all constructed with an almost absurd level of craftsmanship.
Two months ago, when Kiwanu had casually mentioned that he'd have a training space built, Gale thought the old man was pulling his leg. But sure enough, it was finished in just a week. The eccentric scientist clearly held a high position among the people of Torino Island, though Gale still wasn't sure what exactly that position was.
Either way, the past two months had been… grueling.
The first month was spent exactly as Gale had jokingly anticipated—running. A lot of running. Laps across the island, through thick jungle terrain, up steep hills, and across the beach. Whenever his legs gave out, Kiwanu would simply have him switch to other exercises, ensuring that something was always being worked.
And the results? Well, they were insane.
Gale had already noticed that the human body in this world was built different—but even then, the progress he made in just a month was shocking. Back in his former world, it would've taken years to develop stamina like this. Here? One month. Just one.
Then again, it might not have been something related to the world itself, but rather the body Gale now inhabited.
Still, as Gale's stamina grew, so did his workload.
The second month introduced strength training on top of his regular endurance exercises. Kiwanu designed an entire regimen meant to strengthen his arms, legs, and core. Each exercise was specific—some downright bizarre—targeting individual muscles with almost obsessive precision.
It was like the elderly scientist was a fitness trainer specializing in some niche sport that no one had ever heard of.
Still, the results were undeniable. Even though his stamina gains slowed after the first month, his strength, speed, and everything in between skyrocketed. He had no way to prove it, but he was starting to wonder if he could compete with Olympic athletes now, heck, he might even downright crush them.
Yet, despite his rapid progress, something baffled Gale—his body hadn't visibly changed.
His muscles were stronger, but they hadn't grown. He expected to bulk up at least a little, but aside from a leaner, more defined frame, he still looked roughly the same.
There was another thing that confused him—Kiwanu forbade him from practicing his Devil Fruit powers.
When he asked why, the elderly scientist explained that he needed to build his foundation first. "A Devil Fruit may give you power, but that power shines when wielded by someone with a strong body," Kiwanu had said.
Then, the old man went on a long-winded tirade about how muscles become denser the stronger they get. Since Gale's ability allowed him to manipulate density, a naturally stronger body meant an even greater potential for his Devil Fruit powers.
It actually made a lot of sense.
But Gale still stopped listening halfway through.
Kiwanu had a tendency to babble, after all.
Gale exhaled, wiping sweat from his forehead as he slowed to a stop.
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear..."
Kiwanu was approaching.
Behind him, one of the villagers pushed a wooden stand covered by a white cloth, its shape indistinct beneath the fabric. Gale frowned, watching the peculiar scene unfold. Kiwanu, as always, had his usual shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
Gale narrowed his eyes, alternating his gaze between the scientist and the mystery stand.
"What's this now?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Some new torture device you wanna try on me?"
Kiwanu shook his head firmly, his expression unusually serious. "No. It's a choice you must make… a very important one."
With a dramatic flourish, the old man stepped aside, bowing deeply as he gestured toward the covered stand.
Nothing happened.
A long, awkward silence stretched between them.
Kiwanu slowly straightened, clearing his throat. His eyes flicked toward the villager, who stood still, blinking at him with a blank expression.
The scientist let out a sigh. "That was your cue to remove the cloth, you imbecile."
The villager scratched his head. "You should've just said so."
Kiwanu looked personally offended. "That would have ruined the presentation! Youngsters these days have no flare for the—" He cut himself off, suddenly waving his hands dismissively. "Forget it. Just go already."
The villager shrugged, then turned and walked away, leaving Kiwanu grumbling to himself as he turned back to Gale.
The younger man sighed. "Alright... so what's under the cloth?"
Gale stared at the assortment of weapons, rubbing the back of his neck.
"So let me get this straight," he muttered. "You're telling me I should pick one of these medieval torture devices and make it my weapon of choice?"
Kiwanu nodded, his smirk widening. "Exactly."
Gale sighed again, glancing over the weapons once more. A halberd, a flail, a mace, a massive spiked club—each more unwieldy than the last. The only remotely reasonable option was the rapier, and even that wasn't exactly what he had in mind.
"Does it have to be one of these?" Gale asked. "Can't I just pick something normal? Like a spear? A straight sword? Hell, even a katana?"
At that, Kiwanu gave him a look so full of disappointment it was almost offensive.
"Those are boring, mediocre choices," he huffed. "But that's not the point."
The elderly scientist cleared his throat before continuing, "Your ability allows you to manipulate an object's density, changing its weight without altering its size. Because of that, your choice of weapon should be obvious—" he gestured dramatically, "—either something very heavy or very light."
Gale frowned, mulling that over. It did make sense. If he chose a massive weapon, he could make it light enough to wield freely, then increase its weight mid-swing for devastating impact. If he chose a lighter weapon, he could make it even lighter for insane speed, or increase its density to make a thin blade strike with the force of a hammer.
It was an interesting concept that would enable him to emphasize the strengths of a weapon all the while eliminating its weaknesses.
Even so… he could pick a regular weapon and make super light or super heavy, not to mention none of these monstrosities matched his tastes.
"You really want me to pick from this collection of death traps, huh?" He muttered, clearly unconvinced.
Gale's reluctance was as clear as day, but Kiwanu merely grinned.
"Let me ask you this... what is the most used weapon in the world?"
Gale paused, considering the question before answering, "Probably the sword… a cutlass or a saber to be specific."
Kiwanu nodded along, neither confirming nor denying. Instead, he posed another question. "And why do you think that is?"
Gale let out a thoughtful hum. "Well, it's not too heavy or too light… it's versatile and easy to use, even if you didn't spend your entire life learning to wield it."
Kiwanu raised a brow. "If that's the criteria, wouldn't a spear be better? It's easier to use and even easier to master."
Gale shrugged. "I don't think it's as wieldy as a sword. It could be better depending on the situation, but in most cases, the sword is better."
Kiwanu smirked. "That logic is sound, but again, if the criteria is ease of use and usefulness in most situations… wouldn't a big club be even better?" His grin widened. "It's the easiest weapon to use by far, and it works anywhere."
Gale scoffed. "Yeah, if you can actually swing the damn thing. A club that big is even more unwieldy than a spear. It's heavy, slow, and has crap reach."
Kiwanu snapped his fingers. "That's right! But that doesn't apply to you." He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Your ability lets you change an object's weight at will. You could swing a giant club like a twig and then make it as heavy as a cannonball right before impact. Or take a light weapon and make it hit like a ton of bricks. So logically, shouldn't you pick a weapon that works best with your Devil Fruit ability?"
Gale opened his mouth to argue but hesitated. He hated to admit it, but the old man had a point.
Kiwanu, sensing his advantage, pressed on. "Even if that wasn't the case, why be boring? Why go with the flow just because it's what everyone else does? You have a unique power, so make a unique choice. Stand out! Be interesting!"
Gale let out a long, drawn-out sigh. He really should've seen this coming.
The old man definitely had a way with words.
Gale sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine." His reluctance was obvious, but he couldn't even think of a decent counterargument.
Kiwanu's grin stretched wider, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. With a dramatic flourish, he gestured toward the weapon stand. "Go on then, make your choice!"
Gale turned his attention to the weapons—and immediately scowled. Despite all of Kiwanu's grand talk, most of these weapons were massive. His eyes landed on the halberd, and he quickly shook his head. Just the idea of lugging around something that tall and almost broader than his build made for a ridiculous image he had no desire to associate himself with.
The oversized two-handed axe was an instant no for the same reason. Then there was the flail… yeah, no. He could already picture himself shattering his own ribs a dozen times before he even figured out how to swing it properly.
One by one, he ruled them out. The spiked club? Too unwieldy. The warhammer? Overkill.
Finally, his gaze settled on the rapier. Compared to the rest, it was downright modest. Sleek, elegant, and—most importantly—not something that would make him look completely ridiculous.
Sure, it lacked the range of the other weapons, but that was something he could work around. He hesitated for a moment before finally reaching out and gripping the hilt.
He turned to Kiwanu, lifting the rapier slightly. "I'll go with this one."
Kiwanu cocked an eyebrow, eyeing the choice with clear amusement. "Hah! So you do have a sense of aesthetics after all!"
Gale rolled his eyes. "No, I just don't want to walk around with a damned siege engine on my back..."
...
The sun hung high in the sky, its golden light casting long shadows as Gale stood with his newly chosen rapier, twirling it experimentally in his hand. The blade was light, nimble, and easy to maneuver—so much so that it almost felt too easy.
He barely had time to get used to the feeling before Kiwanu clapped his hands together, drawing his attention. "Alright, enough admiring yourself, boy. Time to actually learn how to use that thing."
Gale quirked a brow. "What, you're gonna teach me?"
The old scientist scoffed. "Hah! Do I look like a man who waves around toothpicks for sport? No, no, I've brought you someone far more suited for the job."
He stepped aside, revealing a figure who had been standing just behind him—a man with the distinct rotund, pear-shaped build of the Torino villagers. Despite his stout frame, he moved with a surprising lightness, his steps careful and precise.
His round face was framed by a neatly trimmed mustache, and his sharp, beady eyes locked onto Gale with a calculating gaze.
Kiwanu gestured toward him with a flourish. "This is Bartigo. Our people favor the rocket spear, but some inevitably develop… different tastes. This one, for instance, once learned the rapier from a pirate who visited our island long ago. He's no master swordsman, but he can teach you the basics, at the very least."
Gale studied Bartigo skeptically. "Him? With a rapier?"
The Torino man huffed, crossing his arms. "What? You think just because I don't look the part, I can't handle a blade?" He reached to his side and, with a swift motion, unsheathed a rapier of his own.
The blade gleamed as he gave it a few elegant flourishes, moving it with a dexterity that seemed completely at odds with his round frame. He finished the display with a sharp flick of his wrist, the tip of his blade stopping an inch from Gale's chest.
Gale blinked. "...Alright, fair enough."
Bartigo smirked and lowered his weapon. "You'll find that appearances can be deceiving, boy. Now, let's get started."
He stepped in front of Gale and tapped the ground with his foot. "First things first—the way you hold your sword and how you stand are the foundation of everything. If you get these wrong, you might as well be swinging a stick around."
Gale nodded, gripping his rapier a little tighter as he prepared for his first lesson.
...
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