# A New Day, A New Life
Carmine stared out at the Marine vessel, his wooden peg tapping nervously against the dock. Something felt different today—like waking from a dream into another dream. Memories cascaded through his mind: a computer screen, checkboxes, points allocated to skills and powers. A "Character Creation" for... himself?
"I... filled out a CYOA?" he whispered, his mind reeling as two sets of memories merged seamlessly. The knowledge of his powers—not just the Devil Fruits he'd consumed, but deeper potential—crystallized in his mind. The Archmage Meta Essence and Inspired Inventor abilities hummed beneath his consciousness, ten fresh charges waiting to be spent.
His face broke into an uncontainable grin. With these powers combined, he could create and teach esoteric abilities beyond anything the Marines had seen. He could—
"Is something amusing, Doctor D. Isra?"
"EEEK!" Carmine jumped nearly a foot in the air, his peg leg wobbling precariously as he spun around with a startled squeak.
Vice Admiral Tsuru stood before him, her weathered face bearing the hint of amusement at his reaction.
"V-Vice Admiral Tsuru!" He saluted hastily, face flushing to match his crimson hair. "I wasn't... I mean... I didn't expect..."
"At ease, Doctor," she said, her voice carrying the calm authority of decades of service. "I requested you personally for this assignment."
"You... did?" Carmine blinked in surprise.
Tsuru nodded, beginning to walk along the dock. She gestured for him to follow. "Do you know how many doctors choose to join the Marines, Doctor D. Isra?"
"Not many, I'd imagine."
"A minuscule fraction of the medical practitioners across the world," she confirmed. "And fewer still possess your remarkable efficiency in medicine production. Your skills are invaluable to our fleet."
As they approached the gangplank, she turned to face him directly. "I want to thank you for choosing this path. Unlike civilian doctors who receive protection from all sides, Marine medical personnel are prime targets for pirates. Your service is not taken lightly."
Carmine smiled shyly, the praise warming him despite his nervousness around the legendary Vice Admiral. Then a thought struck him—one that seemed to come from both his old and new self simultaneously.
"Vice Admiral," he said, gathering his courage, "would it be possible... that is, I'd like to request combat training. To protect my patients in emergency situations, when guards might be overwhelmed."
Tsuru studied him with calculating eyes, as though reassessing his worth. After a long moment, she nodded.
"Very well. You will designate two of your bodies for combat training. The other four will focus on producing medicine for our allied ships. We sail at noon."
"Yes, ma'am!" Carmine saluted again, this time with genuine enthusiasm.
As Tsuru walked away, he closed his eyes, focusing inwardly on his newfound powers. He allocated his charges with deliberate care: two into White Magic from Final Fantasy, two into Herbal Medicine, two into Unarmed Combat, and four into Cooking.
Knowledge flooded his consciousness—healing spells, protective barriers, restorative techniques that transcended conventional medicine. His understanding of herbs and plants deepened exponentially, while combat movements became muscle memory across his bodies. And his culinary insight... it bordered on divine.
With a smile, he activated his Nido Nido ability, splitting into six identical bodies—each sporting the same wooden leg and crimson hair, but all ready for their separate tasks.
# Pills and Potions
In the makeshift laboratory aboard the Marine vessel, two of Carmine's bodies worked with practiced precision. His newly enhanced knowledge of herbal medicine transformed what would have been a day's work into mere hours of efficient production.
"Pass the aconite extract—just three drops," one Carmine instructed his other self, not even needing to look up from the mortar where he ground dried seaweed into a fine powder.
The second body handed over a small vial, already measuring the exact amount. "The fever reducers are finished. I've packaged forty doses."
Their movements flowed with newfound grace, despite their peg legs occasionally knocking against cabinet corners. Where before they might have produced a hundred doses in a day, now their hands blurred with efficient movement, producing remedies at an astonishing rate.
"These pain relievers are twice as potent with half the side effects," the first Carmine murmured, inspecting a vibrant blue liquid. "The Vice Admiral will be pleased."
"Not just that," his duplicate replied, carefully filling small capsules with a green powder. "Look at these." He held up several pills that shimmered with an almost unnatural clarity. "I've incorporated some of the new... techniques... we've learned."
Both bodies shared a knowing smile. These weren't just medicines—they carried traces of the White Magic knowledge he'd acquired, imbued with healing properties beyond conventional science.
By midday, they had produced enough medicine to supply three Marine battleships for months. Neatly labeled crates lined the walls of the laboratory, each one filled with treatments for everything from common colds to battlefield trauma.
A young Marine officer poked his head into the lab, eyes widening at the sight. "Doctor Isra, we were told you might have some supplies ready by the end of the week..."
The two Carmines smiled in unison. "We work quickly," they said together.
# Fists and Footwork
"Again!" Tsuru commanded, her voice carrying across the training deck.
Two more of Carmine's bodies, identical save for the sweat soaking their Marine uniforms, nodded in unison. They faced off against a pair of Marine recruits who looked increasingly uncomfortable about fighting someone with "Doctor" in their title.
"Don't hold back," one Carmine said, shifting his weight on his wooden leg. "I need to learn this properly."
The first recruit lunged forward with a straight punch. Three days ago, Carmine would have flinched and covered his face. Now, his body moved with surprising fluidity, sidestepping the attack with minimal movement and countering with a palm strike that stopped just short of the recruit's solar plexus.
Tsuru nodded approvingly. "Better. Your balance is improving."
The second recruit attempted a sweeping kick, targeting Carmine's wooden leg—a tactic many opponents would likely employ. Instead of toppling, this Carmine pivoted on his good leg, using the wooden one as a striking implement that stopped precisely at the recruit's temple.
"Impressive," Tsuru commented, approaching to correct his stance slightly. "Most fighters with your... impediment would avoid putting weight on their prosthetic. You're turning it into an advantage."
"Thank you, Vice Admiral," both Carmines replied, bowing respectfully.
"However," she continued, "you're still hesitating before striking vital points. In a real battle, that hesitation will cost lives—possibly your patients' lives."
The Carmines exchanged glances. "It's the physician's oath," one explained. "First, do no harm."
Tsuru's expression softened marginally. "Admirable. But remember this: sometimes the fastest way to save ten lives is to take one. I hope you never face such a choice, but if you do..."
"I understand," Carmine said quietly. "I'll work on it."
"Good. Now, show me that sequence again, and this time—" Tsuru moved with blinding speed, suddenly behind one of the Carmines, "—watch your back!"
# Feast Preparations
The galley of the Marine vessel was a flurry of activity as cooks prepared for departure, but two more of Carmine's bodies moved with a confidence that parted the chaos like a knife. With his newly enhanced culinary knowledge, he assessed the ship's provisions with expert eyes.
"These flour sacks," one Carmine said, running his fingers through a sample. "They've been stored too close to the sea. There's moisture damage."
The head cook, a burly man with a perpetually furrowed brow, scoffed. "They're fine. We've always—"
"Try this," the other Carmine interrupted, having already prepared a small biscuit. "And now this one." He offered a second biscuit made from different flour.
The cook's expression shifted from annoyance to surprise as he tasted both. "How did you... the second one is much better."
Carmine nodded. "Different storage area, away from the hull. We should reorganize the pantry accordingly."
Moving with purpose, the two bodies began inspecting every shelf and barrel, occasionally consulting with each other in half-sentences that no one else could follow. Where other crew members saw merely food, Carmine saw potential—combinations and preparations that would maximize nutrition while elevating taste to extraordinary levels.
"These dried fish—soak them in this herb mixture for twenty minutes before cooking," one Carmine instructed an assistant cook, handing over a small pouch of aromatic leaves. "The vitamin retention will increase threefold."
"And these vegetables," the other added, rearranging several crates, "should be consumed within the next three days. I can prepare a stew that will use them at peak nutrition."
The head cook, initially resistant to the doctor's presence in his domain, grew increasingly impressed as Carmine identified optimizations that had never occurred to him. By the time they finished inventory, he was eagerly taking notes as Carmine outlined meal plans for the coming voyage.
"With these preparations," Carmine explained, sketching a quick diagram of how to layer flavors in the ship's large cooking pots, "you'll reduce scurvy cases by half while improving morale through better-tasting meals."
"Where did you learn all this?" the cook asked, bewildered.
Carmine's duplicates shared a small smile. "I've always had an interest in nutrition," one said carefully. "It's an essential part of medicine, after all."
As they finished, one of the bodies produced a small loaf of bread that he'd quickly baked while the other was explaining the meal plans. He broke it into pieces, offering it to the galley staff.
The moment the bread touched their tongues, expressions of disbelief spread across their faces. It was simple bread—flour, water, salt—but somehow it tasted like the finest delicacy any of them had ever experienced.
"Doctor," the head cook said reverently, "I think you may have missed your calling."
Carmine laughed. "No, I'm exactly where I need to be. But I'm happy to help while I'm here."