Nami was skeptical, but she followed his instructions anyway.
She tightly gripped the cool golden handle in her left hand—it fit her palm unexpectedly well. With her right hand, she awkwardly wrapped the roughly two-meter-long golden chain around her wrist and palm, looping it layer by layer.
The moment she completed the motion—
A sudden change erupted!
The golden handle and chain in her hands instantly turned scorching hot.
Not the kind of heat that burned the skin—
But a warmth that seemed to penetrate straight into the depths of her soul.
Immediately after, a vast and complex stream of information surged violently into her mind, accompanied by countless clear images of movements, breathing rhythms, and insights into the flow of power—
Like a bursting dam, it flooded her consciousness!
"Ah!"
Nami let out a short cry, her entire body freezing in place.
Her eyes lost focus, her pupils slightly dilated, as if her soul had left her body.
Her body trembled faintly—
Not from fear, but from the overwhelming impact of the information.
Renji Kuro stood quietly to the side, watching.
The system had already informed him—
The "inheritance" contained within this weapon component had been activated.
This inheritance—
Was called the Eight Extremes Art.
It was a supreme combat technique originating from another world.
Not merely a collection of moves—
But a complete cultivation system, fused with a unique philosophical framework.
At its core lay eight so-called "extreme realms," corresponding to the eight trigrams, representing eight distinct yet complementary methods of pushing the body to its limits.
The inheritance surged through Nami's consciousness.
The first form—refining pure physical strength and explosive power.
The second—pursuing absolute speed and agility.
The third—forging an unbreakable physical defense.
The fourth—tempering endurance and willpower beyond limits.
The fifth—developing precise perception and insight.
The sixth—sharpening neural reflexes and combat instinct.
The seventh—awakening bodily potential, greatly enhancing self-healing, even allowing temporary bursts of power at the cost of injury.
The eighth—touching on deeper potential release, linked to ultimate power at the brink of death…
These weren't dry descriptions.
They were infused with intense intent and instinctive bodily memory.
In an instant, it was as if Nami had undergone countless sessions of training, combat, and breaking past her limits.
What shook her even more—
Deep within the core of the inheritance—
She faintly "saw" a figure.
A blurred silhouette.
Someone carrying a heavy past, fighting with that golden chain for the sake of promises and conviction.
That loneliness.
That resilience.
Bearing infamy, yet still moving forward.
It resonated deeply with her own years of enduring humiliation, struggling alone for the sake of her village and her freedom.
Unknowingly—
Two lines of tears slid down from her unfocused eyes, tracing along her dust-streaked cheeks.
They weren't tears of sorrow—
But something more complex.
A release born from being understood…
From being touched…
From glimpsing a kindred light in a long, hopeless night.
The inheritance felt both long—
And like a fleeting instant.
Suddenly, Nami's body trembled.
Her scattered gaze refocused, clarity returning.
She gasped for breath, as if she had just undergone an incredibly grueling training session. Fine beads of sweat formed on her forehead.
But her eyes—
Were completely different now.
Less cunning.
Less deliberately deceptive.
Instead, they carried shock, understanding—
And an indescribable sharpness.
Slowly, she lowered her head, looking at the golden handle in her left hand and the chain wrapped around her right.
A strange sense of familiarity rose within her—
As if it were connected to her very blood.
With a slight thought—
She flicked her right hand.
Swish!
The wrapped golden chain snapped outward as if alive, straightening instantly before curling back fluidly.
The entire motion was seamless—
As though she had practiced it thousands of times.
"This… this is…"
Nami's voice trembled, dry and filled with disbelief.
She could clearly feel it—
Her mind now held a complete and profound system of cultivation and combat philosophy.
Those methods of refining strength, speed, defense, and will—
Though she had yet to even reach the threshold—
Their depth and potential alone made her heart tremble.
She couldn't help but recall how, in order to protect herself and complete her missions, she had secretly observed—and even imitated—the Fish-Man Karate used by the fish-men of the Arlong Pirates.
Back then, she had thought it was already an impressive combat technique.
But now—
Compared to the Eight Extremes Art in her mind—
Fish-Man Karate felt crude and primitive.
The gap was like a stream compared to an ocean.
What came out of this can—
Wasn't just metal.
Nor a mere weapon fragment.
It was true power.
A path to becoming stronger.
She suddenly lifted her head, looking at Renji Kuro—
Her gaze completely changed.
The suspicion, caution, and scheming from before—
Had mostly been replaced by shock, gratitude—
And a rekindled, burning hope.
This mysterious can merchant—
Hadn't lied to her.
The Gold Can truly contained opportunities beyond her imagination.
The value of just this one can—
Had already far exceeded her expectations for that strange fruit she traded.
"Looks like you got something good."
Renji Kuro smiled slightly, having already guessed the result from her expression and the change in her aura.
Nami nodded vigorously, wiping away the tears on her face.
Her eyes burned with excitement as she turned eagerly toward the remaining two Gold Cans.
For the first time—
She was filled with unprecedented anticipation for what lay inside.
"Let's open the next one."