Heaven Has No Limit Chapter 9 - Era's Tour

Who were Katakuri’s opps?

“God… fuck… fuck.. Fuck that hurts!”

On an island, sizzling and smoking, Noah’s entire body was spazzing as his muscles were constantly contracting and seizing. The ground around him was completely pulverized and blackened. The air was thick with the smell of ozone. His hair was spiking outwards and upwards, as faint traces of electric current travelled up them.

Who the fuck are Katakuri’s opps?

It was a question Noah asked once, the first time he saw the Big Mom brat pull the bullshit that was Advanced Observation Haki. If Rayleigh was to be believed, then one could only acquire the more advanced form of Observation Haki when they were in the heat of battle against an incredibly strong opponent.

The question, thus, was, who were Katakuri’s opps? 

Who did he fight to figure out Future Vision?

It couldn’t be other Yonko Crews, because it was clear most were in a tsundere relationship with each other, having sucked milk from the same tit. Noah often clowned on the Nepo Hats, but the Nepo Piece was real, because three out of the Four Emperors were all former crewmates.

It was like if Sanji, Usopp, and Nami parted ways from the Straw Hats and decided to form their own crews. They’d be enemies on the surface, but that former camaraderie born through life-and-death battles would make it so they would never be true enemies. They would never be the ‘this beef is never gonna finish cooking’ enemies. They would never be the ‘either you die, or I die’ or ‘IT WAS ME, BARRY!’ type of enemies.

Noah could not see a world where Katakuri was out there fighting other Yonko Crew Top Tiers in battles to the death to hone his Observation Haki. 

So who the fuck were his opps?

Marines? No dice. It couldn’t be the Marine bums, because Marines tended to outright avoid conflict with Yonko Crews. Besides, the only true Marine top tiers were the Admirals and Vice Admirals, which couldn’t even be up to ten people if Noah was being generous.

Who the fuck are your opps, brah?

If Katakuri primarily stayed around his home like a 40-year-old virgin in his mom’s basement, there was no way he was traveling the New World. No way he was going blow-for-blow with strong opponents. Considering who his mom was, how many people in the New World would even have the balls to fight him seriously enough to want to kill him?

Unless he was fighting his own mother, which Noah doubted, given that woman was too busy being ran through all year long, Katakuri had been fighting fodders for over forty fucking years.

He was fighting fodders his entire life, fighting fodders his entire pirate career that spanned four decades, and the first top-tier he went up against was Pirate Jesus himself. If a man who fought fodder his entire pirate career managed to figure out Future Vision, then Rayleigh was full of shit.

Noah was doubly sure that Rayleigh was full of shit because Kaido was shown to have Future Vision. 

Who were Kaido’s opps?!

Who the fuck was Kaido fighting that could push him to the limit to need to advance his Observation Haki in the heat of battle? A guy who didn’t even use Observation Haki most of the time? A guy who would eventually have the list of people in the world even capable of harming him living rent-free in his head?

All the Top Tiers knew other Top Tiers and had few reasons to go all out against them, so who were Kaido’s opps? Who were Katakuri’s opps? 

No one.

There were no ‘strong opponents’ one needed to face. There was no ‘sudden realization in the heat of battle’ crap. Rayleigh was a Snake Oil Salesman sucking the Snakeman off to peddle more oil.

Haki would grow stronger in the middle of battle? 

Bullshit. Haki grows stronger in the middle of battle for YOU, my little Padawan. 

Noah scoffed.

The answer is the same as it’s always been.

Just. Fucking. Train.

Train, and train, and keep on training. Train in a situation where regular Observation Haki just did not cut it, and you needed the next step to be able to survive.

Another bolt of lightning fell, and Noah gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath as he dodged last minute. Two more fell almost identically, and he cartwheeled, kicking upwards with Rankyaku. A jet-black wind blade flew upwards, splitting the lightning bolt in half at the last minute, forcing it to divert paths before it struck him. He landed on the ground, coughing and hacking a bit of smoke, his entire body moving sluggishly from the remnant lightning bolt that caused his muscles to seize and contract.

Fuckin’ hell…

He was twitching, but Noah was grinning.

He had been struck by lightning ninety-six times now, in the course of his current training. The only reason he hadn’t died the first time, let alone all other times, was by coating his body in Armament Haki, hardening his muscles with Tekkai, and creating a thin layer of rapidly spinning water around his body with Fishman Jujutsu to function as a makeshift Faraday Cage. 

The three-fold layer of defense kept him alive, and the more times he was struck with lightning, somehow, the more his body grew accustomed to being fried by millions of volts. 

It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch, and it didn’t mean he was messing around. He would die if he was just a bit too slow in creating that protective layer. He would die if he lost concentration even for a single second.

He’d initially planned not to get struck even once, but dodging lightning twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, non-stop, without rest was a bitch of a task.

The first step to getting gud is to suck…

But man, I fucking hate the sucking part.

Noah ran his hand through his electrified hair. His body was constantly in survival mode. The tiniest glint of light, the tiniest flash, the slightest rumble, the softest of motion. His senses were so attuned to the minutiae of details in his environment, and his muscles were primed to move and react at the smallest provocation. Against the lightning rain, Observation Haki was more useless than bras on a teenage boy. Even so, Noah strained it to its absolute pinnacle, pushing it further and further, because that was the reason he was here.

It was the sole reason he came to Raijin Island.

To gain the Advanced Version of Observation Haki...

Future Vision. 

That was what he was here to learn.

And Noah would not leave until he learnt it.

Especially not after getting cooked by lightning so many times. If he left without getting it down, it would be a massive ratio.

Law 30 of the Forty-Eight Laws of Power…

Hide Your Aura Loss.

If no one sees you lose aura… 

You didn’t lose aura.

Noah took a deep breath. 

Another bolt of lightning came striking down.

Noah grinned. 

“COME ON! NO LIMIT! NO STOPPING!”

=====)+(=====

In Marineford, an elderly woman, clad in a white Marine coat, stepped into a canteen. Several Marine Officers immediately saluted, though a few others immediately kept their distance.

The old woman paid no heed to it, to those who eked away quietly, to those who stared, those who clicked their tongues quietly under their breaths, shooting gazes of pity, and those who mumbled a few words they believed were too low to be heard.

“Is that…?”

“She’s the one…”

“I can’t believe it…  those bastards… the rumors must be false…”

“No, it's true…”

“But… at her age…?”

“Celestial Dragons do whatever they want…”

The old woman paid no heed to the voices, the mumbles, and the complaints. She was, however, overtly aware of them, and overtly aware of the slow, gradual decline in her reputation, ever since she had been tasked to run several ‘errands’ for a Celestial Dragon.

She, along with those directly under her command, was aware that it was just that, running errands. However, the reputation of Celestial Dragons was simply too atrocious for anyone to believe that it was the case. The vast majority were under the impression that ‘running errands’ was a euphemism of some sort. 

Imaginations went rampant. Many suspected, whilst others outright believed she had been enslaved, abused, and tortured by a Celestial Dragon, and was still a plaything to them.

Tsuru could not blame them. The question that she had asked, that others, too, had asked, was simple:

Why her?

They had come, however, to completely different answers. Whereas Tsuru did not know why the Saint had chosen her to run his errands, the vast majority of the Marines believed he had ‘chosen’ her because she was the sole female Vice Admiral.

Asking the highest-ranking female Marine officer to ‘run errands’ meant only one thing in the eyes of many.

Knowing what Celestial Dragons were like, individuals who could shoot others at whim, at will, and take any woman they pointed to as a wife, Tsuru could not blame anyone for the misunderstanding. Such a misunderstanding was only expected.

Tsuru had been expecting worse of the tasks the Saint had her do. She had been waiting for the horrible deeds that would be expected of her, for the acts and travesties she would have to commit, for her soul, damned as it was, to dive headfirst into a pit of darkness and never return.

Yet it had not come.

Beyond retrieving Lineage Factors from Impel Down and delivering a few things like a courier to Vinsmoke Judge… that was all. 

Nothing was tasked of her that went against her brand of Justice. She had not been asked to raze down any villages, nor to kill any innocents, nor to massacre by the thousands. She had not been asked to commit any crimes or do anything that negatively affected normal, everyday people.

Rather, on the contrary, she received fewer ‘orders’ from above, because it was assumed, incorrectly, that she was always busy on a task given by the Celestial Dragon, which meant she had more freedom to do as she wished than before.

She herself had not expected the ‘errand running’ to be literal errand runs, and had not expected the tasks to be so banal and mundane, so how could she blame anyone for thinking that she was not living through hell serving a Celestial Dragon? 

Tsuru had always known that some Celestial Dragons could be reasoned with, and not all were unnecessarily ignorant, cruel, and evil, as that man from the Doflamingo family proved, but it was rare.

So rare, one always had to imagine the worst-case scenario with them, only to find that what they did was even worse than that.

Tsuru gathered herself a meal from the canteen and sat calmly and quietly. She could have taken the meal with her back to her office, but eating in canteens and mess halls provided rare, unusual memories of the earlier days of her career, when things were not as it was now.

As she slowly ate her soup, a large, top-heavy man sat opposite her, his head covered with a dog-like mask, his arms crossed, and his act of sitting bringing down so much force that Tsuru heard the bench crack.

“Is it true?”

The concern in his tone took her by surprise.

“I can—”

“I can handle my affairs just fine, Garp.”

In truth, the last thing Tsuru needed was getting the Hero of the Marines involved in this mess. Garp’s reputation was meant to act as a deterrent; he was a person not even the Celestial Dragons could get to move, shouldering burdens and acting as a shield for many. However, Tsuru would rather not get him involved if possible.

Her intuition told her that Garp getting involved would be… bad.

Bad for him.

“The things I’ve been hearing aren’t good.”

“You’ve never been the sort to pay any attention to rumors.”

“If you need my help, Tsuru, I can save you from—”

“We’re a little too old for such routines, Garp,” Tsuru laughed. “I haven’t been a damsel who needs saving in years, and you aren’t exactly a young dashing hero either.”

Tsuru slowly blew on her soup.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need it.”

Garp was quiet.

“You wouldn’t follow orders from one of those bastards without a good reason.”

Garp would not let it be. He was stubborn, that way. A stubborn old fool. Slowly, she took a deep breath.

“...He threatened my family. My granddaughter.”

Something in Garp changed at the mention of her granddaughter, but Tsuru could not tell what.

“How did he—”

“I don’t know how he found out,” she said. “I don’t know. I believe CP0 had something to do with it. One of the agents reportedly answers directly to him,” Tsuru shook her head. “I think they have files on us. Our families. It’s the only explanation.”

Garp looked strangely nervous. Tsuru took another spoonful of her soup to her lips.

“They already know about your son.”

“I… have a grandson.”

The spoon stopped at her mouth.

“Congratulations,” Tsuru said, smiling. “If the boy is with his father, then, he’s certainly far safer than my—”

“He’s not with him.”

“…He’s not?”

Garp shook his head.

“Where is he?”

Garp remained quiet. He had an expression on his face that he only ever had when he’d done something she’d chastise him for.

“Where is your grandson, Garp?”

As he told her, Tsuru began to realize that the greatest lie ever told by the elderly was that wisdom was a thing that came with age. Because Garp had just confessed to her the most unwise decision she had ever heard.

=====)+(=====

“It’s starting!”

“Quickly, let’s go see it!”

The Marines aboard the Government Ship hurriedly marched out of the mess halls and their rooms onto the deck, as the hands of the clock struck closer to eight in the morning. They had been docked off the coast of Raijin Island for the past seven weeks, because they had been told they would be staying here because the Saint, the Celestial Dragon, Noah, had business on the Island.

Many had no desire to embark on the Island, and a few brave and arguably foolishly curious souls who had done so had been struck by lightning rain almost immediately, dying as if they had earned the wrath of an omnipotent deity and had proceeded to be smote for their hubris. 

Exactly one week ago, the Saint had given an instruction, that there would be something to see, on this day, at this time, calling it a sight that would never be forgotten. He claimed it was a scene which these sailors would enjoy and carry with them for the rest of their lives. It was enough to motivate them all to quickly see what the hassle was.

That, and, there was a thinly veiled threat that anyone who didn't see it would be shot.

In the crow’s nest, checking his watch, Guernika jotted down the time and gazed out into the distance, almost shaking his head.

If it were not that I could see this myself, I would not believe it…

When musical instruments had been stocked aboard the ship as part of the ‘necessities,’ Guernika had not understood it, and, as with many things Saint Noah did, Guernika did not question it. His role was to obey, not to question. To his amazement, however, he never conceived that one of the musical instruments would be used in such a manner. The fact that it was used in such a manner baffled him.

If he was baffled, one could not imagine how completely mystified the ordinary Marines had been when they had first borne witness to this sight.

“Is—Is that the Saint?!”

“Where?”

“Look! Up there!”

At exactly eight-thirty, hopping in the air over Raijin Island, Saint Noah stood, directly, in the midst of a lightning storm as bolts of lightning fell all around him.

In his right hand was a guitar, one of the instruments asked to have been put on the board; affixed to it was a lightning rod. 

With perfect, tiny, micromovements, he dodged the lightning rain being attracted to the lightning rod from all corners, tilting his head, then tilting his body, then tilting and swaying with almost casual indifference.

There, in the air, Saint Noah strummed.

Soundwaves from the guitar travelled through the air, augmented and amplified by the Haki of the Supreme King.

Guernika, as a member of CP0, had read reports that some individuals with that Haki could spread it for dozens of kilometers, suppressing the will of hundreds at once… but imbuing such a thing into sound waves? 

There was no one, nowhere, on the island or its surroundings who would not be able to hear his guitar strumming. Even if one was at least a hundred knots away, they would have heard it.

“Just a young gun,

With a quick fuse,

I was uptight, wanna let loose…

I was dreaming of bigger things and

Wanna leave my old life behind…”

A Celestial Dragon strummed a guitar in the air above an island that endlessly rained lightning. He danced with the lightning rain, moving, singing, and strumming, using the never-ending claps of thunder as drumbeats to a musical melody. Lightning fell, and he swayed. His hands blurring with Soru, the soundwaves bursting forward with an amplification force that made it clear to all.

“Not a ‘Yes, sir,’ not a follower

Fit the box, fit the mold, have a seat

In the foyer, take a number

I was lightning…

Before the thunder…!”

KER-KRAAK!

A heavy thunderclap roared across the sky. 

Saint Noah shredded the guitar.

“THUNDER!

Feel the thunder!

Lightning, then the thunder!

Thunder, feel the thunder!

Lightning, then the thunder!

Thunder!”

As though they'd all been possessed, as though gripped by some form of otherworldly force, or perhaps, by the power of the Supreme King Haki that augmented the music, the crew on the deck began to sing along to Saint Noah’s song.

Cheers and and shouts of ‘Thunder!’ filled the air with each thunderclap.

Guernika saw the entire thing and could not help that twitch on his lips.

Whatever it was Saint Noah pursued, he pursued with a mania that could never be understood by someone like Guernika, who lacked the ambitions of the King. What he did understand was that a Celestial Dragon playing a guitar in the air above an island while dodging lightning rain was a sight that would be eternally seared into his eyeballs. 

The Marines on deck below were utterly captivated. Not only was the music, the song, oddly catchy, with a melody and rhythm unlike anything they had heard before. The performance possessed a transfixing ambience that made it impossible for anyone to look away. 

It was pure, unbridled, unabashed spectacle.

One of the slaves from the Isle of Women, the one called Boa Hancock, was at the forefront, with hearts in her eyes, cheering the loudest of them all.

Yet, therein lay the power of one with the Color of the Supreme King. His every action, his every deed, radiated an addictive charisma that compelled one to either follow him or support him. Every single Marine on this ship had, whether they knew it or not, become supporters and fans of Saint Noah.

Guernika shook his head, chuckling.

If they knew just how difficult this task is…

Saint Noah’s performance was, at first glance, a mere performance, and it belied an underlying mastery of Rokushiki Arts and the utilization of all three Colors of Haki. 

Besides that girl from Amazon Lily, Guernika was the only one aware, perhaps, of the difficulty of the task ongoing.

Saint Noah strumming and amplifying the soundwaves of both his voice and the guitar with the Color of the Supreme King. He was using Geppo on his feet, constantly kicking off against the air to remain airborne, and Soru on his wrists to strum the guitar, while his fingers were coated with the Color of Armament, and relying on the principles of Shigan. 

At the same time, he was focusing on evading endless lightning bolts falling his way by relying on the Color of Observation. Those that managed to come too close to the Guitar, he evaded using Kami-e, smoothly moving as if he was paper floating on the wind.

This performance was proof of his training. The utilization of varying disparate elements of the Rokushiki Arts and the Three Colors of Haki, all used seamlessly together under high-focus conditions, where life and death could be determined with a single mistake.

Yet, when Saint Noah did it, it appeared effortless.

There, Guernika suspected, was the goal. 

Effortlessness. 

Rather than only utilizing such abilities in combat, relying purely on combat to grow them, by familiarizing himself with using them in non-combat but maximal-focus situations, it would translate directly, if not better, in actual combat situations. 

If a musician had mastered how to play the piano, he would not suddenly forget how to play even if he was on a battlefield with cannon fire blasting all around him. Shutting out the entire world, focusing only on his artistry, his music, entering into a ‘zone’ that did not allow for thoughts of success or failure, but simply trusting in his skills, and in the process.

“Kids were laughin' in my classes

While I was schemin' for the masses

Who do you think you are?

Dreaming 'bout being a big star?

They say, “You're basic," they say, “You're easy."

You're always riding in the backseat

Now I'm smilin' from the stage while

You were clappin' in the nosebleeds…”

KER-KRAAAK!

The Marines joined in the singing.

“THUNDER!

Feel the thunder!

Lightning, then the thunder!

Thunder! Feel the thunder!

Lightning, then the thunder!”

“WOO!”

With a final strum of his guitar, one that sent a burst of Conqueror’s Haki around him, Saint Noah coated his hand with Armament Haki and punched upwards. A sonic boom followed, shattering the incoming thunderbolts, and dispersing the clouds above in varying directions, creating massive gusts and winds that traveled in all corners. The ship rocked, the winds forced the sails open, forced people to grab on to objects, made hats fly off into the sea, hair whip back, and coats fluttered wildly and uncontrollably. 

As the winds began to settle, for the first time, the Island which endured endless lightning bolts—

Saw the rays of the sun.

Beautiful, elegant rays of morning sun bathed down on a boy in the sky, dressed in white.

A boy with a single hand, a single finger, raised skywards.

The boat was completely, utterly silent.

Then, there was an uproar.

“Saint Noah!”

“You’re the best, SAINT!”

“Encore! Encore!”

The screams were so deafening even Guernika couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle.

…He continues to amaze me.

Saint Noah was aware of that weakness of the Color of Observation, the way one could bypass it, and had chosen a training method that did not rely on detecting intent, which was coming to an island that endlessly rained lightning. By training his Color of Observation under circumstances that directly countered its sole weakness, he would either alleviate or eliminate that weakness and present an unpleasant surprise for anyone who intended to use that weakness against him.

The only question was how?

How does one use the Color of Observation to avoid attacks that lacked intent?

Could it be… Emotion Sensing?

Guernika dismissed it. That particular aspect of the Color of Observation was said to be incredibly rare, in that it allowed one to sense the emotions of others around them. Some people were outright born with such an ability, and according to the information network possessed by CP0, one notable individual born with it was the current Queen of Fishman Island. 

However, even if Saint Noah did possess Emotion Sensing, lightning had no emotions.

Then… Is it… that fabled technique? The one less than a fraction of all those with Observation Haki ever learn?

Can Saint Noah…

See the future?

Guernika laughed.

Just how much further could the Saint grow?

Guernika did not know.

But that was why he was following him. This performance was just all the more proof that confirmed it.

He was watching the rise of the one who would shape this Era.