It had been five years since Jackson first set foot on the path to mastery. Five years of relentless training, countless repetitions, and pushing himself beyond the limits of what a typical seven-year-old could endure. Now, at twelve years old, Jackson had transformed in ways he hadn't even imagined when he first began.
He had grown taller, his muscles more defined, though still not the bulk of an adult. His frame was that of a lean, athletic boy, but there was no mistaking the strength that had been built over the years of relentless practice. His training had paid off in ways that were obvious even to the people around him. He looked like someone who could hold his own in a fight, and in many ways, he could.
His skills had expanded far beyond simple swordsmanship. Jackson was now proficient in several of the Rokushiki techniques that the World Government's elite forces used. The foundation of his training had been grueling, but it had paid off in ways that made him confident in his abilities.
Observation Haki, which had once been a distant concept, was now second nature to him. Jackson could sense the presence of people around him with ease, detecting their emotions and intentions as clearly as if they were speaking aloud. He could feel the weight of their presence even when they were hiding or trying to remain unseen. In many ways, it was similar to how Aisa, from the Sky Island, could sense the feelings of others. Jackson had developed a refined sense for moods, emotions, and even the subtle shifts in body language that hinted at someone's intentions. He didn't need to rely on his eyes anymore. The world had become a far more connected place, one where he could perceive things on a deeper, more intuitive level. It wasn't perfect, but he could tell when people were lying, when they were anxious, or when they were about to attack. The clarity he had gained in this skill was invaluable.
In terms of the Rokushiki techniques, Jackson had mastered most of them. Tekkai had become almost instinctual. He could harden his muscles at will, turning his body into something akin to iron, capable of withstanding strikes from even the hardest blows. Soru was another technique he had refined to a fine point. He could move at incredible speeds, dashing around with explosive power. He had learned to move in bursts, allowing him to dodge attacks in the blink of an eye or close the gap between him and an opponent with a single, rapid movement.
Shigan, the finger gun technique, had become one of his favorites. His finger strikes were now powerful enough to pierce wood, stone, and even metal when he focused his energy. His Rankyaku, the whirlwind kick, could send shockwaves through the air, creating gusts strong enough to knock opponents off their feet or break through barriers.
But there was one technique that had always eluded him: Kami-e.
Kami-e, or the Paper Art, was a technique that allowed the user to make their body as flexible as paper, enabling them to dodge attacks with uncanny agility and even float on the wind. It was a technique that required a combination of flexibility and precision, allowing the user to contort their body in ways that were almost impossible to predict. Despite all of Jackson's progress, this one skill remained out of his reach. His flexibility, though impressive for his age, wasn't enough to execute Kami-e with the fluidity required. His body simply wasn't at that level yet, though he had no intention of giving up on it. He knew that in time, he would find a way to master it as well.
But for now, Jackson's focus was elsewhere. His physical form was a reflection of his dedication—fit, strong, and capable. He wasn't the size of a grown man yet, but he was stronger than most adults in the village. He had made an impact—people knew of the boy who could outlast anyone in the village's training grounds, the boy who could sense their presence without even seeing them.
Though he was still just twelve, Jackson knew he had only just begun to scratch the surface of what he could achieve. His mind constantly burned with thoughts of what more he could do. He didn't want to be just a boy who could fight. He wanted to be someone who could change the course of the future. But Jackson knew that the road ahead was long. There were still monsters out there—pirates, marines, and legends. The people he'd read about in his old life, the ones whose names shook the seas—Kaido, Roger, Garp, and the Five Elders—were the ones who had shaped the world. And Jackson was just a small player in this vast, chaotic world.
But he wasn't afraid. In fact, it fueled him. Every day, every training session, was a step closer to becoming something more. His training wasn't just about survival. It was about making his mark on the world.
And though he had come far, Jackson knew there was so much more to learn. Each skill, each technique was just another piece of the puzzle. His journey wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
He was becoming someone who could stand among legends. And soon, the world would know his name.
Jackson's swordsmanship had grown significantly over the past few years. His early training with the wooden swords and basic techniques had evolved into something more refined, something that started to resemble the true skill of a swordsman. Under the watchful eyes of Shimotsuki Kouzaburou and his son Koushirou, Jackson had developed into a competent swordsman for his age.
Though he was still a child, his technique had become increasingly sharper, his strikes more controlled and precise. Kouzaburou's brutal but effective training methods had laid a solid foundation. Every session with the old smith was grueling, but it had pushed Jackson to his limits, shaping him into someone who could hold his own in battle. Kouzaburou was stern, never one to offer praise easily, but his rare nods of approval meant more than anything to Jackson. Despite the old smith's gruff exterior, Jackson had learned invaluable lessons about what it meant to wield a sword with purpose and strength.
Koushirou, though less intense than his father, had also played an essential role in Jackson's development. Koushirou had dreams of one day opening a dojo, and he had already started training a few younger kids in the basics of swordsmanship. Watching him work with the younger generation gave Jackson a glimpse of how a true sensei might approach training. Koushirou's patience and calm demeanor were a stark contrast to his father's rigid methods, but they complemented each other well. Jackson could see that Koushirou had a natural talent for teaching, and though he was still learning, Jackson was lucky to be under his tutelage.
Despite Jackson's progress, he wasn't yet strong enough to challenge either of them. Kouzaburou could still cut through Jackson's defenses with ease, and Koushirou's technique was at a level that Jackson couldn't hope to match just yet. However, there was a noticeable difference now: Jackson could hold his own longer, his stamina increasing with each session, his strikes becoming more powerful and more controlled. He still had a long way to go before he could truly rival them, but he was no longer just the kid in the background. His training had made him into a force that could be reckoned with, even if it was just the beginning.
It wasn't until one of his training sessions that something remarkable happened.
Jackson still remembered the fight clearly, even though it had happened when he was just a little over seven years old. It felt like a defining moment—an event that marked the beginning of his transformation from a curious boy into someone who could stand on the path to becoming a true warrior.
At that time, Jackson had just begun to get a sense of how powerful the world around him could be. His swordsmanship was still raw, but under the harsh training of Shimotsuki Kouzaburou and his son Koushirou, he had started to improve. His strikes were more accurate, his footwork sharper, and though he was still small and far from being a match for either of them, he was starting to hold his own in sparring sessions.
It had been a typical afternoon spar with Koushirou—nothing out of the ordinary, or so Jackson had thought. He had his wooden sword in hand, the usual dull ache in his muscles from the day's training, and his mind focused on perfecting his form. But as the fight progressed, something strange began to happen.
As Koushirou moved to strike, Jackson felt… something. It wasn't his usual instinct, like when his body reacted simply from experience. It was different—like a deep connection to the world around him, a heightened awareness of Koushirou's every motion before it even happened. He felt it in his gut, a pull, a shift in the air that made his body move even before his mind could catch up.
The moment Koushirou lunged at him, Jackson sidestepped without thinking, narrowly dodging the blade aimed for his side. It wasn't just luck—he had known the strike was coming. He could feel Koushirou's intent, like a pulse in the air, and his body moved as if guided by something beyond his own control.
Koushirou stopped mid-swing, eyes wide with surprise. He lowered his sword slowly, staring at Jackson. "You… you dodged that without even looking."
Jackson stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't meant to dodge it. It had just happened. For the first time in his life, he had moved in response to something beyond his own perception. The realization hit him like a wave: he had unlocked Observation Haki. The technique that allowed its user to sense the presence and intentions of others, even without seeing them, had awakened inside him.
He barely had time to process what had just occurred before Koushirou spoke again, this time with a mix of curiosity and astonishment. "You can… feel it, can't you? You're using Observation Haki."
Before Jackson could respond, he heard the deep voice of Kouzaburou, who had been watching from the sidelines. He stepped forward, his usual gruff expression softening for a brief moment. "So, the kid's got some tricks after all. Here I thought all that blindfold nonsense would just slow you down."
Jackson remembered how he had worn the blindfold during some of his training sessions, thinking it might help him sharpen his other senses. At the time, Kouzaburou had laughed at the idea, mocking him for his "foolishness," but now, it seemed his unconventional methods had paid off.
Koushirou gave him a thoughtful look. "To unlock Observation Haki this early… you're different than I thought. I didn't expect it, not at this age."
Jackson remembered how, even though he had just turned seven, Koushirou's words left him feeling a mix of pride and unease. He had only just scratched the surface of what Observation Haki could do, but that glimpse of power, that sudden awareness of the world around him, felt like a glimpse into a future he wasn't entirely prepared for.
Kouzaburou's gruff voice interrupted his thoughts. "Don't get too cocky, kid. Observation Haki doesn't make you invincible. It's just the start. You still need more than that to survive in this world."
Jackson had nodded solemnly, knowing deep down that his journey was far from over. This new ability, while incredible, didn't change the fact that he was still just a child. He still had so much to learn, and this was only the beginning.
Even now, as he reflected on that fight, the memory reminded him of how far he had come—and how far he still had to go. He had unlocked Observation Haki, and though the path ahead was long, that fight with Koushirou had been a pivotal moment. It was when he first realized that his training wasn't just about brute strength or mastering the sword—it was about awakening the hidden potential within him.
It wasn't just about surviving anymore. Now, it was about mastering every aspect of this world—his swordsmanship, his Haki, his willpower. He had a long way to go, but he wasn't afraid of the challenge. The road was long, but it was one he was determined to walk. And with every step, he would grow stronger.