Blizz was beginning to get used to the rhythm of life in Loguetown. His daily routines had become more familiar, but his mind never stopped working on the next challenge. The more time he spent in this new world, the more he realized how much potential he had. Despite the city's hustle and bustle, Blizz felt the growing need to push his own limits, to see just how far he could go with the power he had gained.
Chakra had made him stronger, faster, and more durable than he had ever been. But the feeling of power still left him restless. His chakra reserves were still small—he could feel it when he pushed too hard—but he could sense that his capacity was growing. Every time he reached the edge of exhaustion, he could feel his body expanding its limits just a little more.
And he hadn't even begun to tap into the true extent of chakra yet.
After a week of consistent training in chakra control and refining his basic skills, Blizz felt that it was time to tackle something more complex. He hadn't just gained chakra control; along with it, he'd also inherited memories of three essential jutsu—the Clone Jutsu, the Transformation Jutsu, and the Substitution Jutsu. He hadn't yet practiced them, but he had the knowledge.
Blizz paced around his small room, taking a deep breath. The Clone Jutsu—creating duplicates of himself—would be a great first step. While Shadow Clones were more advanced and dangerous, regular Clones were simpler and had their uses. The Transformation Jutsu would allow him to disguise himself as anyone. It would be a perfect tool for blending in, especially in a place like Loguetown. The Substitution Jutsu, on the other hand, was straightforward: a quick switch with a nearby object, perfect for dodging attacks or escaping tricky situations.
The tricky part, however, was putting these techniques into action. The memories were there, but it would take time to practice, refine, and master them.
But first, there was something more pressing. Blizz had been refining his chakra control with the Leaf Concentration exercise. Now, after a week of steady practice, he was ready to take the next step: Tree Walking.
He knew it wouldn't be easy. But he had the perfect solution—his room's walls.
Blizz stood in the middle of his room, focusing his chakra to the soles of his feet. He extended a foot out and slowly placed it on the wall. The surface felt cold against his skin, but he pushed more chakra into his foot, willing it to stick. The feeling of resistance made his heart race. He was doing it. He was actually walking on the wall.
But the surface gave way under his weight.
The wall cracked.
Blizz quickly jerked back, his face flushing in panic. The wall's surface was damaged, and there was no hiding the fact that he had just ruined part of his rented room.
The wall was covered in faint cracks, and he could see the deep indentations where his feet had pressed into the plaster. His stomach twisted.
Great, now I'll have to pay for that.
His heart thudded in his chest. This was going to cost him. He quickly regained his composure, stepping away from the damage, but the unease lingered. He could already hear the landlord's voice in his head, demanding compensation for the wall.
But that didn't stop him from trying again. He took a few calming breaths, re-centered himself, and placed his foot back onto the wall. This time, he controlled his chakra more evenly. The wall gave a little resistance as his foot held firm.
It wasn't perfect, but Blizz was getting better at it.
The next few days passed in a blur of training. His chakra control was improving by the hour, and his physical strength was growing in parallel. He spent hours on end walking on the walls, refining his technique. Despite the damage to his room, his confidence in using chakra grew. The more he practiced, the more in tune he became with his energy.
At the same time, Blizz didn't forget about his physical training. He knew that being a master of chakra was only part of his journey. His body needed to remain strong and capable, so he spent the rest of his time doing basic physical exercises and Taijutsu training. His strikes became faster, his reflexes sharper. His stamina was improving with each passing day.
⸻
A week passed, and Blizz could feel the difference in his control. His chakra reserves were still small, His chakra, though limited, was beginning to feel more natural, as though it was always a part of him.
Blizz's daily routine continued, but now, his attention turned toward the jutsu he'd inherited. It wasn't enough to simply have the knowledge of them; he needed to put them into practice. That meant mastering the basics before he could try more advanced techniques. First, he would attempt the Clone Jutsu.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Blizz placed his hands in the proper hand seal formation. He took a deep breath and began to channel his chakra. In an instant, the air around him seemed to shimmer, and a pale version of Blizz stood in front of him. It was small, flickering like a mirage.
Not bad, but I can do better.
It was a shaky clone, clearly unstable, but it was a start. The next few attempts were just as shaky—he could form the clone, but it would dissipate too quickly.
By the end of the week, Blizz had improved. His clones were no longer flickering out of existence as soon as they appeared. They held a stable form for a few moments. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress.
⸻
One day, while Blizz was walking through Loguetown, he noticed a commotion up ahead. Several Marines marched past, their polished uniforms glinting in the sun, and leading them was a familiar face: Tashigi, the swordswoman. Her sword was slung across her back, and her sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, giving off an air of authority. Behind her walked a larger figure, Smoker, his cigars smoking steadily as always.
They moved with purpose, ignoring the civilians as they barked orders to their subordinates. Blizz didn't have to hear them to know they were looking for someone—a pirate, most likely. The Marines had been active recently, always searching for some new criminal or rogue element.
Blizz stopped in his tracks, observing from the side. He could feel the tension in the air. He had heard of the Marine's relentless pursuit of pirates, but seeing them in action was different. It wasn't just their strength—it was their coordination. They were a well-oiled machine, each one knowing their place. The authority Tashigi carried was unquestionable, and Smoker's presence only amplified that.
Blizz's mind raced.
If he wanted to, he could make a move—take on these Marines, prove his strength. But now wasn't the time. He wasn't ready to attract that kind of attention yet. He stayed where he was, blending into the crowd, feeling a bit of unease bubble up inside him.
He didn't know why, but the idea of taking on the Marines felt like a bad move. He wasn't sure what his next steps would be, but it was clear: he had a long way to go before he could afford to fight forces like that. For now, he would continue his training, stay low, and bide his time.
Tashigi's gaze met his for a split second, and for a moment, Blizz's heart skipped a beat. She seemed to look right through him, not recognizing him as anything special, but Blizz felt an odd mix of curiosity and wariness welling up inside him. He knew she was a skilled swordswoman, and the way she carried herself made him realize how much he still had to learn.
As he resumed his training, Blizz couldn't shake the question from his mind. For now, he would continue training, pushing his chakra control, mastering his jutsu, and preparing for whatever came next.
As Blizz continued his practice, he focused on improving his skills, mastering each jutsu little by little. His clones were becoming steadier, lasting longer with each attempt. He could now produce a solid clone that could hold its form for several minutes, enough time to be useful for distractions or basic reconnaissance. The Transformation Jutsu was coming along similarly. He'd practiced changing into simple objects at first—rocks, trees, even small animals—and with each transformation, he felt more confident.
Substitution Jutsu, however, proved to be the most challenging. The concept was simple enough: use nearby objects to replace oneself in an instant. The technique itself was intuitive, but timing was everything. Blizz found himself failing time and again. He could only get it right when the object he substituted for was large enough to cover him fully. He still hadn't mastered the instant movement he needed to avoid a real attack.
The weeks flew by as Blizz pushed himself harder. He managed to practice his chakra control while keeping up with his physical conditioning and training his Taijutsu. His body had already started adapting, but the physical training helped him stay grounded. He wanted to be more than just someone who could control chakra; he needed to remain fast, strong, and adaptable in any situation. His strikes were quicker, his reflexes sharper, and he could feel the difference in his endurance. But it wasn't just his chakra capacity growing—it was his entire being.
Blizz had to be careful, though. Training too much without rest would exhaust him, especially as his chakra reserves were still limited. But, with each day, the chakra inside him was becoming more resilient, more powerful. He could almost feel the progress physically. It was as though his body and chakra were slowly syncing with each other.
⸻
One day, after a particularly intense training session, Blizz sat down to rest. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his chakra almost depleted. Even with his training, he still needed breaks. But there was a new realization he had come to in recent days. Each time he hit the limits of his chakra, something shifted inside of him. The exhaustion felt familiar, but when he rested, it was as if his reserves grew—both in quantity and quality.
There was a moment when he had thought the pain of exhaustion might never go away, but now, he knew better. He had to push his body to the edge before it would grow. And as frustrating as that was, it was a part of the process. His strength wasn't just about the chakra—it was about the mind, the control, and the mastery over the body.
⸻
Blizz sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the candlelight flickering on the wooden desk. His mind wasn't on his chakra training, nor the damaged walls he'd have to pay for. No, his thoughts kept circling back to what he saw earlier. The white uniforms. The strict discipline. The symbols of so-called justice.
The Marines.
For years, he had watched them from the pirate's perspective—on a screen, through stories, as the enemy. The unrelenting force that crushed anyone who opposed the world government. They didn't care about freedom, only about control. The strong ruled, and the weak were discarded. If they truly stood for justice, then why did they serve a government built on lies and oppression?
Tashigi. Smoker. He had seen them both today, walking the streets with that air of authority, barking orders at lower-ranked officers as they searched for some unknown pirate.
He clenched his jaw. They were enemies.
His fists tightened. It was almost instinctual—seeing their uniforms, the way they carried themselves, it triggered something deep inside him. He had seen them fight before, seen how they hunted down pirates without a second thought. In a fair fight, maybe he could take Tashigi. Her skill with a sword was undeniable, but he was growing stronger every day. Chakra gave him an edge that no one in this world had. If he had to, he could fight her.
But Smoker?
Blizz exhaled sharply, shaking his head. That was a different story. A Logia user was a monster in battle. His chakra-enhanced strength meant nothing against someone whose body could turn into smoke at will. No normal attack would land, and he didn't have Haki to counter it. Right now, facing Smoker would be suicide.
He leaned back against the wall, running a hand through his hair. His heart pounded at the thought of it—clashing with the Marines, standing against their so-called justice. It was inevitable, wasn't it? If he wanted freedom, if he wanted to carve his own path, it would mean standing against them. Against the world government itself.
Because in this world, anything that followed the world government was his enemy.
That realization sent a rush of fire through his veins. He wasn't ready yet. He knew that. He needed more time—more training. But one day, he would be strong enough to fight back. He would be strong enough to stand on his own, to reject the laws of a corrupt world.
But there's frustrating knot formed in his chest. He had spent years rooting for the pirates, seeing the Marines as nothing more than obstacles to freedom. But now that he was actually here, standing in this world, everything felt more complicated.
Not all pirates were good. Not all Marines were bad.
So where did that leave him?
Blizz exhaled sharply and shut his eyes.
It didn't matter right now. He wasn't strong enough to fight the Marines yet. He needed to focus. He needed to grow. He needed to become someone who could stand on his own, regardless of what side he chose to fight for.
For now, all he could do was train.
But one day, he would have to decide.