One Piece: Shiro Oni

[You are overwhelmed with conviction.]

[Your Potential has begun to evolve.]

[Your Potential has reached its maximum limit.]

[Congratulations!]

[You have Awakened.]

[As a bonus for achieving Awakened rank SSS Potential, three new skills have been acquired.]

Gary froze in place as a shiver coursed down his spine. He turned, his eyes narrowing in disbelief as Noir's body moved. Slowly, painfully, but undeniably, Noir rose to his feet.

Blood continued to drip from every inch of his battered frame, his left arm hanging limp, his eye swollen shut and blinded. Yet the air around him had changed. It was no longer that of a desperate fighter clinging to survival—it was suffocating, primal, a force of raw power.

Gary clenched his fists. "What the hell is this?" he growled, his voice tinged with unease. "You should've died ten times over."

Noir didn't respond. His head hung low, and his shoulders trembled, though not from exhaustion. When he finally looked up, Gary's breath hitched. Noir's eyes, normally sharp and piercing, now glowed.

The Reverse Eyes or Ultra Instinct, a trait unique to the Yamazaki bloodline, was both a blessing and a curse. While some Yamazaki trained rigorously to unlock this power, others like Noir were born with it permanently active—a condition that came with devastating consequences.

Unlike those who awakened their Reverse Eyes through discipline, Noir's condition suppressed his body's full strength, restraining the violent instincts inherent to the Yamazaki bloodline. It acted as a limiter, taming the primal urges that would otherwise consume him.

However, if a Yamazaki lost control of the Reverse Eyes—whether by choice or circumstance—the results were catastrophic. The limiter shattered, and their true nature emerged: a berserker who fought without regard for their body, pain, or logic. They became an unrelenting beast, driven only by a singular instinct—to kill.

Gary's instincts screamed at him to run, but he was no coward. "I don't know what kind of trick this is," he snarled, tightening his grip on his gauntlets. "But I'll crush you all the same!"

With a roar, Gary charged, his spiked gauntlet aimed for Noir's chest.

Noir didn't move. Not until the last second.

In an instant, his hand lashed out, catching Gary's wrist mid-swing. Gary's eyes widened as he felt the raw, bone-crushing strength in Noir's grip. Before he could react, Noir twisted his arm and drove his knee into Gary's ribs.

The impact reverberated through Gary's entire body, forcing him to stagger back. But Noir didn't stop. He closed the distance in a blur, his movements more animalistic than human. His fists came down like hammers, relentless and precise.

Gary raised his gauntlets to block, but the sheer force of Noir's strikes pushed him back, his boots dragging through the sand. "What the hell is this strength?!" Gary roared, struggling to counter.

Noir didn't answer. He couldn't—he wasn't conscious enough to form words. His body moved on pure instinct, every strike calculated for maximum damage.

Gary found an opening and swung his gauntlet upward, the spikes raking across Noir's side. Blood sprayed, but Noir didn't even flinch.

"You're not human," Gary muttered, his voice laced with disbelief.

The fight devolved into a savage exchange. Noir's attacks were wild and unrelenting, his speed increasing with every passing second. Gary, despite his overwhelming strength and technique, found himself struggling to keep up.

"You're going to destroy yourself at this rate!" Gary shouted, landing a solid punch to Noir's ribs that sent him skidding across the sand.

Noir didn't stay down for long. He surged forward, ignoring the blood dripping from his wounds, and tackled Gary with enough force to send them both tumbling. Noir straddled Gary, his fists hammering down like a storm.

Gary roared, using his immense strength to throw Noir off. He scrambled to his feet, panting, his gauntlets now dented from the sheer force of Noir's attacks.

"This is insane…" Gary muttered, wiping the blood from his mouth.

Noir didn't care. He lunged again, his movements almost feral. He swung his broken left arm like it was perfectly intact, the bones audibly cracking with each strike. Yet the pain didn't slow him down—it only seemed to fuel his frenzy.

Gary countered with a devastating uppercut, his gauntlet connecting with Noir's jaw. The blow should've knocked him out cold, but Noir barely staggered.

"You're a monster," Gary hissed.

Noir no responded and driving his fist into Gary's stomach.

The beach was torn apart, the once-pristine sand now soaked with blood and littered with debris. Gary's movements were slowing, his strength waning under Noir's relentless assault.

"This is impossible…" Gary muttered, his voice weak. He was cornered, his back against the remnants of the shattered boulder.

Noir loomed over him, his chest heaving, his glowing eyes devoid of mercy. With a final, Noir grabbed Gary by the throat and slammed him into the rock.

Gary struggled, his gauntlets weakly clawing at Noir's arm. "You… damn…" he choked out, his vision fading.

Noir didn't stop. He drove his knee into Gary's chest, then followed with a flurry of punches. Each strike landed with enough force to crack the stone behind them. Blood sprayed with every blow, painting the sand in crimson streaks.

By the time Noir's fists finally stopped, Gary's body was limp, his lifeless eyes staring into the void.

Noir staggered back, his bloodstained fists trembling. The glow in his eyes flickered, then faded entirely. then his eyes which were previously in Reverse Eyes mode, now return to normal. His body swayed, and for a moment, it seemed like he would collapse.

But before he fell, Noir's gaze turned toward the forest where Ihwa and the others were hiding. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"They're safe…" he murmured.

And with that, Noir's body gave out. He collapsed backward onto the sand, unconscious but alive.

****************

'Ugh, it feels like I've just walked through the gates of death,' Noir thought as he slowly opened his eyes, now glowing faintly with the Reverse Eyes. He glanced around, taking in the sight of the trees and sky above, confirming he was still on this desolate island. The fact that he was alive meant that the Black Market's lackeys had either fled or decided to relocate their base of operations. Either way, Noir couldn't care less.

"Well, at least I'm free now," he muttered, letting out a long sigh. He scanned his surroundings but saw no trace of the four women who had been about to be sold. Noir assumed they had already escaped and dismissed the thought. Sure, he had cared enough to help them out of their hellish situation, but beyond that, they weren't his concern. Now that they were free, his job was done.

The only reason he had bothered to train Ihwa in the first place was because they had shared a cell, and her broken, doll-like state had been an inconvenience. If she had remained a shattered shell of a person, it would have been a problem for him in the long run. So, he'd taught her the basics of being human again—how to talk, move, eat, and even fight—not out of compassion, but out of necessity. What she did with her life now was her own business. Noir wasn't a babysitter.

As he sat down, his body screamed in protest, every movement tugging against the bandages that covered him from head to toe like a poorly wrapped mummy. His injuries were still severe, but he was alive—a fact he found mildly surprising given the battle's ferocity. His last clear memory was of fighting Gary, and then… darkness. He couldn't recall the details of how the fight had ended, only that Gary had been dead by the time Noir collapsed.

'So this is what it feels like to lose control of the Reverse Eyes,' he thought, recalling the moment he'd relinquished control over his limiter in a last-ditch effort to survive. The results had been devastating, and Noir could only imagine the carnage he'd wrought in that state.

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud growling of his stomach.

"For now, I need to eat," Noir muttered, clutching his abdomen. He stood up slowly, only for the cloth tied around his waist to slip to the ground.

Looking down, Noir noticed the state of his body—bandaged legs covered in bloodstains—and one other… noticeable feature. His lower half, exposed for the first time in proper light, revealed a certain part of his anatomy that was, well, disproportionately large.

'So this is what I've been carrying around, huh?' Noir thought dryly, glancing at himself with mild disinterest. Back in the dark prison, he hadn't paid much attention during bathroom breaks, but now it was impossible to ignore.

He quickly picked up the cloth and tied it securely around his waist. "Guess my clothes didn't survive the fight," he muttered. Preparing to head into the forest in search of food, Noir froze when he heard an unusual sound—a soft dragging noise, faint but distinct.

Turning his head, he scanned the area but saw nothing. Then, he felt it—a hand weakly grasping his leg from behind.

'Hmm?' Noir looked down and found her.

A woman was crawling on the ground like a wounded animal, her long blonde hair dirty and matted, her wide brown eyes hollow and unseeing. Her emaciated, naked body was marred by a slave brand burned into her back.

She pointed weakly in a direction where the faint sound of waves could be heard.

"Is she over there?" Noir asked, thinking of Ihwa as he noticed the familiar branding on the woman's back. The woman gave a small nod before beginning to crawl toward the direction she had pointed, moving like a broken compass trying to show the way.

Noir sighed heavily. "This is going to take forever."

Without hesitation, he reached down, grabbed her frail body, and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of rice. The sudden movement made the woman flinch in surprise, but she offered no resistance.

"This'll be faster," Noir said plainly, walking steadily despite the lingering pain in his body.

As he carried her, Noir glanced at her status with a mixture of curiosity and detachment.

[Name: Tsukumo Yuki]

[Age: 28]

[Title: -]

[Race: Human]

[Devil Fruit: -]

[Potential: S-]

[Strength: F]

[Endurance: E]

[Durability: F]

[Speed: F]

[intelligent: F]

[Luck: S-]

'Hmm, her potential is S,' Noir thought, beads of sweat forming on his brow. The revelation surprised him. Finding someone with S-rank potential living as a slave was a rarity. It piqued his curiosity about the other two women—were their potentials just as extraordinary?

After a while, Noir spotted three figures near the wrecked pirate ship. Two of them were crawling just like Yuki, while the third moved in and out of the ship, dragging crates, barrels, and supplies. Even from a distance, Noir could tell it was Ihwa.

The three women paused as Noir approached, their gazes locked onto him. While Ihwa's expression was neutral, the two others, Mizuki and Fubuki, stared at him with a mixture of confusion and fear, still crawling on all fours like beaten animals. Noir's sharp eyes scanned them, noting their fragile frames and timid postures.

Noir let out a long sigh as he tossed Yuki onto an empty wooden crate with a casual motion, like throwing a sack of grain. The blonde-haired woman flinched slightly but said nothing, her wide, empty eyes simply staring at him. She didn't expect much from the man who had just saved her.

"You're still like this," Noir remarked, observing Yuki's frail body. "But at least you knew the way."

Noir leaned back against the wooden crate, his crimson eyes lazily watching Ihwa fiddle with a twig in her hand. Her silver-white hair shimmered in the sunlight, but what stood out more was the mischievous smirk she wore.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Noir asked, his voice low but carrying a faint edge of curiosity.

Ihwa tilted her head, her smirk growing wider. "You're so grumpy all the time, Noir. I'm just trying to figure out if that's your natural face or if you're actually like this on purpose."

Noir blinked, then sighed, shaking his head. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to irritate me on purpose."

Ihwa chuckled, tossing the twig into the fire. "Maybe I am." She scooted closer, her movements casual yet deliberate. Leaning forward, she rested her chin on her knees, her gaze fixed on him.

"You've been sticking to me like glue ever since we got out of that hellhole," Noir muttered, crossing his arms. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Ihwa's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of quiet sincerity. "I don't. You're all I have now, Noir."

Noir narrowed his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Ihwa…"

"I know," she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. "You're not interested in me, and you probably never will be. That's fine. I'm not here for that."

"Then why are you here?" he asked, his tone sharper than intended.

"Because you saved me," Ihwa replied without hesitation. "And because… you're the only person who's ever made me feel like I could be more than what I was."

Noir sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair. "I'm not a savior. I didn't save you out of kindness or pity. I did it because having a broken doll as a cellmate was annoying."

"I know that too," Ihwa said, her voice laced with amusement. "But you still did it. You taught me how to speak, how to fight, how to live. That means something to me, even if it doesn't mean anything to you."

Noir frowned, scratching the back of his neck. "You really are stubborn, huh?"

"I learned from the best," she said with a teasing grin.

Noir couldn't help but smirk, though he quickly masked it by looking away. "You're impossible."

"And you're soft," Ihwa shot back, leaning closer until her face was mere inches from his. "You act all tough, but I can see it. You care more than you let on."

Noir snorted, gently flicking her forehead. "Don't push your luck, kid."

"Hey, I'm not a kid!" Ihwa protested, rubbing her forehead with a pout. "I'm twenty, remember?"

"Then stop acting like a child," Noir retorted, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Ihwa crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks in mock defiance. "I can act however I want. You're the one who taught me how to talk, so technically, this is your fault."

Noir chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Great. I've created a monster."

The playful banter was interrupted by the soft groans of the two other women nearby. Noir's gaze shifted to them, his amusement fading into a neutral expression.

Mizuki and Fubuki sat huddled together, their thin frames trembling as they struggled to sit upright. Their once-vibrant hair hung limply around their faces, and their hollow eyes darted nervously between Noir and Ihwa.

"You've been awfully quiet," Noir said, addressing the pair.

Mizuki flinched, her purple eyes wide with fear, while Fubuki bit her lip, her green eyes darting to the ground.

"They're still scared of you," Ihwa said matter-of-factly, her tone devoid of judgment.

"I can see that," Noir replied, activating his Observe skill. The familiar blue panels appeared in his vision, displaying their stats.

[Name: Mizuki]

[Age: 22]

[Title: -]

[Race: Human]

[Devil Fruit: -]

[Potential: A]

[Strength: F]

[Endurance: E]

[Durability: F]

[Speed: F]

[intelligent: F]

[Luck: S-]

She has long dark orange hair that extends well down her back and She has purple eyes.

[Name: Fubuki]

[Age: 21]

[Title: -]

[Race: Human]

[Devil Fruit: -]

[Potential: A]

[Strength: F]

[Endurance: E]

[Durability: F]

[Speed: F]

[intelligent: F]

[Luck: S-]

She has long dark green hair that extends well down her back, and her eyes are light green.

"Tch. They're weaker than I thought," Noir muttered, rubbing his temples.

"You don't have to say it out loud," Ihwa teased, though her tone carried a hint of concern.

"They need to know the truth," Noir said bluntly. "If they're going to survive out here, they need to stop being liabilities."

Mizuki and Fubuki flinched again, their frail bodies trembling under Noir's harsh gaze.

"Relax," Noir said, his tone softening slightly. "I'm not going to let you die. But you'll need to pull your weight. I'm not carrying you forever."

The two women exchanged hesitant glances before nodding slowly.

"That's a start," Noir said with a faint smirk. "Tomorrow, we're beginning your training. I'm not teaching you how to fight—not yet. First, we're going to fix those weak, pathetic bodies of yours."

Mizuki and Fubuki looked both terrified and relieved, while Ihwa couldn't help but smile.

"You're such a softie, Noir," she said, leaning against his shoulder again.

"Call me that again, and I'll make your training twice as hard," he threatened, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

"You wouldn't," Ihwa said with a grin.

"Try me," Noir replied, flicking her forehead again.

They both joked around because Noir also wanted to lighten the mood which was somehow very sad, after all these 4 women who were almost made into permanent slaves once again, were finally free.