Three days ter, Qin Hong slowly opened his eyes in his room. The excruciating pain radiating through his body made him regret waking up at all. Carefully pulling back the covers, he discovered yer upon yer of bandages wrapped around his torso and limbs. When he gingerly touched the wounds on his leg and back, he was surprised—though a dull ache remained, the speed of his recovery was nothing short of miraculous.

  Just then, Guann pushed the door open and stepped inside. Seeing Qin Hong awake, his expression softened with relief. "You're up. Stay lying down," he said, pulling up the wooden stool from the desk and settling beside the bed.

  Qin Hong struggled to piece together his memories. "How did I get back? And how long has it been?"

  "Three days. I carried you here," Guann replied, flipping through the pages of the bck-bound book Qin Hong had been transcribing. He moved the topmost page to the bottom of the stack and continued reading.

  Suddenly, a memory fshed in Qin Hong’s mind. In his excitement, he cpped his hands together without thinking—only to feel a sharp sting as fresh blood seeped through the bandages on his back. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he ignored it, his face alight with triumph.

  "I activated Absolute Domain!"

  Guann slowly set the papers aside. "That wasn’t Absolute Domain."

  The excitement drained from Qin Hong’s face, repced by confusion. "Then… what was it?"

  "Most likely a derivative ability," Guann expined. "That spatial field you created drained nearly all of your energy."

  Qin Hong nodded slowly, processing this. "A derivative ability… That expins why the same Devil Fruit can manifest differently depending on the user."

  "Exactly," Guann agreed. "When you die, yours will be recorded in this book too. For now, rest." He stood to leave but paused at the door. "There’s medicine on the table. Take it."

  Qin Hong eyed the bottle of white powder suspiciously. "What kind of medicine is this?"

  "Rotwing Mantis wings," Guann said ftly before shutting the door behind him.

  Qin Hong wondered if he’d misheard. He carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as he limped to the table. Picking up the gss bottle, he hesitated before unscrewing the cap—only to recoil as a pungent, fishy odor assaulted his nostrils. Curiosity won out. Pinching a small amount between his fingers, he tossed it into his mouth.

  Instantly, his mouth went bone-dry. The powder was vile—bitter, metallic, and utterly revolting. He gagged, scrambling for the water cup on the table and gulping it down. Even diluted, the taste clung to his tongue, making him shudder.

  *This is disgusting! How is this even edible?*

  But as he set the cup down, something remarkable happened. A warmth spread through his body, soothing his aches, and a surge of energy revitalized him. Staring at the powder with newfound appreciation, he murmured, "Incredible… Absolutely incredible."

  Over the next few days, Qin Hong kept busy transcribing *Saya’s Bck Book*. One entry in particur caught his attention—a Devil Fruit called "Heart of Replication." Strangely, no user was recorded.

  *Has no one ever possessed this ability before?*

  The description was cryptic: *"To possess everything is to possess nothing."* Qin Hong scratched his head, baffled. Before he could ponder further, Guann’s voice called him outside.

  Guann handed him freshly cleaned training gear and weighted clothing. Qin Hong frowned as he hefted the equipment. "Did these get heavier? Or is it just because I haven’t worn them in a while?"

  "Psychological," Guann said with a faint smile. "Don’t forget—you still haven’t completed your st mission."

  Nodding, Qin Hong returned to his room to prepare. Moments ter, he activated Spatial Leap, reappearing at the site where he’d sin the giant serpent. As expected, the colossal carcass remained, though scavengers had made considerable progress. Hundreds of Rotwing Mantises would still need weeks to consume it entirely.

  Standing atop the serpent’s skull, Qin Hong scanned the area. Aside from a few scattered predators, the mantises were nowhere in sight. *They must be nocturnal.* Checking the time on his earring device, he noted two hours until sunset. He leapt back to the cabin to fetch the cart, but pulling it proved far more strenuous than before. Dismissing it as lingering weakness, he pressed on.

  Meanwhile, inside the cabin, Guann sparred with ten Shadow Dancers while Iliya lounged on the sofa, watching the spectacle like a live-action fight scene. Two dancers lunged at Guann—one with a sweeping kick, the other with a straight punch. Guann blocked the kick with his right arm while catching the fist with his left, yanking the attacker off-bance and hurling him backward. A swift kick to the second dancer’s supporting leg sent him crashing to the floor.

  Three more Shadow Dancers leapt at Guann from behind, swords drawn. Lightning crackled around Guann’s hand, coalescing into a crackling bde. A single ssh sent all three back to the shadows, while a fourth met a charred end from a casual bolt.

  Taking a seat beside Iliya, Guann sipped his tea. "I never asked—how did you convince that pyromaniac to join you?"

  Iliya blinked. "You mean Bze Bate? No one invited him. He invited himself."

  Guann’s eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? Then how did that hotheaded fool even hear about the ‘Heart of Space-Time’?"

  Iliya curled into his p like a contented cat. "No idea~ He showed up one day demanding to join. You know how he is—unstable as his fmes."

  Guann smirked. "And?"

  "And I *was* going to rip his heart out~" Iliya giggled, miming the act. "But then he offered to bring the ‘Heart of Space-Time’ as tribute!"

  "Too bad Qin Hong ate it first," Guann teased.

  Iliya buried her face in his chest, whining. "I should’ve just taken the ‘Heart of Fmes’ instead~ So annoying~"

  Guann chuckled but said nothing more, his gaze drifting to the window where Qin Hong bored. *What is Bze Bate really after?*

  As dusk fell, Qin Hong perched in a tree overlooking the serpent’s remains. A rustling in the forest signaled the Rotwing Mantises’ arrival. Dozens of them took to the skies, their wings humming like a swarm of locusts. The sheer number made Qin Hong’s pulse quicken.

  Watching them descend upon the carcass, Qin Hong steeled himself. A spatial rift opened behind the feasting mantises. The moment he stepped through, five mantises whirled around, their scythe-like forearms raised.

  *Their reflexes are insane!*

  Qin Hong clenched his fist, sealing the rift. Three mantises lunged, their scythes fshing. But Qin Hong remained calm. As the bdes neared his throat, power surged from his heart to his palm.

  "Freeze!"

  A hemispherical energy field erupted around him, expanding outward. The three mantises slowed to a crawl, suspended mid-air. Qin Hong summoned Voidpiercer and drove it through their chests. Retreating two steps, he counted:

  "Four… five."

  On "five," time resumed. The mantises completed their strikes—only to crumple, purple blood gushing from fatal wounds. Qin Hong dismissed the "Prison of Sughter," but exhaustion immediately weighed on him.

  *The energy cost is brutal.*

  The remaining two mantises spread their wings to flee. Qin Hong appeared between them in a fsh. Their reflexive scythe swings met another "Freeze!"—locking them in stasis. After dispatching them, Qin Hong realized the field moved *with* him.

  *It’s centered on me!*

  Later, a spatial rift opened in the cabin’s kitchen. Qin Hong emerged, arms den with ten pairs of translucent wings, each nearly a meter long. Guann, smoking by the counter, gestured to a grinder. "Bottles are in the cupboard."

  Qin Hong shredded the wings, ground them into powder, and packed them into gss jars. Between spoonfuls, he asked eagerly, "What’s my next mission?"

  Guann exhaled smoke. "Transcribe. Pull the cart."

  And with that, he left Qin Hong to his work.

  Though baffled, Qin Hong obeyed. For the next month and a half, his life became a loop: wake up, transcribe, pull the cart, sleep—repeat. Every day, he asked Guann when he’d get a *real* mission, only to hear the same reply:

  "Transcribe. Pull the cart."

  Finally, one afternoon, Qin Hong snapped. He dropped the cart’s ropes and whirled on Guann.

  "How long am I doing this?! What’s the point of these mindless tasks?!"

  "Tired? Rest. Then keep going," Guann said calmly.

  "That’s not the point!" Qin Hong roared.

  Guann’s gaze sharpened. "Then what *is*?"

  Qin Hong paced, counting off his frustrations. "Every day—wake up, transcribe, pull the cart, sleep! I know *exactly* what I’ll be doing tomorrow, next week, even where this damn cart will be at 2 PM! It’s meaningless!"

  Guann stood from the porch bench. "Then what *has* meaning? Does your *life* have meaning?!"

  The question struck Qin Hong speechless. Guann grabbed his colr, dragging him to a field of wildgrass.

  "Look!" He flung Qin Hong to the ground. "These grasses—who counts them? Who cares when they sprout or wither? Their lives st months. What meaning is there? Some grow taller, some bloom—so what? They’re forgotten in a gnce."

  Kneeling, Guann locked eyes with him. "Meaning isn’t given. It’s *made*. In your fleeting, insignificant existence, you cw purpose into being."

  Qin Hong’s defiance crumbled. In twenty-odd years, he’d never pondered life’s meaning—nor realized how closely his own resembled these grasses.

  Seeing the hollow look in Qin Hong’s eyes, Guann recognized the threshold he’d crossed—the plunge into nihilism. It was a cruel awakening, like showing a dog air conditioning te in life. Once known, its absence becomes unbearable.

  Remembering his own descent—guided by Boros—Guann knew rebirth from the void required personal struggle. Without suffering, resilience couldn’t take root.

  Standing, he said softly, "Tomorrow’s sunrise is as precious as today’s sunset. Whether you continue this ‘meaningless’ work… is your choice."

  And with that, he walked away, leaving Qin Hong amidst the whispering grass.