If there was one thing I prided myself on in my previous life, it was efficiency.
Why stand when you can sit?
Why sit when you can lie down?
Why work hard when you can automate the process?
Reincarnating into a Shonen anime universe fundamentally threatened my core philosophy.
This world was built on screaming, sweating, and pushing past physical limits through sheer, agonizing willpower.
It was exhausting just thinking about it.
So, I decided to compromise.
If I had to get insanely strong to save Kuina from the world’s most lethal staircase, I was going to do it my way.
“What in the name of the sea are you doing?” I cracked one eye open.
Kuina was standing over me, her hands on her hips, her wooden training sword tapping rhythmically against her shoulder.
The afternoon sun was glaring directly into my face, which was annoying, but I couldn’t move my arms to block it.
“I am training,” I replied, my voice slightly muffled because my cheek was squished against the dirt.
“You are asleep,” Kuina pointed out deadpan.
“In the middle of the courtyard.
Tied to four large rocks.” “It’s called passive resistance training,” I explained, closing my eye again.
“I tied twenty pounds of stones to my arms and legs.
Ergo, even when I am doing absolutely nothing, my muscles are under constant tension.
I am getting stronger while I nap.
It’s genius.
Please don’t interrupt the grind.” Kuina let out a long, heavy sigh that sounded far too mature for a kid her age.
“My father is going to kick you out of the dojo.
You look like a hostage.” “Your father doesn’t appreciate innovation.” Just then, the air in front of my face shimmered, and a familiar, obnoxious blue screen popped into existence.
**[DING!
The ‘Absolute Body Cultivation System’ admires your unique approach to physical enhancement!
Bind now to receive the ‘Golden Emperor’s Breathing Technique’ and a set of gravity-defying training weights!]** **[Y / N]** *Ugh.
Another one.* Ever since I rejected the first batch of Systems, they had been treating me like an unsubscribed email list.
Every time I did something remotely out of the ordinary, a new, hyper-specific System popped up trying to recruit me.
Yesterday, I accidentally stepped on a cockroach and the *’Supreme Assassin Death-God System’* tried to offer me a cursed dagger.
Since my hands were currently tied to heavy rocks, I couldn’t swipe the screen away.
So, I did the next best thing.
I blew a raspberry at it.
The screen flickered, seemingly offended, and vanished.
“Who are you blowing raspberries at?” Kuina asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you hallucinating?
Did you eat another expired rice ball?” “I’ll have you know my digestive tract is a marvel of modern biology,” I grunted, finally deciding I had enough ‘passive training’ for the day.
I strained my arms, the heavy ropes biting into my skin, and managed to push myself up into a sitting position.
My diet over the last few weeks had been a major point of contention in the dojo.
Since I refused to do the grueling cardio routines the other students did, I realized I needed a different way to build my stats.
Remembering the “Iron Stomach” trait I was destined to have, I started stress-testing my own gastrointestinal limits.
I ate raw fish.
I ate mildly bruised fruit.
Last Tuesday, I ate a mysterious mushroom I found growing behind the dojo outhouse.
Kuina had almost dragged me to the village doctor by my ear, but surprisingly, I didn’t even get a stomach ache.
Instead, I felt a bizarre surge of vitality.
My body was adapting, breaking down literally anything I consumed and converting it into pure, dense muscle mass.
“Untie me,” I demanded, wiggling my rock-bound hands.
“It’s time for lunch.
I saw some questionable seaweed on the beach I want to experiment with.” Kuina rolled her eyes, but she drew a small knife from her belt and sliced the ropes.
“You are going to die of food poisoning before you ever learn how to hold a sword properly.” “Doubtful.
I’m building a toxicological immunity.
By the time I’m an adult, I’ll be able to drink poison for breakfast.” “You’re an idiot,” she said, though there was a small, exasperated smile playing on her lips.
She tossed her shinai at my chest.
I caught it clumsily, nearly dropping it on my toe.
“Less eating garbage, more swinging.
You challenge me every day, and you still haven’t landed a single hit.” She was right.
The tally was currently at 142 losses.
Zero wins.
I stood up, rolling my shoulders.
Despite my laziness, the passive rock-sleeping and the bizarre iron-stomach diet were actually working.
My center of gravity felt more grounded.
The wooden sword didn’t feel quite as heavy in my hands anymore.
“Fine.
Match 143,” I declared, dropping into a sloppy stance.
I held the shinai with one hand, resting it on my shoulder.
“But when I win, you have to fetch my lunch.” “Deal.
But when I win, you have to actually run laps with the rest of the class tomorrow.” “You drive a hard bargain, demon.” I didn’t wait for her to set her stance.
I exploded forward, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The speed surprised even me.
The rocks had weighed me down so much that taking them off made me feel incredibly light.
I swung the wooden blade down in a brutal, overhead arc.
Kuina’s eyes widened slightly at the sheer speed of it.
She didn’t try to block it directly—she was too smart for that.
She pivoted on her heel, letting my sword slam into the dirt where she had been standing a fraction of a second prior.
The impact sent a shockwave up my arm, vibrating my teeth.
Before I could recover, her shinai whipped around like a viper.
*Whack.* It caught me right in the ribs.
I grunted, stumbling sideways, but I didn’t fall.
For the first time, I actually absorbed the blow and spun around, swinging my sword in a wide, horizontal sweep aimed at her waist.
Kuina parried, our wooden blades clashing with a loud *crack*.
For two full seconds, we locked blades.
I gritted my teeth, pushing all my newly acquired, bizarrely-sourced muscle mass into the strike.
Kuina’s boots slid back an inch in the dirt.
Then, she effortlessly twisted her wrists, redirecting my force.
I stumbled forward, completely off balance, and she brought the pommel of her sword down hard on the back of my neck.
I hit the floor.
Again.
“One hundred and forty-three,” Kuina said, her chest heaving slightly.
She was actually out of breath this time.
“You…
you hit a lot harder than yesterday.
Are those stupid rocks actually working?” “Told you,” I wheezed, not bothering to get up.
The dirt was nice and cool.
“Passive gains.
It’s the future of fitness.” **[DING!
The ‘Sword God’s Rivalry System’ has detected a fateful bond!
Bind now to unlock a 500% EXP boost when sparring with your designated rival!]** **[Y / N]** *Not now, I have a headache.* I mentally swiped the prompt away, rubbing the back of my neck.
Kuina sat down in the dirt next to me, crossing her legs.
She didn’t look triumphant like she usually did.
She stared down at her wooden sword, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilt.
The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, save for the distant sound of the ocean waves crashing against the island.
“My father told me again today,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of its usual fiery confidence.
“Told you what?” I asked, turning my head to look at her.
I knew what was coming, but hearing it still made a knot form in my stomach.
“That a woman can never be the world’s strongest.
He said I’m already reaching my peak.
That as we get older, boys will get stronger, and their muscles will outgrow mine.
He said my talent won’t matter in a few years.” She didn’t cry.
Kuina was too proud for that.
But the quiet devastation in her eyes was worse than tears.
It was the look of someone watching their dream get dismantled by biological technicalities.
I sat up slowly, brushing the dust off my green haramaki.
I looked at her, then down at my own pudgy, green-haired self.
“Your dad is an idiot,” I said bluntly.
Kuina blinked, startled by the disrespect.
“Don’t talk about the Master like that.” “I’ll talk about him however I want.
He’s an idiot,” I repeated, leaning back on my hands.
“Look at me, Kuina.
I eat moldy fruit.
I sleep tied to rocks.
I have the muscle density of a baby hippo right now.
I put all my strength into that swing, and you still put me face-first in the dirt without breaking a sweat.” She looked at me, a tiny frown forming.
“What’s your point?” “My point is that strength isn’t just about who has the biggest biceps,” I said, pointing a finger at her.
“It’s about skill, technique, and willpower.
And you have more of that than anyone in this village.
So what if some meathead gets bigger than you?
Cut them down before they can swing.
If your father thinks gender dictates the ceiling of a swordsman, then he’s a crappy teacher.” Kuina stared at me, her dark eyes wide.
For a second, I thought she was going to hit me with her shinai again for insulting her father.
Instead, the tension slowly bled out of her shoulders, and a genuine, small smile broke across her face.
“A baby hippo?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s a very muscular animal,” I defended, crossing my arms.
“Highly territorial.” Kuina laughed, the sound bright and clear, chasing away the heavy gloom that had settled over her.
“You are so weird, Zoro.
I really don’t understand you.” “You don’t need to understand me.
You just need to fetch my lunch.
I distinctly remember betting on this match.” “You lost, you idiot!” she shoved my shoulder playfully.
“You’re running laps tomorrow at dawn!” “I’ll sleepwalk through them,” I threatened.
As she stood up, offering me a hand to pull me off the ground, the knot in my stomach tightened again.
She was smiling now.
She was determined.
But the timeline was still ticking.
The stairs were still waiting in the future.
I took her hand and pulled myself up.
I was going to have to eat a lot more garbage and tie a lot more rocks to my body.
Because whatever it took, whatever absurd, lazy, or painful method I had to employ, I was going to make sure that smile never disappeared.