Waking up in a dimly lit cave for the second time was just as disorienting as the first.
For a few terrifying seconds, my mind tried to reboot into my old life, waiting for the sound of my phone alarm or the distant honk of a rickshaw in a Goan street.
But the air was too still, and the ceiling was too stone.
Then, the memory of the letter, the blue vial, and the absolute insanity of my situation came crashing back.
I tried to sit up, but a groan escaped my throat as my nerves screamed in protest.
My body felt like it had been broken apart and stitched back together by someone who didn’t believe in anesthesia.
Every muscle was on fire, a deep, throbbing soreness that made the simple act of moving my arm feel like a Herculean task.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself upright, leaning against the cold cave wall.
That’s when I saw them.
My arms.
Yesterday, they had been, the arms of a man who spent too much time behind a desk, serviceable, but soft.
Now, they were corded with dense, explosive muscle.
They looked like the limbs of an MMA fighter or a heavyweight boxer.
I pulled up my shirt, and the sight was even more jarring.
My belly was gone, replaced by rock-hard, defined abs.
It wasn’t just the Compound V.
I could feel a density in my bones that wasn’t there before, a heavy, grounded strength that hinted at the Buccaneer blood Damien had mentioned.
I wasn’t just “fit”; I felt reinforced.
I spent the next several hours in a state of frustrated experimentation.
The soreness eventually faded into a dull hum, but as I stood up, I didn’t feel like a superhero.
I didn’t have lightning crackling from my fingertips or the ability to fly.
I just felt…
me, but upgraded.
There was a faint, persistent tingling at the base of my skull, a sensory itch I couldn’t scratch, but nothing else.
“Okay,” I muttered, pacing the polished floor.
“Damien promised a power.
Where is it?”
What followed was perhaps the most humiliating day of my life.
If anyone had been watching, they would have seen a twenty-five-year-old man in a cave performing every ridiculous movement known to pop culture.
I tried the Spider-Man web-flicking gesture.
I did the Power Rangers transformation pose.
I even spent twenty minutes trying the Sailor Moon *henshin* routine and the Kamen Rider belt-slap.
At one point, I got so desperate and “emo” that I started poking my own shadow, half-hoping a shadow-beast would rise out of the floor to do my bidding.
Nothing.
Just the sound of the ocean and my own growing frustration.
By midday, I gave up on the “flashy” stuff and decided to test the limits of my new body.
I started with simple burpees and sprints from the cave entrance to the back wall.
Immediately, I noticed the change.
I was fast, easily three times faster than I’d ever been.
My lungs didn’t burn, and my heart rate barely climbed.
It was during a set of explosive pushups that I felt it.
With every repetition, every snap of my muscles, that tingling sensation at the back of my head intensified.
It felt like a battery was being charged.
A literal energy bar was filling up in my mind’s eye.
By sunset, I finally understood my hand.
I hadn’t rolled a flashy elemental power, I had rolled a mutated form of Fa-Jin, the kinetic storage ability I recognized from Deku in My Hero Academia.
By performing repeated movements, I could accumulate and store raw kinetic energy within my cells.
This energy was a universal fuel.
I could release it in bursts to multiply my strength, speed, and durability.
But my version went a step further, I could channel that stored energy into my metabolic processes to trigger a high-speed healing factor.
I tested it by punching the stone wall with everything I had.
It was a stupid move, I hadn’t mastered the output yet.
I heard the sickening crunch of my knuckles and felt the white-hot flash of pain.
But as I clutched my shattered hand, I felt the energy bar in my head deplete.
The tingling moved to my fist, and within minutes, the swelling went down and the bones knit back together.
Even better?
As the energy filled me, the gnawing hunger and thirst that had been plagueing me all day vanished.
The kinetic energy was literally sustaining my life force.
“Not bad,” I breathed, looking at my healed hand.
“A versatile gacha pull.
Strength, speed, healing, and self-sustenance.
I can work with this.”
Now, it was time for the BusoRenkie (BR).
According to the instructions, it needed blood.
Since my hand was still covered in the red evidence of my wall-punch, I smeared a thick coating over the gunmetal-grey hexagonal piece and placed it on the floor.
I waited.
For a long minute, nothing happened.
Then, the metal began to shimmer.
It didn’t just glow, it began to drink the light around it, turning from grey to a deep, void-like pitch black.
Memories long buried surfaced in my mind.
I remembered a shonen series from my childhood, Buso Renkin.
In that show, the Black Kakugane were the pinnacle of alchemical weapons, far more powerful than the standard silver ones.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Was I about to get an SSR-rank weapon?
The BR began to pulse and grow, stretching into a new form.
When the light died down, I stared at the result.
Sitting on the floor were two short, knife-like blades made of a translucent, green crystal.
They were connected by a heavy black chain, with a single green link at the center.
At first, I felt a twinge of disappointment.
They looked like normal fantasy blades, there was a chance they even might have the same ability which was cool, but they lacked the “sci-fi” majesty I expected from an alchemical weapon.
“Win some, lose some,” I sighed, reaching out to pick them up.
The moment my skin touched the jade-like handles, a mental explosion rocked me.
A flood of technical data and martial memories poured into my brain, causing a headache so sharp I nearly blacked out.
My healing factor kicked in, stabilizing my mind as the weapon’s true nature revealed itself.
I wasn’t holding a dud.
I was holding Ryokushō-The Jade Wings.
My mind flashed to a different franchise, Kung Fu Panda 3.
These weren’t just knives, they were like the iconic chained blades of Kai, the Collector.
My BR had reached into the multiverse and pulled out a weapon designed for a warlord.
The Jade Wings had four devastating abilities:
Shapeshifting: The blades could alter their size and form at my whim, changing from daggers to bastard swords, rapiers, or even massive greatswords, all while maintaining the same weight and balance.
Kinetic Discharge: The handles were designed to interface with the user’s energy.
Since I had Fa-Jin, the blades could absorb my stored kinetic energy instead of my stamina and fire it out as concentrated slashes of green light.
The Infinite Chain: The black chain could extend from half a meter to a staggering five kilometers, and I could control its movement telekinetically.
Jade Clones: This was the “Collector” aspect.
The blades could absorb the blood of any creature.
Once enough was collected, I could manifest a “Jade Clone” of that creature, retaining all their strength and even their Devil Fruit powers.
The drawback, I was limited to six clones max, and they would look like autonomous jade statues under my command.
“I’m a one-man army,” I whispered, the weight of the blades feeling perfect in my hands.
The synergy was terrifying.
Fa-Jin provided the fuel, and the Jade Wings provided the reach and the numbers.
With the sun nearly gone, I turned to the final item in the box, the Digivice.
It looked like the “Vital Bracelet” models from Digimon Ghost Game.
I snapped the Fitbit-like strap onto my left wrist and pressed the power button.
The cave erupted in a festive, multi-colored light.
A digital summoning circle appeared on the floor, pixels weaving together out of thin air.
As the glow faded, a small creature stood before me.
It was a white, reptilian Digimon with a baby triceratops-like head.
It had black tips on its horns and tail, with vibrant red accents on its head frills.
A small blue scarf was tied neatly around its neck.
The creature tilted its head, its yellow eyes full of child-like wonder and a surprising amount of grit.
“Are you a human?” it asked in a soft, gravelly voice.
My brain stalled.
Seeing a drawing is one thing; seeing a living, breathing creature made of data is another.
Its skin looked like smooth, matte scales.
It felt…
real.
“Yes,” I managed to choke out.
The creature’s face split into a wide, joyful grin.
It raised a small paw in a wave, its tail wagging slightly behind it.
“My name is Gammamon!” it declared with a burst of energy.
“Will you be my friend?”
I looked at the Digimon, then at my jade blades, then at my new, powerful hands.
For the first time since I woke up in this world, the fear in my gut was replaced by something else.
“Yeah, Gammamon,” I said, reaching out to shake its paw.
“I think we’re going to be great friends.”
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