One_pieces_sam

This is a story about a young adult who tragically dies because of a useless spotter, and is transmigrated into the world of one piece, come follow along and watch as he unravel more mysteries about his transmigration, himself and the world around him.

A Unique Beginning(A one piece story)

Chapter 6: Strength Means Nothing If You Can't Swing

Stepping out of the blacksmith's shop, I couldn't help but admire the warhammer in my hands. The weight felt good, but there was a big difference between holding a weapon and actually using it.

Zoro seemed to pick up on my thoughts. "So, what now?"

I exhaled. "Now? I need to learn how to use this thing."

"Then let's find a spot to train," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I wasn't about to argue with that.

We made our way out of town, past rows of buildings and out toward a clearing near the edge of a forest. The ground here was solid, the trees spaced far enough apart to give us plenty of room.

I hefted the warhammer, rolling my shoulders. "Alright… let's see what I'm working with."

Zoro sat on a nearby rock, arms crossed. "You ever used anything like that before?"

"Nope," I admitted. "Closest thing was a barbell."

Lifting the warhammer, I took a few test swings. Immediately, I realized something—this thing was heavy. Sure, I could lift it, but swinging it with any speed or control? Way harder than I expected.

The first swing was slow, awkward. The second had more power, but I nearly overbalanced and fell on my ass. The third was a little better, but not by much.

Zoro snorted. "Yeah, you've got a long way to go."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I grumbled.

"Just saying," he said. "Strength means nothing if you can't swing properly. You'll waste stamina and leave yourself open."

I sighed. He was right. I needed technique, not just raw power.

I adjusted my grip, lowering my stance. If I thought of it like a deadlift, keeping my core tight and driving power from my legs instead of just my arms—

The hammer struck the ground, sending dirt flying. That one felt better.

Zoro nodded slightly. "Now you're getting it."

Encouraged, I tried again, this time aiming for a thick tree trunk. I swung down hard—

The bark splintered on impact, but the hammer rebounded more than I expected, nearly yanking me off balance again.

Zoro smirked. "You need to account for recoil. You're not cutting through something like a sword. You're breaking it."

I took a breath, steadying myself. I needed to control my movements, not just swing wildly.

I adjusted my stance again, tightening my grip. This time, when I swung, I followed through, absorbing the impact instead of fighting against it.

The hammer slammed into the tree with a loud boom, sending cracks spiraling through the trunk.

Zoro stood up. "Not bad. Keep at it. You're not gonna master it in a day."

I wiped sweat from my forehead, already feeling the burn in my arms and shoulders. "Yeah, yeah… I'll keep going."

For the next few hours, I kept swinging. I adjusted, corrected my footing, learned how to control the hammer instead of letting it control me. My body ached, my muscles burned, but I felt myself improving little by little.

By the time the sun started setting, I was exhausted. My arms felt like jelly, and my legs weren't much better.

Zoro tossed me a canteen of water. "You lasted longer than I expected."

I took a deep sip, sighing. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're improving," he admitted. "But you've still got a long way to go."

I looked down at my warhammer, the weapon that would carry me forward in this world. Yeah, I had a lot to learn.

But for the first time in a while, I felt hopeful.