---
The morning had begun to seep across the wet walkways of Water Seven, and the city was moving as usual… waters flowing, hammers pounding, and the air carrying the scent of wood and oils. Luca stood at the edge of a narrow canal, watching a small boat glide over the water before exhaling slowly.
Two whole months…
Sixty days with no travel, no adventure, no real purpose except waiting for his ship, which was still nothing more than blueprints on Iceburg's desk.
He tapped his fingers against the wooden railing, playing idly with a thin thread of sparks slipping between them.
"And what am I supposed to do with all this time…?" he muttered, voice layered with boredom and aimlessness.
He wasn't ready to return to the sky…
Nor did he want to wander around pointlessly.
The new city was wide, lively… but not enough to fill the void of waiting.
He lifted his head toward the noise of the shipyards above, then toward the water-alleys below.
He suddenly remembered Iceburg's secretary and the way she looked at him.
I could get close to her… spend these two months with her.
But…
As soon as he thought deeply about it, his jaw tightened and he frowned.
If he allowed himself to sink into that now, he'd get used to it.
Maybe get comfortable.
Maybe lose the drive pushing him forward.
"No… that's the easy path. I've had enough fun on the Hot Springs Island and at the nude beach. Now it's time to get serious," he muttered quietly.
He turned his back on the noise and laughter.
Lifted his eyes toward the wide sky, as if reclaiming himself.
"I'll spend the next two months training…" he said, voice firm.
"Improving my body as much as I possibly can in these two months."
The words alone were enough to reignite the fire inside him—like a faint spark returning to fuel a roaring blaze. He extended his hand slightly, the air quivering around his fingers from the tension of electricity, then closed his eyes for a moment.
"Real training… isn't child's play."
He raised his head and walked steadily toward the Galley-La building.
The corridors were crowded, carpenters rushing between workshops carrying planks and hammers, but Luca didn't glance at any of them. He climbed the stone stairs until he reached the floor with Iceburg's office.
He knocked and entered without waiting long.
Iceburg lifted his head from behind a pile of papers, eyebrows rising slightly in mild surprise.
"Luca? I wasn't expecting you now. Did you forget something about the ship?"
Luca shook his head. "Not that. I need something else… something important for my training."
Iceburg leaned back, eyeing him with cautious curiosity.
"And what is it?"
Luca inhaled deeply, then said without blinking:
"I want seastone cuffs."
Silence fell for several seconds.
A worker passing behind the door paused before continuing on.
Iceburg stared at Luca for a long moment, as if trying to figure out whether he was joking.
"Seastone…?"
He said it slowly.
"That's not something easy to handle. You're a Devil Fruit user, right?"
Luca nodded. "Which is why I need them. I want to train under heavy restraints."
Iceburg sighed and rubbed his face.
"We have a few small pieces we use to restrain dangerous pirates until the government arrives… not full sets, just cuffs to transport them safely."
Luca stepped closer.
"Can I borrow them? I swear I'll return them exactly as they are."
"…Fine." Iceburg said at last. "But be careful… these cuffs will drain your power completely. You'll feel like just a human… no, even weaker."
Luca smiled faintly.
"That's exactly what I want."
Minutes later, he was standing outside the building holding the heavy seastone cuffs.
They felt like a cold piece of death… touching them made his hand shiver.
"Perfect…" he murmured, almost welcoming the uncomfortable sensation.
---
Luca headed to the outskirts of Water Seven, where a massive yard was used to dispose of old ships—shattered wood, half-sunken frames, ships ruined by waves or time. The place was damp, filled with the smell of salt and rust, and the sound of water striking abandoned timbers.
He stopped at the edge of the yard, staring at the dozens of old ship hulls stacked atop each other like a floating graveyard.
As he looked at them… he remembered an old image from the original story.
Garp…
The Hero of the Marines…
He remembered that scene… Garp punching massive battleships with his bare fists, later imitated by the current admiral Aokiji and future marine hero Coby.
Luca smirked.
"Why not…? If this method created a monster like Garp… then it suits me."
He sat down, placed the cuffs around his wrists…
And the moment they clicked shut:
Whoooooof—
His body nearly collapsed.
His lightning vanished as if it had never existed, and his strength drained sharply.
A heavy pressure slammed into his chest, and his knees bent slightly.
"Damn… not a joke." he muttered through clenched teeth.
He stood with difficulty and approached the nearest abandoned ship—a massive hull five meters tall.
He raised his fist.
"No problem… a normal punch will do."
He inhaled, then struck.
BOOOF!
His fist recoiled, pain burning up from his knuckles to his shoulder.
"Ouch… that hurts more than I expected."
He looked at the hull. Just a tiny scratch.
He closed his eyes, exhaled, braced his stance.
"Again…"
He punched.
Then again.
And again.
Pain built up, arms trembling, the seastone draining even his ability to stand.
But with each strike… the scratch grew.
One…
Two…
Twenty…
Fifty…
Then the wood began to crack.
Luca shouted, hitting with every ounce of strength remaining:
"Hyaaaaaaaah!!"
The hull shattered.
Wood exploded into the air, and Luca collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, sweat pouring down his face like he'd survived a real battle.
And yet…
He smiled.
He felt sharp pain… but he also felt something else:
A real strength forming in his muscles—strength not relying on lightning or telekinesis… just raw power.
He rose slowly and looked at the dozens of other hulls.
"Alright…"
he said, lifting his shaking fist.
"Let's begin the hell."
And with his first step toward the next ship, he looked like a warrior preparing for a battle he didn't want to win… but to lose a thousand times to grow a thousand times stronger.
And so…
the most brutal training days of Luca's life began.
---
The first days crawled by painfully slow, as if time itself was testing Luca's resolve.
Every day he woke with the cuffs on his wrists, their weight pressing onto him like a boulder… then the hell began.
In the first week, his knuckles were literally splitting open.
Cracked skin, swollen joints, arms too tired to lift after dozens of strikes.
But…
Every time he fell, he rose again, exhaled the pain, and punched.
As time passed, the yard changed.
The abandoned ships piled up had turned into mountains of crushed wood.
Broken planks, scattered shards, massive holes Luca carved with his fists alone.
The place looked like it had been attacked by a wild beast… or a full artillery squad.
But the truth was:
Just one beast…
A sixteen-year-old boy.
---
Weeks Three & Four
Luca's fists began to harden.
A tough layer of skin formed over his knuckles, and the muscles of his forearms tightened like rope.
Each day, a scratch turned into a crack…
A crack into a dent…
A dent into a cavity big enough to collapse half a ship.
He punched slowly but steadily.
As if the goal wasn't to destroy the ship… but to destroy his own weakness.
On days when the pain was so intense he couldn't lift his fist…
He sat among the wreckage, lifting a massive stone with one hand, repeating the motion hundreds of times.
---
End of the First Month
The cuffs had become… his silent companions.
Their weight no longer crushed him like before. The weakness remained, but faint—now all they did was suppress his Devil Fruit power.
His body had begun compensating for what the cuffs drained.
By then, the yard had completely changed:
Ships had disappeared entirely, reduced to rubble.
The ground drowned in shards of wood and the smell of resin.
Huge gaps marked places where ships once stood.
Half-sized hulls showed where his punches had eaten through them day after day.
Workers nearby whispered about him…
"The new monster…"
"The lunatic smashing ships with his bare hands…"
But none dared get close.
Luca didn't care.
His shoulders broadened, punches deepened, his breaths grew longer.
He began running across the yard dragging a small ship behind him.
Jumping atop broken hulls and smashing down with his fist.
---
The Second Month
At the start of month two…
His previously athletic body had hardened.
Muscles clearer than ever.
Chest wider, shoulders sturdier, forearms like iron.
And his eyes…
They held the gleam of someone who'd seen himself break a thousand times… and rise a thousand more.
In the final week…
The yard itself started to run out.
Only a few ships remained to be destroyed.
Most had vanished under his fists.
---
End of the Two Months
On a grey morning, Luca stood atop the last ship hull, dripping sweat, panting after a final strike that turned the wooden wall into dust.
He sat on the pile of shattered wood, chest heaving, sweat running down his face.
Slowly, he raised his hands toward the cuffs. They were cold, harsh, heavy in a way he had come to find almost comforting.
He pulled the key from his pocket and—
Click.
They opened.
For a brief moment… nothing.
Then the wave hit.
Lightning exploded from within him like a beast suffocated for two whole months, his body inhaling power for the first time in ages. Warm energy surged from his core, flooding his veins and restoring the true weight of his strength.
A faint glow shimmered over his skin, and his eyes flashed with wild electric blue.
"Ha…"
He laughed quietly, rolling his wrists—darker, tougher than before.
"I missed this."
It felt like removing a stone that had been crushing him… or like the air itself had become lighter.
His muscles, working at half-power for months, now burst with full force.
He stood slowly, breath deepening as the world grew sharper around him.
For a moment… he felt closer than ever to the monsters he admired.
As he gathered his breath…
He heard fast footsteps.
He turned to find a Galley-La worker running across the ruins, nearly tripping over the scattered wood.
The man stopped in front of him, panting:
"Luca… sir! I've been looking for you…"
Luca raised a brow. "What is it?"
The worker smiled despite the exhaustion:
"The ship… your new ship…
It's ready.
Iceburg requests your presence for the official handover."
Luca's heart paused for a moment.
Then… a slow, satisfied smile formed.
"Alright…"
he said as he stood, balling the fists shaped by two months of hell.
"Let's go."
---
Luca arrived at the quiet dock reserved for newly built ships, his steps carrying the weight of two months of training.
The sun above Water Seven glimmered over the water, casting golden lines across the waves… but Luca's eyes were fixed on one thing only.
The ship.
It rested there…
Calm. Elegant.
As if crafted from another world.
Luca stopped in his tracks, eyes widening.
It was about the size of Luffy's ship—not huge, but not small either.
Its wooden hull was dark brown with a reddish tone, polished to a gleaming shine.
The bow was carved into the head of a simple mythical bird—not overly ornate, but with a quiet touch of grandeur.
The sails were large and pure white, without symbols… waiting for a new flag.
And because of Luca's request…
There was not a single cannon.
Not even an opening for one.
A peaceful-looking ship…
But its structure revealed strength beneath the elegance.
Iceburg stood beside it, hands on his hips with clear pride.
"Here it is… the ship."
Luca inhaled deeply…
He rarely showed awe, but a faint smile crept onto his face.
"It's… incredible."
he said without hesitation.
Iceburg chuckled.
"Wait until you see the inside."
They climbed the wooden ladder. Luca felt the ship's stability beneath his feet, like a single solid piece—barely swaying despite the waves.
A sign of flawless construction.
Iceburg opened the main door and gestured for him to enter.
---
Inside – the luxury Luca requested
When Luca entered… he literally stopped.
The interior wood was of a premium type, lighter than the exterior, with subtle golden lines carved with precision.
The floor was smooth and polished, and the walls reflected soft light through carefully placed glass panels.
"As you requested… maximum comfort," Iceburg said.
He guided Luca down the main hallway.
---
1. The Master Bedroom
Iceburg opened a wide door.
Inside was a large bed—bigger than what should normally fit on a ship this size—soft pillows, and a luxurious blanket.
Shelves lined one wall, with a built-in wardrobe, and a circular window directly overlooking the sea.
"Even during storms… this room barely moves," Iceburg stated confidently.
Luca touched the bed.
He liked the softness.
---
2. The Relaxation Room / Lounge
The next room was larger than expected.
A long couch fixed to the wall, a small table surrounded by two armchairs, and a secured light carpet.
The window was panoramic—a half-curved arc overlooking the sea.
"You wanted comfort… this is the best lounge a ship of this size can have."
Luca smiled faintly.
"Exactly what I wanted…"
---
3. The Private Bathroom
Iceburg opened a smaller room…
And what was inside made Luca raise an eyebrow.
A fixed small bathtub, a polished metal sink, and even a simple water-heating system using a sun-warmed metal plate.
Plus a small sauna.
Luca let out a short laugh.
"This… is more than I expected from a ship."
"I told you—
we'd make it the best possible within the size limits."
Iceburg replied proudly.
---
4. The Storage Room
Extremely organized.
Wooden shelves, a place for ropes, a large locked chest for valuables, and an open area perfect for Luca's telekinetic use.
---
5. The Deck
When they returned outside, Luca hopped onto the deck, walking slowly.
It was wide, perfect for training or combat, without any cannons or heavy equipment.
"We built it to be light and fast. This ship won't win a naval battle… but it'll outrun and outmaneuver most ships out there."
Luca placed his hand on the mast, feeling the sturdy wood.
"Excellent."
Iceburg lifted his chin.
"Tell me if you want a name engraved; we can carve it on the bow."
Luca stood at the center of the ship, observing it from every angle…
Two months of hell, and this was the reward.
He walked to the bow, running his hand along the polished wood before lifting his gaze to the massive white sails.
Pure… blank… waiting for a mark.
He pointed at the sails.
"I want my name on them.
Luka… in dark black."
Iceburg smiled lightly, signaling to the workers on the dock.
"Men! Bring the black paint… and write the name on the sail exactly as he asked."
The workers climbed quickly using ropes and ladders, beginning to paint the letters in bold strokes covering half the sail's surface.
The brush danced across the canvas, black ink flowing slowly…