[Word Count: 550]
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Chapter 5: Age Five – The First Copy
It began with a scream.
A hunter stumbled into the village square at dawn, one arm missing, blood soaking his fur-lined coat. His eyes rolled back before he collapsed on the stone steps of the shrine.
> "Bandits," someone whispered.
> "They crossed the southern ridge."
> "They're not here for food. They're here for bodies."
Three villagers died that day.
One of them was a man named Rako, an old war veteran who lived on the outskirts of town. Drank too much. Spoke too little. Trained alone in silence every evening with a dull blade—until the end.
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The First Taste of Blood
Kaizen stood over Rako's corpse after the fighting.
He hadn't meant to find the body.
But he had.
The air was heavy. The earth had soaked red where Rako fell.
Kaizen knelt beside the old man. Something in the blood shimmered.
And in that moment—
He felt it.
A pulse.
A shift.
Memories that weren't his. Movements his body didn't recognize but now understood.
He blinked. Then stood.
He picked up Rako's blade. Held it like he'd done it for years.
And slashed at the air.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
Each cut was perfect.
> "This… this is new."
His fingers trembled.
But not from fear.
From hunger.
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A Glimpse of Power
Later that night, he snuck to the riverside.
There, alone, he mimicked every strike, every stance Rako had ever shown in life—except now, he felt them in his bones. It wasn't mimicry.
It was memory.
> "I killed no one," he whispered.
> "But still… I stole it."
He didn't know it yet, but the Copy-Copy Fruit had begun to awaken.
The trigger?
> Death.
Even proximity to death triggered the first fragments of power—fragments of combat experience soaked in blood and regret.
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Aiyona's Test
When Aiyona found him, Kaizen had cut five precise slashes into a tree—each one in the shape of a fang.
> "What are you doing?" she asked.
> "Remembering someone who's gone," he said.
> "Why?"
> "Because I'm not strong enough to forget him yet."
She stared at him.
And noticed something in his stance—a calculated poise, something inhumanly refined.
> "You're different today," she whispered.
> "So are you," he said. "You didn't cry during the bandit attack."
> "You smiled during it," she said.
Silence.
Then, a soft giggle between them.
Like broken children playing adults.
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The Mark of Paramecia
At midnight, his body ached.
He collapsed near the shrine, feverish.
Memories not his own began invading his dreams. Rako's battles. His regrets. His final thoughts.
He saw a black, swirled fruit pulsing deep inside his mind. Bitten. Digested. Hidden.
> "So… I was reborn with one," he realized, sweating under the weight of revelation.
> "No wonder I was chosen."
He didn't know the fruit's name.
He didn't know its rules.
But he understood this:
> "If someone dies near me… I steal what made them dangerous."
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End of Chapter Cliffhanger: The Next Kill
A week later, another body washed ashore.
A pirate. Young. Bloody. Still breathing.
Kaizen watched from the trees as villagers dragged her body to the healer's hut.
She had a mark on her neck—the sign of a Devil Fruit user.
Kaizen's eyes glimmered.
> "She's not dead yet," he whispered.
> "But she will be."
Behind him, Aiyona's voice came softly:
> "Should I sharpen the knife?"
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