**Chapter 27 - Teach Borsalino a Lesson**
Borsalino stood frozen in place, his usual easygoing demeanor shattered by the creeping realization that he had lost control over his powers. For the first time in years, a genuine sense of vulnerability crept up his spine.
Jiger, still holding onto his shoulder, regarded him with an almost leisurely calm. His voice, however, carried the weight of absolute certainty.
"This is the power of the Dark-Dark Fruit," he said slowly, as if ensuring Borsalino absorbed every word. "Darkness swallows everything. That includes Devil Fruit abilities. As long as I have a grip on an ability user, their power is completely negated."
"What!?"
Gasps erupted from the surrounding recruits. Even the usually composed Borsalino couldn't hide his shock, his signature smirk faltering for the briefest moment.
Zephyr, standing on the sidelines, narrowed his eyes. He had trained hundreds of Marines, battled countless Devil Fruit users, and yet—he had never encountered anything like this.
A fruit that could outright suppress another Devil Fruit?
He had told Borsalino just days ago that he might one day be defeated, but he hadn't expected the reality to hit this fast.
His initial understanding had been simple—light and darkness, natural opposites, clashing in a battle of supremacy. But what he witnessed now completely overturned that logic.
Light, which could travel faster than anything else, was utterly helpless against the crushing pull of darkness.
And with the ability to erase Devil Fruit powers from the equation, the Dark-Dark Fruit wasn't just a counter to the Glint-Glint Fruit—it completely overwhelmed it.
Borsalino, however, was not one to dwell on a single setback. He quickly composed himself. His usual lazy expression returned, but his body had already begun adjusting to the situation.
Devil Fruit abilities were off the table. That much was clear.
But if Jiger thought that meant he had won, he was sorely mistaken.
Borsalino's arms shimmered with an inky black hue as he coated them with Haki. His movements, though relaxed, were deliberate.
If he couldn't use his Devil Fruit, then he would fight with pure martial skill.
He wasn't some slouch who had coasted through the Marine Academy.
He was an Admiral Candidate.
Jiger had a firm grip on his shoulder, restricting his movement. But that didn't matter. Borsalino focused his strength into his free arm, drawing it back before launching a powerful punch aimed directly at Jiger's abdomen.
From this angle, Jiger had no way to dodge.
If he used that strange phasing technique again, he would have to release his hold on Borsalino, giving him the opportunity to escape.
It was a simple trade-off—keep the advantage but take the hit.
Or let go and reset the fight.
The decision had to be made in an instant.
Yet, before the punch could connect, an unexpected surge of energy crackled through the air.
A burst of cyan lightning arced from Jiger's hand, striking Borsalino with sudden, paralyzing force.
A sharp crack resounded as electricity coursed through Borsalino's body. His entire form seized up, muscles locking involuntarily. His punch, once filled with momentum, faltered mid-swing.
With a dull *thump*, his knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground.
A thin wisp of smoke curled from the corner of his mouth.
Silence.
For a moment, the training ground was eerily quiet.
Then—chaos.
The watching recruits broke into an uproar, their disbelief echoing across the field. Even Zephyr, usually unshakable, looked visibly thrown.
Did… did Borsalino just get knocked down?
Jiger, unfazed, calmly released his grip. He stepped back and crouched down, reaching out to offer his fallen opponent a hand.
Borsalino blinked rapidly, shaking off the residual static, before accepting the help.
Jiger effortlessly pulled him to his feet, dusting off his coat with a nonchalant pat.
"You alright, Borsalino?" he asked, his voice almost casual.
Borsalino swayed slightly before regaining his balance. He tilted his head, his signature smirk returning—though this time, there was a hint of something else. Respect? Amusement? Maybe both.
"Jag—ah, no, Jiger," Borsalino corrected himself. "Tell me something. Since when does the Dark-Dark Fruit let you *discharge electricity*?"
Jiger barely paused before answering.
"It doesn't." He crossed his arms, looking completely at ease. "The ability to generate electricity comes from the Mink Tribe. It's a racial trait."
Borsalino's eyes widened slightly in realization. "Ahh, so you're from the Mink Tribe."
He studied Jiger's face more carefully, his gaze playful yet inquisitive. "But your skin is so smooth," he mused, tilting his head. "Where's all the fur?"
A slow grin spread across his face as his gaze drifted downward.
"Could it be—"
Before he could finish, Jiger's face darkened.
"Where do you see any fur?" His voice was flat, irritated. "My parents are both human."
Borsalino blinked, genuine confusion flickering across his expression. "Eh? Then how did you—"
His words trailed off as Jiger, without another word, reached for his shirt and pulled it up.
Borsalino's eyes locked onto the sight in front of him.
Scars.
Dozens of them. Some faint, others deep and jagged, with an exceptionally large one crisscrossing over his chest like a roadmap of pain.
For once, Borsalino had nothing to say.
His usual teasing remark died on his lips as the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Jiger lowered his shirt without further explanation.
Borsalino's smirk had long faded. His face froze, and for once, there was no trace of amusement in his expression. He stood there in silence, studying Jiger's scars with an unreadable gaze.
Then, without a word, he lifted a hand and gave Jiger a firm pat on the shoulder.
There was no teasing remark, no sarcastic quip—just a quiet gesture of acknowledgment.
Jiger, as if the moment had never happened, merely shrugged it off. He turned his attention to a towering figure in the distance and raised his hand in a casual wave.
Kuma, standing at the edge of the training ground, responded immediately.
With no hesitation, he vanished from his position in a near-instant blur, reappearing beside Jiger in the blink of an eye.
The sudden teleportation drew another wave of astonished gasps from the watching recruits. Some of them instinctively took a step back, barely able to process what they had just witnessed.
The way Jiger and Kuma moved was as if they had rehearsed this exchange countless times. There were no words spoken, no unnecessary gestures—just a single glance was enough for Kuma to understand what Jiger wanted.
Borsalino, still recovering from his earlier shock, blinked at Kuma's sudden arrival.
"Oi, oi," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "What's with that look? You're not planning anything weird, are you?"
Jiger didn't respond. Instead, Kuma stepped forward without hesitation and raised his massive, padded palm.
Before Borsalino could fully process what was happening, Kuma pressed his hand against his chest.
A ripple of energy surged outward, and then—
A translucent, paw-shaped bubble emerged from Borsalino's back.
It was a strange, mesmerizing sight, as if something had been physically pulled out of his body. The red-tinted bubble shimmered under the sunlight, its surface pulsating gently like a living entity.
And then, something even more unexpected happened.
Borsalino, who had been sluggish and stiff from the earlier electric shock, suddenly straightened up. His movements, which had been slightly sluggish just moments ago, became fluid and natural once more.
His body felt… light.
Energized.
As if the fatigue and pain that had been weighing him down had simply disappeared.
Borsalino experimentally stretched his arms, then twisted his waist a few times. His eyes widened in surprise.
"This feels incredible!" he exclaimed. "What the hell did you do?"
Kuma remained as composed as ever. "I removed your fatigue and pain. That is the ability of the Paw-Paw Fruit."
Borsalino's expression shifted as realization dawned on him.
Two golden, cross-shaped glints flickered in his eyes. His gaze slowly turned toward Kuma, no longer just amused—but genuinely intrigued.
"The ability to physically remove pain and exhaustion?" he muttered, his mind racing. "That's… absurdly powerful."
Anyone with combat experience would instantly recognize how invaluable this ability was.
It wasn't just about healing—it was about resetting.
No matter how grueling a battle became, Kuma's ability could instantly restore a fighter to peak condition.
In the right hands, this wasn't just a support skill.
It was a game-changer.
Zephyr, who had been observing the entire exchange from a distance, clenched his fists tightly.
His breathing had subtly quickened, and a rare expression of pure excitement flashed across his face.
To hell with composure.
To hell with protocol.
This was *huge.*
He had always known Jiger was a monster in his own right, but Kuma—Kuma was an *asset* unlike anything the Marines had ever seen.
A powerhouse with overwhelming physical strength.
A healer who could completely remove pain and exhaustion.
A combatant with the ability to *redirect* damage.
If Kuma had been considered Jiger's companion before, then with this revelation, his value had become entirely independent.
Zephyr barely resisted the urge to storm into Marine Headquarters and grab Sengoku by the collar.
Did they even realize what kind of talent they had standing right in front of them?
The Marines *needed* Kuma.
And if the Celestial Dragons had any objections?
They could shove their complaints where the sun didn't shine.
Zephyr exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down.
But deep inside, he was already thinking about how to make sure Kuma never left the Marines' grasp.
Meanwhile, Borsalino was still marveling at his newfound state of relaxation. He twisted his body again, bending backward at an exaggerated angle.
"This is amazing," he said, voice filled with genuine admiration. "But wait… if you removed the pain, then where did it—"
The words had barely left his mouth when the red, paw-shaped bubble behind him *shuddered.*
A strange force rippled through the air as the bubble trembled, then—
It started moving.
Slowly at first. Then faster.
And it was coming straight for Borsalino.
His instincts screamed at him. In an instant, his body scattered into particles of light, flashing across the training ground to put as much distance between himself and the mysterious bubble as possible.
But the bubble didn't stop.
It hovered for a brief moment, then continued drifting toward him, steadily gaining speed.
From across the field, Jiger called out, "Borsalino, if no one takes the impact, that pain will eventually return to you!"
Borsalino, still dodging, shouted back, "Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Just keep running forever!?"
Jiger extended his hand, and tendrils of darkness coiled in his palm, gradually solidifying into the shape of a black Bible.
As a breeze swept past, the Bible fluttered open with a crisp rustle. From its pages, a spiraling dark tornado erupted, expelling a half-conscious man onto the ground—a pirate Jiger had captured back in the Sorbet Kingdom.
This unfortunate soul was the last prisoner sealed within Jiger's Bible. He was physically robust compared to the others who had once been trapped inside, but even he looked as if he had barely clung to life. The rest—less fortunate captives—had long since perished, their bodies reduced to nothing by the devouring darkness.
Items frequently exposed to a Logia user's power can undergo transformation, adapting to the nature of their element. A prime example of this phenomenon is the red rose Akainu wears on his chest in later years.
Jiger's Bible had undergone a similar metamorphosis. No longer an ordinary book, it had become a personal storage space—an extension of his dark abilities. Unlike the raw, chaotic force of darkness that consumed indiscriminately, the Bible provided a stable, controlled dimension. Anything placed inside remained trapped, unable to escape, while living beings suffered a slow, inevitable decay.
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