The next morning, Ethan woke up feeling different. As he climbed down from his makeshift platform in the tree, a strange energy pulsed through his body. The exhaustion and weakness that had plagued him the day before were gone, replaced by a lightness that made every movement feel effortless.
Instinctively, he examined himself, scanning for any noticeable changes—and there were plenty.
His once dull, unkempt black hair now felt smoother, reflecting the morning light with an unusual sheen. His dark, sharp eyes carried an intensity that made him look nothing like the starved, desperate survivor he had been just a day before.
The most drastic change, however, was his body. Where Ethan's limbs had once been thin and frail, they were now lined with lean muscle instead. His skin had regained a healthy tone, no longer stretched tightly over his bones. His face, once gaunt from starvation, had filled out slightly, giving him a sharper, more defined appearance.
Even his height had changed. After a quick measurement, Ethan realized that he had grown by ten centimeters.
His clothes, already loose from malnutrition, now felt even baggier, making his transformation all the more noticeable.
Before, Ethan's small frame had made him look more like a goblin than a person. Now, while still short, he at least resembled a child—one hardened by struggle rather than weakened by it.
But that didn't concern him. Ethan had never cared about how others perceived him. Strength wasn't about size or appearance—it was about survival. And if there was one thing he understood well, it was that survival belonged to those who could adapt.
His transformation only confirmed what he already believed: he was changing, evolving, and ready to face whatever this world threw at him.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Ethan calmly spoke to the air. "Heavenly Gate, show me my status window."
A mechanical voice immediately responded in his mind, its tone flat and emotionless.
[Processing participant Ethan Cross's request. Request granted. Status window opening in 3…2…1…]
———
[Name: Ethan Cross]
[True Name: —]
[Age: 45]
[Race: Evolved Human]
[Unique Powers: Evolved Organism, Low-Level Haki Affinity]
[Unique Items: —]
[Missions: —]
[Description of Low-Level Haki Affinity: Every living being in this world possesses the innate ability to wield the energy known as Haki. By consuming a creature from this world, you have assimilated its abilities, granting you access to Haki—though only at a very basic level.]
———
Glancing at his status window, Ethan took a moment to recall whether he had ever heard of Haki's power.
The word triggered fragmented memories from his previous life, causing them to replay in his fractured mind.
Minutes passed as the sun's rays continued to warm his skin until, suddenly, a moment of clarity brought Ethan back to his senses.
An amused chuckle escaped his lips as he muttered, "So, I've been sent to the One Piece world by the Heavenly Gate. A world of giant sea leviathans, people who gain superpowers by eating disgusting fruits, and a place filled with randomness and danger. A world where I can just as easily die as I can succeed."
A glimmer of madness flickered in Ethan's deep black eyes. The days he had spent on the island had begun to heal the edges of his maddened mind, allowing him to display emotions that truly reflected his shattered psyche.
After all, with everything that Ethan had been through, his attempts to express normal emotions were more like an intelligent machine imitating them by observing human reactions.
"In a world like One Piece, where everyone shouts their dreams and ambitions, I'm just a fractured madman trying to survive. And that's alright by me. After all, genius and madness go hand in hand."
With a smirk, he added, "Anyway, I've yapped enough. Time to hunt for food."
———
Ethan moved through the dense forest with purpose, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings as his stomach growled in protest—after all, he hadn't eaten since yesterday.
Having traveled through the forest the day before, Ethan had already become accustomed to its rhythm and flow. He was now armed with the knowledge of the various creatures' territories within it.
As he moved forward, there was no fear or desperation in his expression—only a focused drive to find his next meal.
Ethan's gaze shifted as he noticed movement in the underbrush—something large stirring among the leaves. Sunlight filtered through the trees in scattered rays, casting dappled light across the ground.
There, coiled in the shadows, lay a massive ten-foot-long anaconda. It moved slowly and methodically, searching for prey, completely unaware of Ethan's presence.
Its tongue flicked in and out of its massive mouth as it tasted the air.
Seeing this, Ethan's lips curled into a small, manic smile. This was exactly what he had been looking for—something to test his newly improved body and, more importantly, something to eat.
He crouched low, his muscles tensing in preparation. He had no intention of acting recklessly. A mistake here could cost him his life.
The anaconda was powerful—strong enough to crush him if he let it. But Ethan was a hunter, and to him, this was just another animal to outsmart.
The anaconda's head rose from the underbrush, its eyes gleaming as it surveyed its surroundings. It had yet to detect Ethan, giving him the advantage.
Ethan moved swiftly but silently, positioning himself a few meters away, his sturdy stick gripped tightly in his hands.
When the moment was right, he lunged forward, swinging the stick with precision toward the anaconda's head. The snake hissed loudly, reacting faster than he had anticipated.
In the blink of an eye, it struck, its massive jaws opening wide, and before Ethan could fully evade, its large fangs sank into his left arm.
The pain was sharp and immediate, but Ethan didn't flinch. He had been through worse. The wound throbbed and bled, but Ethan's focus remained unchanged.
Seeing an opportunity, Ethan retaliated, swinging his stick at the anaconda's head, aiming for its skull.
The blow landed hard, causing the snake to writhe in pain, its body twisting violently as it tried to coil around him. But this time, Ethan was ready. He sidestepped its attack, his movements sharp and controlled.
A flurry of blows followed as he relentlessly struck the snake's head, his stick never wavering, his strength seemingly unending.
The anaconda thrashed, its desperate attempts to bite him growing more frantic, but Ethan's breath remained steady as he dodged repeatedly.
For him, this was nothing more than a battle for dominance—a struggle where the stronger creature would devour the weaker one.
Finally, the anaconda gave one last convulsion, its muscles relaxing as it collapsed lifelessly onto the forest floor.
Ethan exhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling from the exertion. But there was no sense of relief or triumph in his mind.
For Ethan, this battle was merely another step in the process—one creature defeated, one step closer to his goal.
His arm burned from the wound, but he barely acknowledged it. He had endured worse, and a minor injury like this would heal in a few weeks.
Kneeling beside the snake, Ethan studied its massive form for a moment before methodically skinning the animal.
There was no hurry, no panic in Ethan's movements. He had done this process countless times before—after all, he knew the meat was necessary fuel for his journey.
He had entered this fight with two objectives: the first was to find food, and the second was to test the limits of his new body. Now that he had achieved both, the hunt was successfully over.
After skinning the snake, Ethan tore into its flesh. As he ate, the sharp, insistent hunger that had gnawed at him all day slowly faded. His movements were deliberate and efficient. Unlike the day before, when he had fought the crocodile, there was no rush. He could take his time.
By the time Ethan finished eating, nothing remained of the anaconda but its bones. Wiping his hands on the ground, Ethan stood up, stretching his limbs.
His hunt was complete, and it was now time for Ethan to return to his treehouse and rest.
With a steady pace, Ethan traveled through the jungle's rugged terrain, his face betraying neither emotion nor hesitation.
In his mind, Ethan was simply a hunter, and the forest was his domain.