ONE PIECE: WORTHLESS PROGRESSION

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Troy and Toshi continued to spar, round after round. Each match ended the same: Toshi on the floor, beaten to a pulp.

...Out of all 100 spars, Toshi lost every single one...

By the time they finished, Toshi was slumped against the wall, drenched in sweat and beaten to a pulp. His arms ached, his legs felt like lead, and every inch of his body throbbed with the sting of countless hits. Meanwhile, Troy stretched casually, rolling his shoulders as if he'd just finished a light workout.

"Man, you're persistent, I'll give you that," Troy said, scratching the back of his head. "But, uh… one hundred losses in a row? That's gotta be some kind of record."

Toshi shot him a glare, too tired to come up with a come back. Instead, he muttered under his breath, "I'd like to see you fight if you didn't know how…"

Troy chuckled, then let out a long sigh. "All right, all right. I'll give you some credit...you've got heart, at least. But raw determination isn't enough. You need actual training if you're gonna survive out there."

Toshi raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued despite his exhaustion. "Training?"

"Yeah, training," Troy said with a grin. He gestured toward the others, who were still lounging nearby. "Lucky for you, we've got a pretty solid crew here to help whip you into shape."

Troy pointed at Rose first. She stood leaning casually against the wall, her katana resting lightly on her shoulder. "Rose is your go-to for swordsmanship," Troy explained. "She's sharp...pun intended, and she doesn't hold back. If you want to learn how to wield a blade, she'll teach you, but don't expect her to go easy."

Rose smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I'll make sure you can at least hold a sword without cutting yourself," she said dryly.

Next, Troy pointed at Sogeki, who was still sprawled on the floor, hugging his liquor bottle like a prized possession. "Sogeki's the sharpshooter," Troy said. "Guns, projectiles, anything that requires precision, he's your guy. When he's sober, anyway."

"Meeeh, I'm always precise!" Sogeki slurred, waving his bottle in the air. "Just don't ask me to shoot after drinking! Or do...it's more fun that way!"

Troy rolled his eyes, then motioned toward Ragnar, who sat silently with his arms crossed. "And then there's Ragnar," Troy said. "He's all about muscle training. If you need to build endurance, strength, or just learn how to take a hit without crying, he's the one to talk to."

Ragnar nodded slightly as he uncrossed his arms. "I don't see an issue with that." 

Troy grinned, clapping his hands together. "See? You've got all the help you need, right here. No excuses!"

He was exhausted, beaten, and painfully aware of how far behind he was compared to all of them. But what choice did he have? if he didn't get stronger, he would die the minute he got into a fight.

He straightened up as best he could, still sore from the sparring, and nodded. "Fine. I'll do it," Toshi said, his voice quiet but steady. "I'll train with all of you."

Troy's grin widened. "Best decision you've made thus far."

Sogeki laughed, his bottle swaying precariously in his hand. "Oh, this'll be fun! You'll be dodging bullets in no time, kid."

Rose sighed, running a hand through her hair before adjusting her katana. "Don't expect me to hold your hand," she said flatly. "If you can't keep up, that's your problem. I'll teach you what I know so far, but don't expect me to care if you trip over your own feet."

Ragnar leaned back in his seat, his thick arms crossed as he stared Toshi down. There wasn't a hint of encouragement in his expression. "You've got a long way to go...A very long way to go. " he said after a moment, "This isn't going to be fun for either of us. But we can't afford weak links."

Toshi felt a bit hurt, but he knew it was the honest truth. And honestly, that was better than being fed comforting lies when deep down, he already knew the reality.

"I get it," Toshi said, swallowing hard. "I'm not asking for special treatment. Just... show me what I need to do."

Rose's lips twitched, somewhere between a smirk and a sneer, before she turned away with a curt nod. "We'll see if you're as serious as you sound."

Ragnar grunted in acknowledgment, though his expression didn't change. "We start tomorrow," he said simply. Then, as if deciding the conversation was over, he stood and walked off without another word.

Troy, ever the optimist, grinned as he watched. "Don't mind them. They're just... uh, intense. Deep down, they're rooting for you. Probably."

Toshi doubted that, but he didn't argue. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh and turned his gaze to the floor. He wasn't sure if he'd gain their respect, or if they'd ever look at him as anything other than a burden. But he'd show them. He had to.

Sogeki and Rose trailed behind Ragnar, leaving Troy and Toshi alone in the room.

Toshi was heavily sore, and the sharp ache of his still-cracked ribs didn't make things any easier. Despite the pain, he pushed himself up from the floor, wincing slightly as he steadied himself.

"Alright," he said, his voice determined despite the pain. "How about we run it back?"

Troy's face lit up with a massive grin. "You're gonna regret that," he said with an almost mischievous glint in his eyes.

And Toshi did, in fact, regret it...he regretted it deeply. The rest of the day was spent sparring, and the outcome? Toshi getting the absolute living hell beaten out of him, over and over again.

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( The Next Day... )

Hell...

Pain...

Misery...

Those were the only words Toshi could use to describe the sheer torment he was enduring. First thing in the morning, he was forced into training with Ragnar...a decision he quickly realized was the worst of his life.

The session began with 200 pushups, all while heavy weights were strapped to his back. By the time he managed to finish, his arms felt like they were going to give out entirely. But there was no break. Next, he was made to run laps around the entire ship with even more weights strapped to his shoulders and legs, each step feeling like it would be his last.

"Ahhh..." Toshi gasped, struggling to catch his breath as his body screamed in agony. It felt as if every muscle were on fire. Sweat poured down his forehead, dripping off his face as he continued to run, leaving a trail of glistening droplets behind him.

"Alright... that's enough for now," Ragnar's voice rumbled, halting Toshi in his tracks. "It's someone else's turn... I've got my own training to do."

Toshi barely managed to stand, his legs trembling beneath him, the weight of exhaustion bearing down on him like a mountain. Toshi gave an awkward, strained chuckle, offering a weak thumb up despite his trembling legs and sweat-soaked body. Ragnar stayed silent, giving Toshi a brief nod before casually walking off and leaving him alone in the training room.

As soon as Ragnar left, Toshi collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air, his body wracked with pain. Every muscle screamed at him to stop, every fiber of being wanted him to stop. He wanted to quit, but despite the overwhelming urge to give in, a small, tired smile crept onto his face.

He was finally getting stronger.

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A few moments later, Rose walked into the training room, drenched in sweat, her breathing slightly ragged. Her bandages were torn, now stained with fresh blood. She looked more worn out than Toshi, than anything else.

 "Alright... let's get started," she said, steadying herself with a few deep breaths.

Toshi paused for a moment, unsure whether to say anything. But after a beat, he simply nodded. "Okay..."

Rose stood a few metres away, with a wooden sword in her hands, her expression as cold as ever. She didn't even look at him as she inspected the wooden sword within her hands.

After a moment, she spoke without looking up. "We're using wooden swords today. You can't afford to get sloppy when you're learning. These won't kill you, but they'll still hurt like hell if you don't pay attention."

Toshi swallowed, the knot in his stomach tightening. A wooden sword sounded better than a real one, but the thought of getting hit at all was still scary. 

He nodded, trying to steady his nerves. "Okay... wooden swords. Got it."

He took the sword from the rack nearby, feeling the weight of it in his hands. It wasn't as heavy as he thought it would be, but the unrefined weight was still unfamiliar. The hilt dug uncomfortably into his palms, and the blade felt unsteady in his grasp. But he had to make do with it.

' A dagger would be easier, ' Toshi mused, inspecting the wooden sword.

Rose's voice snapped Toshi out of his thoughts. "Come at me. Show me what you've got," she said.

Toshi's grip tightened, and he shifted his weight. He wasn't sure if he should charge in or try something more measured. His feet felt heavy, his body stiff, and for a moment, the weapon in his hands seemed like a foreign object. But then, with a forceful push from his legs, he lunged forward, swinging the sword in a wide diagonal arc.

The blade cut through the air, its wooden edge aimed directly at Rose's side.

But Rose didn't flinch. She moved with a speed that was almost unreal, sidestepping his swing effortlessly. In a fluid motion, she stepped behind him, bringing her sword down in a controlled strike that landed with a sharp thud against his back.

Toshi gasped, stumbling forward, barely managing to catch himself on his feet. He winced at the impact, the sting of the strike reverberating through his body. That was too easy for her. He couldn't even touch her.

"No focus," Rose noted dryly, stepping back into her stance. "Your guard is weak. You're not using your whole body."

Toshi struggled but tried again, shifting his weight and bringing the sword back up. This time, he tried to anticipate her movements, but Rose was already on him. Rose moved like a blur to Toshi, her blade slicing through the air in an arc aimed at his midsection. Toshi barely had time to react, his arms jerking upward to block the strike. The clash of wood rang out, blunt and resonant, as her sword met his.

"Relax your body," she instructed. "You're so tense. Every strike you make is stiff. Your feet should move with your hips, not against them."

Toshi's legs wobbled as he tried to correct himself, but Rose didn't let up. She pressed forward, feinting high then sweeping low, aiming at his legs. He barely dodged the blow, and the wooden sword grazed his legs.

Toshi could barely keep up, his muscles screaming with each step. Sweat poured down his face, and his breathing came in ragged gasps. But Rose didn't pause one bit for him.

*Clack* *Clack*

This time, he concentrated. He adjusted his stance, shifting his feet just as Rose had shown him, grounding himself more firmly in the wooden floor. He could feel the difference in his balance, the slight tension in his legs as they anchored him to the ground. With a controlled breath, he launched himself forward once again, bringing the sword down in a diagonal strike aimed at Rose's shoulder.

The blade sliced through the air, a clear, controlled motion. For a brief moment, he thought he had it...thought he might actually land a hit.

But Rose was already gone. She darted to the side, her body moving like liquid, and before Toshi could even react, she was behind him again. This time, she didn't hold back.

With a swift, fluid motion, Rose drove the wooden sword into his side, just above his hip. Toshi's breath hitched in his throat as he staggered to the side, feeling the sting of the strike shoot through his ribs.

"Not bad," Rose said. "But you're still telegraphing your moves. You make it too easy for me to read you."

Finally, after another failed attack on his part, she stepped back, her eyes narrowing as she assessed his form. "Alright… that's enough for now," she said, the coldness in her tone now laced with a hint of frustration. "You're garbage right now, and if we keep going like this, you're going to hurt yourself."

Toshi's heart sank, but he didn't argue. He had known he was bad at this, but hearing it from Rose stung a bit.

"You need to go back to basics. No more fancy moves. Let's fix that stance of yours first." Rose lowered her sword and demonstrated, shifting her weight onto one leg and showing Toshi the proper way to hold the sword. "Feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees slightly. Don't lock your legs. Relax, don't overthink it."

Toshi followed her lead, adjusting his stance awkwardly. His legs burned from trying, but he tried to mimic her form as closely as possible.

Rose nodded slightly, then stepped back. "Now, swing the sword like this." She showed him again, the motion smooth and controlled. "Use your whole body...not just your arms. Keep your core straight. If you're not using your whole body, you're not going to be effective."

Toshi attempted to mimic the motion, swinging the wooden sword in a wide arc. It felt stiff, uncoordinated, but he focused on his feet, trying to remember everything Rose had said. With each swing, his form felt slightly better, but he knew he still had a long way to go.

"Again," Rose once more. "And don't forget your legs."

Toshi swung again, this time a little more fluidly. He felt the burn in his arms and legs, but he kept pushing through. The floor beneath him *creaked* as his feet stumbled to keep his balance, but he pressed on. It was his first day, after all. Improvement would come with time... he hoped.

Rose watched silently, her arms crossed, her eyes tracking his every movement. Hours passed, the sun dipping lower in the sky, and with it Toshi's strikes grew marginally better, the tiniest adjustments hinting at the improvement. 

Finally, Rose raised her hand. "That's enough for today," she said curtly.

Toshi let the weapon slip from his grip, the wood clattering to the ground as he dropped to his knees. His chest heaved with each breath, sweat dripping from his chin and pooling onto the floor below. Every inch of his body throbbed with pain.

Rose approached, the floor creaking from her heavy boots, and held out a small canteen. "You're improving," she remarked, her tone even but with a faint edge of approval. "But if you want to survive for real in this world, you need to get stronger... way stronger."

Toshi took the canteen with trembling hands, tipping it back and gulping the cool water greedily. The relief it brought to his parched throat was almost enough to distract him from the aching in his body. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing up at Rose. His voice came out hoarse. "Thanks... I guess."

Rose smirked ever so slightly. "Don't get too comfortable," she said, extending a hand to help him up. "Tomorrow, we're doubling the intensity."

Toshi groaned inwardly, his exhausted body already hating what the next day would bring. But as he grasped her hand and hauled himself to his feet, a small spark lit in his chest....a flicker of determination. If surviving meant enduring this hell, then so be it. He'd rise to the challenge. One painful swing at a time.

Rose then left the room, leaving Toshi alone to prepare himself for the rest of the day. As the hours dragged on, he found himself training under Sogeki. Training with Sogeki happened to be the easiest part of his day. The task was simple: shoot at booze bottles lined up along the railing.

It helped that Sogeki was completely drunk, slurring his instructions to the point that Toshi had to piece together the meaning from context. Still, the practice was straightforward, and the occasional compliment, no matter how mangled by Sogeki's drunken state, was oddly encouraging.

But then came the final part of the day... sparring with Troy. Or, more accurately, being used as a human punching bag. Each session felt like a personal vendetta, with Troy grinning wildly as he threw a relentless storm of punches and jabs. Toshi did his best to keep up, but "keeping up" often meant just trying to stay on his feet while Troy effortlessly dismantled him.

By the end of it, Toshi was left battered, bruised, and questioning every life decision that had led him to this moment.

...AND JUST LIKE THAT A...WEEK AND A HALF PASSED...

TO BE CONTINUED.

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