A Glitch in Reality - Chapter 0017

Chapter 17

The morning light had already filled the apartment, forcing its way through the thin curtains and spreading in wide puddles across the floor. The air inside was still, heavy with the sour smell of the previous night’s beer mixed with the sweet, chemical odor of the cocaine blocks still wrapped on the table, and the metallic smell of the oil from the Glock that Jack had disassembled and cleaned earlier. He stood beside the table, tall and thin, his long, pale fingers moving each component of the pistol with a precision that grew stronger each day. The suit clung to his body with that familiar grip, the Neural Synergy pulsed softly beneath, like a second beat monitoring his own mood.

Kevin was sprawled on the olive-green sofa, one of his thick feet crossed over the other, poking at the cold remains of scrambled eggs on his plate with his fork. His face still bore the weight of a hangover—his eyes swollen, his forehead slightly damp, his poorly trimmed red beard more disheveled than usual—but his brown eyes moved between the remnants of the drugs and his friend with an energy that the night had barely managed to extinguish.

On the edge of the table, the +1 dagger rested in its sheath, its almost imperceptible runes catching the light whenever someone moved nearby. And in the center, as always, dominating the space: the thick gold chains, the ostentatious rings, the designer watch. Six thousand two hundred dollars in gleaming excess, taken from a man who wouldn’t return to claim it.

‘These jewels,’ Kevin said, pointing with his fork, his hoarse voice carrying the mixture of street smarts and genuine curiosity that defined him, ‘do you think the system sees them the same way it sees money? Or does gold have a different weight for it? Some kind of cosmic record of its own?’

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his wide knees, the sofa creaking with the movement. A drop of sweat trickled down his temple, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, leaving a faint trail of egg crumbs.

Jack didn’t answer immediately. He reached out and gathered the jewels into a compact pile. The metal was cold and heavy against his skin—a real, tangible weight that betrayed the drug dealer’s vanity and the violence that had financed it all. Neural Synergy subtly amplified his perception: the faint metallic smell of the chains, the soft click of the watch clasp as he turned it, the warmth that began to build in his palm as his concentration deepened.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his voice low. “But we’ll find out.”

He closed his eyes. His breathing regulated, the humid air of the apartment penetrating deeply—moldy walls, the distant salt of the port, the ghost of the previous night’s celebration. The familiar electric sensation surged in his hand, warmer this time, more insistent, like wires of energy woven into gold. Minutes dragged on. Sweat appeared on his forehead, trickled down the sharp line of his chin, the veins in his forearm bulging as his suit helped support the effort.

Kevin remained silent. The forgotten fork. His brown eyes widened slightly, the thick fingers of one hand tapping irregularly on his knee. The apartment seemed to have shrunk.

Then the jewels disappeared.

A gentle, almost inaudible shift of air, and the table was different. Where the gold had been, there was a small, discreet bag of thick fabric, quite full, its cord stretched taut. Jack’s eyes suddenly opened, his green irises gleaming with surprise. He exhaled sharply, and his shoulders slumped with relief.

“Shit,” she muttered, reaching for her bag. The fabric was rough against her fingers, heavier than she had expected. She pulled the drawstring.

The holographic interface materialized on the table, the blue text floating in the air. Jack held his breath and picked up the notebook beside the dagger, the pen running across the pages with the compressed precision of someone who knows that every detail matters.

Senzu Beans — Legendary Consumable

A small bean cultivated by spiritual masters. Despite its simple appearance, it contains enough concentrated vital energy to completely restore a warrior on the verge of death.

Rarity: Legendary — Type: Unique Consumable — Weight: Insignificant — Value: Priceless

Main Effect — Full Recovery: Upon consuming a Senzu Bean, the user instantly recovers 100% of their health, 100% of their energy, mana, chakra, or equivalent resource, all levels of physical fatigue, common injuries such as cuts, burns, and fractures, and exhaustion caused by combat or training. The user is considered to have rested for several full days.

Complete Nutrition: A single Senzu Bean provides enough nutrients to sustain an adult human for up to 10 days, temporarily eliminating hunger and weakness caused by malnutrition.

Jack finished writing with the pen, pressing hard enough to leave marks. He reached into the bag and his fingers closed around small, firm shapes. He pulled slowly—one at a time at first, then a handful. Ten perfect green pods in the palm of his hand, inconspicuous but radiating a faint, vital warmth that seemed to pulse against his skin. They smelled faintly of earth and something cleaner, almost herbal, like the freshness of vegetation after the rain.

A genuine smile spread across Jack’s face. Not the tense smile of analysis or the weary look of daily life—a smile that reached his eyes, igniting something rare within them. The ostentatious jewelry of a paranoid drug dealer, the kind used to impress subordinates, had generated something priceless. It wasn’t a weapon this time. It was survival. Renewal. Fuel for whatever brutal path this fused world of corporate “heroes” and cosmic threats decided to throw in front of them.

“Ten,” he said softly, his voice hoarse with a silent triumph, holding the beans up for Kevin to see. He twirled one between his fingers, feeling its firm, almost living texture. “The system didn’t just take the gold. It gave us a lifeline.”

Kevin’s eyes widened, his round cheeks lifting into a broad smile despite the lingering hangover. He let out a long, low whistle, leaning forward so far that the sofa protested. “Damn, man. Not bad for a bunch of shiny trinkets from that idiot’s safe.” The hoarse laugh echoed through the room, genuine and relieved, breaking the morning silence. “You look like you won the lottery.”

Jack carefully closed his fist around the beans, the bag resting on the table like a promise. The weight of the morning enveloped him—not exactly euphoria, but a solid, firm determination, the kind that comes from seeing the system confirm what he had wagered on.

His fingers still inside the bag, Jack looked at the two large blocks of duct tape in the center of the table. Forty thousand dollars worth of pure product. His analytical mind had been calculating this since he woke up: the jewelry had yielded more than expected, but the blocks were the biggest bet. He picked them up by the first one, his fingers closing around the dense, compacted weight. His skin felt the slightly sticky coolness of the plastic. The sweet smell intensified as he lifted it.

He closed his eyes again. His breathing was harder to regulate this time—the scale of what was being offered was different, and the Neural Synergy responded to the tension with a more intense pulse, stabilizing where the effort threatened to shift. The electric tingling returned with more force, rising up his arm like liquid fire. Sweat broke out at his hairline and trickled down his temples as five long minutes dragged on. Kevin made no sound. The only noise was the distant murmur of traffic in the harbor and the soft creaking of the sofa as he moved, his thick fingers clenched in anticipation.

The package disappeared.

Jack’s hand suddenly felt light, almost weightless. He slowly opened his eyes.

There was a piece of fruit on the table.

A brown shell with a segmented white core, its shape vaguely resembling a pineapple but more compact, denser, with a presence that wasn’t exactly physical but captured attention in the same way a knife on a table does. Recognition struck Jack even before the holographic form materialized—memories of late-night forums, debates about power structures, the systematic absurdity of certain items in a universe already overflowing with monsters.

The interface appeared bright over the fruit.

Buta Buta no Mi — Boar Fruit
Origin: One Piece — Type: Devil Fruit — Category: Zoan — Rarity: Rare

Description: A mysterious Devil Fruit that grants its user the power to transform into a wild boar or a powerful hybrid form between human and boar. Upon consuming this fruit, the user abandons their ordinary human condition and becomes a Boar-Man, acquiring the instincts, senses, and physical capabilities of one of nature’s most resilient and ferocious animals.

Weaknesses: Like all Devil Fruits, the Buta Buta no Mi has significant weaknesses. Weakness to the Sea: upon contact with large amounts of water or when submerged, the user progressively loses strength, becoming unable to move properly. Kairoseki: contact with Kairoseki completely drains the user’s energy, nullifying their abilities and leaving the body as weak as that of an ordinary person.

Jack didn’t need the notebook this time. He wrote each line separately. He picked up the fruit with both hands, feeling the dense, slightly elastic weight of the peel. The white segments contrasted with the earthy brown and caught the morning light in an almost mineral way. A slow smile spread across his face, deepening the lines of exhaustion into something sharper—victorious. It was no longer a tool. It was a leap. One bite, and any man could be remade into something much stronger, faster, more resilient. A Zoan. In a world of Viltrumites, Vought psychopaths, and street carnage, this singular fruit could catapult someone into a completely different league.

The laugh that escaped him was low and rare, his narrow shoulders shaking once as he let go. ‘Good luck smiled on us twice this morning,’ he said, almost to himself.

Then he turned his eyes to Kevin and found him already leaning forward, his thick hands on his knees, his face flushed with curiosity and hangover combined. Kevin was observing the fruit with narrowed eyes, his beard scratched with the back of his knuckles.

“Jack… what is this? You didn’t even open the notebook. You showed up without any explanation.” The hoarse voice carried the caution of someone who had learned to respect forces that neither of them fully understood. “Is it just another thing from the system?”

Jack turned, the morning light capturing the angles of his face and the faint iridescent sheen of his suit with the movement. His green eyes were alive in a way Kevin rarely saw—the euphoria from the beans still present, now amplified by something clearly of another magnitude. He lifted the fruit slightly, rotating it in his hand so that the white peel caught the streams of light filtered through the thin curtains.

“This here,” he said, his voice low but carrying a vibration that resonated in the small space, “is called an Akuma no Mi. I watched an anime years ago that delved deep into the lore of these fruits. One bite, and the person who eats it gains abilities that no normal human being can achieve through sweat and training. Strength, speed, stamina, instincts—their very biology is rewritten.”

Kevin processed slowly, his wide cheeks shifting expression as he absorbed the weight of the words. He shifted on the sofa, sinking deeper, one of his large hands rubbing his own thigh with that gesture Jack had learned to recognize as someone trying to anchor themselves. “Akuma no Mi… sounds like something from the stories you keep telling,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the fruit, as if it could disappear the same way the gold had vanished minutes before. “But are you serious? One bite and that’s it? No training, no gacha, nothing?”

“This is the Buta Buta no Mi.” Jack paused, letting the name sink in. “Boar Fruit. Transforms the user into a wild boar or a hybrid form. Strength of a charging beast, resistance that absorbs punishments no human could withstand, sharp senses that cut through the chaos of the streets.” His eyes narrowed slightly with the practical consideration that always followed euphoria. “It has weaknesses—seawater drains strength, Kairoseki nullifies everything. But Kairoseki, in this world, is practically nonexistent. And water… it’s a manageable obstacle compared to facing what’s coming without any power.”

The silence that followed was contemplative, thick with the weight of what the fruit represented. Kevin stared at her, his face scanning layers—the astonishment of wide eyes mixed with that street smarts that had helped pull off the robbery. His fingers opened and closed on his knees.

Then Jack held out the fruit toward him. “Here. It’s yours.”

Kevin recoiled on the sofa with a surprised grunt, the springs creaking with the movement. His brown eyes darted to his friend’s face, searching for any sign of playfulness, hesitation, some reservation that hadn’t yet been voiced. He found none. “What? Jack… what do you mean?” His voice cracked with genuine shock, his broad body stiffening as if the offer had physical weight.

Jack closed the distance between them and placed the fruit in Kevin’s hands with a gentleness that belied the firmness in his voice. ‘You said you wanted to stay by my side. You risked family money, freedom, your life—for this path with me. If this is real, then this is how you survive it. We’re on the brink of something incredibly dangerous, Kevin. This world… normal for you but still strange to me… it devours the weak. The psychopaths at Vought, the hunters at GDA, whatever bigger storm is coming. I’m not going to stand by and watch you get crushed because you became ordinary while I seek power. Eat. Be strong with me.’

Kevin held the fruit, its fresh, textured weight pressing against his palms. His face flushed deeper, his conflicting emotions visible—shock, gratitude, fear, and that mutual warmth that tightened his throat. He scanned Jack’s eyes and found no doubt. He found loyalty mirrored back. The edges of his own eyes burned slightly, not from weakness, but from the recognition that this bond ran both ways. Brothers in arms, forged in a run-down apartment amidst dirty money and cosmic roulette. His thick fingers closed around the fruit.

“You… are you really giving me this?” His voice was deep, hoarse with emotion.

Jack simply smiled, slightly and encouragingly, shaking his head once.

Kevin took a deep breath, his abdomen rising and falling, and brought the fruit to his mouth. His teeth sank into the peel with a moist crunch.

The taste hit him instantly—a rotten, horrible explosion that coated his tongue and flooded his mouth like rotten meat mixed with decaying garbage and bitter chemicals. His eyes bulged. His face contorted in pure disgust as the smell assaulted his nostrils, pungent and nauseating, his stomach churning violently. He swallowed hard, the piece sliding down his throat like sludge, leaving a persistent film that only worsened. ‘What—’ Kevin choked, a hand flying to his neck as he fought the urge to vomit, his stocky body trembling all over. Sweat dripped down his face, mingling with the revulsion that distorted his features. ‘What the hell is this, man—’

Jack watched for half a second.

Then a laugh escaped—deep, rolling, uncontrollable, it doubled him over. He clutched his sides, tears streaming from his green eyes as he sank to the floor, his hand slapping the linoleum in pure delight. The sound echoed through the apartment, raw and contagious.

Kevin’s face turned as red as a tomato. Fury blazed in his brown eyes like a match to gasoline. “You idiot!” he roared, lunging forward despite the nausea that still gripped him. He grabbed Jack by the collar of his Ghost suit, pulling him up with surprising force born of rage and adrenaline, shaking his friend’s head from side to side with his chubby arms bent. “You son of a bitch! I trusted you! How could you do this to me after everything?!”

Jack’s laughter only grew louder, tears streaming freely, his face flushed with joy even as he was shaken. The bond between them, forged in loyalty and shared risk, allowed this rarity—the fraternal playfulness that cut through the gravity of everything without undoing it. Kevin held back his fury for a few more seconds, his voice breaking between curses and that impulsive fire that defined him.

Then something changed.

The ground seemed to disappear beneath Kevin’s feet. His hands, still gripping Jack’s collar, began to swell, his fingers thickening, his nails hardening into dark points. A strange pressure built up in his spine, bones creaking and expanding with audible cracks that echoed in the small room. His head hit the low ceiling with a dull thud, forcing Kevin to bend over as his body rose in rapid, violent growth. Fur—rough, coarse, brown—sprouted from his arms and chest, tearing through his already taut shirt. His face elongated with a nauseating crack, his snout jutting forward, fangs emerging from the jawline. His back arched as a thin, snapping tail with a sharp tuft ripped through his trousers and thrashed wildly, knocking over the lamp with a bang. Split hooves cracked his sneakers, powerful, shattering the linoleum as his legs thickened into muscular hips. The clothes ripped audibly, the fabric unraveling into shreds, leaving the transforming body exposed — enormous, hybrid, a boar-man nearly two and a half meters tall in the suddenly claustrophobic apartment.

Kevin stumbled backward, releasing Jack with a frightened grunt that came out as a deep, guttural sniff. His new senses overwhelmed him: his sense of smell capturing every scent in the room with an indescribable intensity, his ears twitching at the slightest sounds, his fur-covered hands now powerful claws. He turned his elongated snout toward Jack, his eyes wide with panic beneath the bristles of his thick eyebrows.

“What… what’s happening to me?!” The voice was deeper, rougher, with beastly notes underneath, but unmistakably still Kevin’s.

Jack stood up, still catching his breath from the laughter, but now erect, his eyes wide and quickly melting into a satisfied, almost predatory smile. The apartment was a wreck—torn clothes, overturned furniture, the air thick with the new, musky scent of transformation. But what stood amidst the mess was, from any angle, something the world of San Diego wasn’t yet ready to face.

“You’re changing, Kevin,” Jack said simply, his green eyes gleaming with triumph and brotherly pride. “Welcome to the new league.”