A few weeks passed without any major events, and that was exactly how Ryan wanted it.
Working with Minamoto and Chicken no longer required conscious effort. His hands knew what to do before his brain even finished the command. His everyday skills had reached a solid intermediate level, and that was the sign he'd been waiting for.
It was time to take the next step.
If he wanted more than just surviving, he had to start pushing his body for real.
For that, he needed a place far from curious village eyes, and Dawn Island had plenty of those. The local forests were home to animals dangerous to ordinary people, which made them perfect.
Ryan chose a secluded stretch away from the village, where trees grew close together, low branches tangled overhead, and thick roots broke through the uneven ground. The terrain would be his greatest ally in this new phase.
He took a deep breath, bent his legs, and ran.
The goal wasn't sustained speed; it was explosive bursts. To his surprise, the change came fast. Sometimes he felt his body launch forward harder than it should.
Satisfied with the first drill, he stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees.
"It's still not right… even when my steps are faster than normal," Ryan muttered, analyzing his form. "Yeah, without an instructor or a manual, this is going to be way harder."
He was nowhere near the Soru that made people vanish like in the anime, but every attempt was better than the last. He just needed more time and a lot more practice.
Next came the opposite approach.
Standing still in a horse stance he'd learned as a kid in his previous life while training karate, Ryan tossed a thick branch straight up and didn't move.
The branch slammed into his shoulder, and he locked his body at the exact moment of impact. It hurt more than he expected, but some of the force was dispersed, making the branch bounce and fall to the ground.
"Ow…" Ryan muttered, rubbing his shoulder.
The first attempts left purple bruises all over his body. Over time, the pain dulled, and he learned when to tense up and when to give. Tekkai was one of the most important techniques in Ryan's mind; it could be the gateway to Armament Haki.
After that, weaker tree trunks became his worst enemies, and so did his fingers.
Striking trunks with his fingers hurt like hell. He wouldn't recommend it to anyone, but that was the price of strength.
Days passed, and his training slowly settled into a more manageable routine. He didn't want to train everything at once. The plan was to hit certain milestones, then rotate focus to other techniques.
Thanks to his cheat, he didn't have to worry about getting rusty. Training the same thing every single day wasn't strictly necessary.
Kami-e training was, without question, the most frustrating.
Getting smacked in the forehead by a rock hurt like a bastard, and unfortunately it didn't stop there. His next victims were his own shoulder, then his chest.
Still, little by little, things improved. He stopped thinking and started dodging on instinct. It was slow, with razor-thin margins; sometimes the rocks grazed him, but it was progress.
Rankyaku… Ryan didn't like talking about that.
So many kicks that his legs turned into jelly, and the results were awful. Sometimes the leaves on the ground shifted. Once, he swore he saw a candle flame flicker for a second.
"I hate this. How the hell do Marines train for this crap?" Ryan said through clenched teeth.
By the end of the day, he managed to blow out a candle and move a leaf just a tiny bit, but the distance was laughably short.
Time kept moving, and little by little, he hit his goals. That gave him more breathing room to keep up his village work and start attempting Geppo.
Once again, the insane grind took over his days.
If anyone wandered into that part of the forest, they'd definitely freak out seeing a kid climbing tall trees and jumping off, desperately trying to step on air.
The falls kept coming until they turned into a jolt. Then, finally, he felt it: an extra push in midair, enough to change direction.
"Yes! I'm starting to get it now," Ryan said, lying on the forest floor, staring up at the sky through the branches.
Mastering Rokushiki could open a lot of doors in the near future. He didn't expect to become a master within a year, even with the Essence. His real goal was to beat Rob Lucci's record before turning thirteen.
"Ugh… And after all that, there's still Rokuogan. Damn it," Ryan complained. "My life is stupidly busy."
As always, Ryan was covered in dirt and sore all over. He wasn't sure what was worse: listening to Aoi complain about his clothes or continuing to hide the injuries all over his body.
"Well, there's nothing to do about it. Guess I just keep training," Ryan muttered, standing up and grabbing his things. "Tomorrow's a new day and more training… ugh, screw it. I'm hitting the river for an ice-cold bath before going home."
Some villagers had already noticed Ryan disappearing into the forest and coming back filthy, sometimes limping. For now, no one said anything, assuming he was just playing around.
Ryan noticed the attention too, and that could be bad for his training.
His carelessness with his appearance came straight from his previous life, and thankfully he realized it early. It was a bad habit he needed to break as soon as possible.