ONE PIECE: Lone Sails

The group stood in a loose circle, their eyes fixed on Ajie as he devoured the Devil Fruit, its strange, twisted flesh disappearing bite by bite. When he finished, a heavy silence fell, and all attention shifted to the remaining prize: the Silverback Gorilla Fruit, its rough, silvery skin glinting faintly in the dim light.

Anthony broke the quiet first, shaking his head. "I'm set on being a swordsman. An animal-type fruit like this? It'd just weigh me down."

Tomani, his wild hair resembling a nest of instant noodles, waved a dismissive hand. "I'm taking over my father's trade. Something from the animal class lacks… refinement. It's not for me."

Alei, ever the sharpshooter, leaned back with a casual shrug. "You know me, brother. As a sniper, this fruit's wasted on me. No point."

The room grew still again, each person lost in their own thoughts, until Uncle Joseph—quiet until now—stepped forward. With a faint smile, he reached for the fruit, cradling it in his weathered hands. "I'm getting on in years," he said, his voice steady but warm. "Let your old uncle take this one."

Noah met his uncle's gaze, catching the flicker of something deeper—concern, resolve, and a quiet understanding. It was clear Joseph had weighed the dangers ahead. He didn't want to be a burden, a weak link for Noah and Joshua to protect. At thirty-three, he'd missed the prime years for training. Though he'd pushed himself over the past year and a half, his strength had only grown four or five times—a modest gain that paled beside the others. In recent months, even that progress had slowed, his body resisting further improvement.

Compared to Noah's staggering eighty-three-fold increase, Joshua's twenty-one-fold leap, or Vic's forty-nine-fold surge, Joseph's efforts seemed feeble. Even Mary, the youngest and smallest among them, had boosted her strength eight times. Joseph had watched this gap widen in silence, his resolve hardening. Today, seeing the Silverback Gorilla Fruit, he'd made his choice.

Noah nodded, his voice soft but firm. "Uncle, we're family. Go ahead and eat it."

With a sharp click, Joseph bit into the fruit. He'd been warned of its infamous taste, but the reality still hit hard—a rancid, bitter assault that twisted his face. Yet, thinking of the perils that might lie ahead, he steeled himself, forcing down the rest with his eyes squeezed shut. When the last bite slid down his throat, his expression screamed resignation, as if the world itself had lost all worth.

Lilith darted forward, pressing a glass of grape juice to his lips. He gulped it down, the sweetness chasing away the lingering horror. "That taste," he rasped, revived, "is vile beyond words. But the power—it's real."

No sooner had he spoken than his body began to change. Muscles bulged and swelled, his frame stretching upward until he towered over three meters tall. His shirt tore apart with a loud rip, threads scattering like confetti. Thankfully, his pants—sturdy and elastic—held, though they strained against his transformed bulk.

"Hahaha…" Joseph scratched his head, sheepish amidst the wreckage of his clothes. With a grunt of effort, he willed himself back to human form, then slipped away to change, his footsteps quick and purposeful.

Noah smiled faintly, turning to Lilith. "Tomorrow, buy some large, elastic clothes. We'll need them."

"Hehe, got it," she replied with a nod.

The next morning, a newspaper arrived, its headline blaring the grim tale of White Town Flevance—its origins, its downfall. Noah scanned the article, his expression unchanging. Even exposing the tragedy years early couldn't alter its course. As long as the World Government's shadow loomed, Flevance was doomed. Still, he hadn't expected Morgans to dare publish it. Then he recalled the previous night's events: after their deal two days prior, the WES branch in Rogue Town had emptied overnight. Morgans had seen the storm coming.

For now, Noah lacked the strength to intervene in such upheavals. Leveraging his past-life knowledge to secure early wealth was a traveler's smartest play, but opportunities like this—reaping rewards with no cost—were rare. He set the paper aside and activated the cards embedded in his soles.

Twin jets of flame roared from his feet, propelling him skyward. The fire-breathing cards, fueled by hydrogen and oxygen stored within their spatial pockets, ignited via a spark mechanism in his soles. The gases came from water electrolysis, powered by wind turbines and batteries on Haixing Island. Over the past year, Noah Manor had amassed over a dozen such systems, their surplus energy fueling steel forging, electroplating, and more.

In midair, Noah twisted his body to steer, the flames' heat licking the wind. Soon, he descended toward the training ground in the bay's northwest corner—a space carved out for practicing Conqueror's Haki. Below, Ajie was testing his Graphite Fruit powers.

Noah landed smoothly in the center of the field as Ajie paused, looking up. "Brother Noah, here to use the grounds?"

"No," Noah replied, shaking his head. "I came to check on your fruit development."

He'd already sketched out ideas for the Graphite Fruit the previous night. "Ajie, try turning your shoes into graphite."

"Shoes into graphite? Alright, I'll give it a shot…" Ajie focused, and in an instant, his shoes shimmered black, transformed into sleek graphite.

"Now release it," Noah instructed.

Ajie blinked, puzzled, but obeyed, the shoes reverting to normal.

"Don't transform them fully," Noah continued. "Create a graphite layer on the soles instead."

"Got it, Brother Noah." Ajie concentrated again, and a thin, glossy coating formed beneath his feet.

"Take a few steps."

Ajie lifted a foot—and promptly toppled backward. Startled, he twisted to catch himself, but his other foot slipped on the stone slab, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Don't fight it with force," Noah advised. "Think of your shoes as skates. Glide across the surface."

After a dozen spills, Ajie found his rhythm, sliding smoothly across the stone with graphite-coated soles. "Hahaha, brother, I did it!"

Noah smiled but tempered his enthusiasm. "Don't celebrate yet. This only works on stone or concrete. Mud or swamps will render it useless. The trick relies on graphite's lubricating properties. Build on that."

Ajie's eyes widened. "Brother, you're incredible. You know everything."

"That's why I tell you to read more," Noah said. "Knowledge is power."

"Knowledge is power…" Ajie clenched his fists, awestruck. "I'm writing that down. You're the best, big brother."

"Alright, let's test graphite's other traits." Noah had Ajie craft graphite shields, then attacked them with fire-based cards. As expected, ordinary flames barely scratched the surface. Even the hydrogen-oxygen fire-breathing card, at close range, could only burn through a one-centimeter-thick shield. Graphite's high ignition point—between 850 and 1000 degrees Celsius—and excellent thermal conductivity made it resilient. Thicker shields could withstand flames long enough for Ajie to adapt in combat.

Graphite's conductivity offered another edge. Against electrical attacks, Ajie could ground the current, redirecting it harmlessly into the earth. Like other Paramecia creation fruits, the Graphite Fruit also allowed material shaping and puppet creation—think biscuit soldiers, but with graphite's unique properties.

After outlining these possibilities, Noah's tone grew serious. "Ajie, what do you think is the core of a Devil Fruit user's strength?"

Ajie paused, thoughtful.

"The body," Noah said. "It's the foundation. A strong body enhances ability development and paves the way for awakening Haki. Even with this fruit, don't slack on your physical training. Understand?"

Ajie nodded, resolute. "I'll remember, Brother Noah."

Satisfied, Noah left the training ground. He'd held back one advanced idea for the Graphite Fruit, deeming it too complex for Ajie's current level. Mastery took time.

As for Uncle Joseph, Noah wasn't concerned. Animal-type fruits thrived on two pillars: relentless physical training and an iron will. With both, awakening was assured. Neglect either, and the fruit's potential would stagnate—either as a mindless beast or an unawakened shell. Joseph, with his quiet determination, was on the right path.