Riku's eyes cracked open slowly. His body ached like hell—muscles stiff, bones groaning in protest—but there wasn't a single scratch on him.
No gashes. No bruises. No broken ribs. Not even a paper cut.
He sat up in bed with a groggy grunt. "Okay… that's definitely not normal."
[You have one reward draw available for defeating a significantly stronger opponent. Drop rate for higher-tier rewards temporarily increased.]
[Daily Draw is unaffected.]
Riku rubbed his eyes. "Huh. That actually sounds fair. That fucker was a challenge."
He flopped back onto the bed and held his hand up. "Alright, hit me."
[Drawing Reward…]
[Congratulations! You have acquired: Armament Haki (One Piece - Skill)]
[Congratulations! You have acquired: 5x Senzu Beans (Dragon Ball - Item)!]
He blinked. "Yo. Wait. Yo."
He sat up again, wide awake now. "ARMAMENT HAKI?!"
[Armament Haki allows users to utilize their spiritual energy to create invisible armor. Enhances both offense and defense significantly.]
[Senzu Beans]: A miraculous bean from the Dragon Ball universe. Fully restores health, stamina, and energy upon consumption. Can heal near-fatal injuries in seconds. One bean equals a full recovery—body and mind.
"Oh this is going to be stupid good. With this, I can tank more, hit harder, and maybe—just maybe—finally beat someone without being curb-stomped for ten minutes first."
He focused, channeling cursed energy into his hand and tried to will the Haki into existence. Slowly, he felt the pressure shift in his hand—like a warm weight had settled over it.
He looked at it. It still looked… normal.
"No black coating?"
He furrowed his brow.
"Oh, right. In the show, the black was just for us, the audience. In-world, it's invisible. Makes sense. Still… would've been cool to see it."
He clenched both fists and layered them with Haki. Then, just to test, he wrapped his body in cursed energy, stacking it all together.
'Layering cursed energy with Armament Haki might boost my training too… yeah, let's go.'
He hopped out of bed, got down on the floor, and got to work.
"One thousand push-ups. One thousand sit-ups. Two thousand jumping jacks. Let's fucking move."
Ten minutes in and he was drenched in sweat. Muscles were screaming. The floor had gained a suspicious amount of moisture.
"Holy hell… that's... not even halfway…"
But he pushed through. With every set, his body responded better. Stronger. Faster. A little more efficient. His Accelerated Development was kicking in hard.
When he finally finished, he collapsed on the ground, heaving. "God… damn… okay… okay that was good."
Then his brain caught up.
"Wait a second—why the hell wasn't I coating my body with cursed energy when I was training before?! That would've made everything easier! I'm such a dumbass!"
He rolled over and groaned. "No point crying over spilled brain cells."
He dragged himself to the bathroom, took a much-needed shower, then changed into a fresh T-shirt and shorts. On his way downstairs, he smelled… nothing.
No food.
He stepped into the kitchen and spotted his mom slumped on the couch, sipping tea.
"Where's breakfast?" he asked.
She groaned. "Too tired. You're on your own today."
"No problem. I'll cook."
There was a sudden silence.
His mom and dad both slowly turned their heads toward him like he'd just threatened to summon Satan in the living room.
His mom whispered, "Dear… the last time you tried to cook… you burned water. You burned water, Riku. It was boiling and then it was on fire. I had to call a priest."
Riku blinked. "Okay, yeah, that's bad… but trust me. I've been practicing."
He walked to the kitchen, cracked his knuckles, and whispered under his breath, "Let's see what Cooking Expert can do."
He moved with quiet focus. First, he rinsed the rice thoroughly, placed it in the cooker with perfect water balance, and set it to steam. Then came the miso soup—he prepped dashi stock, added tofu, seaweed, and gently stirred it to life. Grilled fish followed: seasoned with salt and mirin, seared to golden perfection.
He rolled Tamagoyaki with practiced swiftness—fold, flip, fold, flip. Sweet and savory.
He even tackled natto and tsukemono, arranging them artfully on small dishes. Finally, he shaped Onigiri by hand, filling them with pickled plum and wrapping each in seaweed like a pro.
The kitchen smelled like a Japanese morning dream.
When he finished plating, he set the table.
His parents sat there like NPCs whose AI had just crashed.
His mom blinked and pinched herself. "I'm not dreaming… my son… cooked."
His dad leaned forward, took a bite, and groaned in bliss. "This is better than your mom's."
His mom's eyes twitched. Her foot shot under the table and nailed his dad in the shin.
"Really now?" she said, smiling with all the warmth of a serial killer. "Maybe you'd like him to prepare all your dinners. Since he's better. Maybe he should do your laundry too. Or warm your bed, since he's so amazing."
His dad raised both hands. "Dear, I was just complimenting the boy! Please don't kill me."
Riku sat there silently, sipping soup.
'What the actual fuck is happening right now?'
After the most awkwardly delicious breakfast in the history of awkward breakfasts, Riku retreated upstairs to his room. He booted up his PC and checked his stock portfolio.
He blinked.
"Wait, wait, wait—yo."
His investments had ballooned. The modest couple thousand yen he tossed in earlier had grown fast. Fast enough to make his eyes widen.
He leaned back and let out a satisfied sigh.
"…Yeah. Everything's coming up Riku."
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So if you're wondering was this chapter was suppose to be out earlier but I got lazy and delayed it....yes, yes it I was playing Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (just started)