As Oliver Queen

Chapter 4: Pushing Beyond Limits

The morning greeted me with sore muscles and aching joints. Every fiber of my being protested as I forced myself up from the makeshift bedding I had set near the cave's entrance. The fire had long since died out, leaving nothing but cold embers and the distant sounds of the island's wildlife.

Ignoring the pain, I clenched my fists. This was good. This pain meant I was getting stronger. It meant I wasn't just surviving—I was evolving.

I stretched out my arms, rolling my shoulders before beginning my morning routine. Today, I had one goal: master tree climbing. Yesterday, I had made progress, but progress wasn't enough. I needed results. I needed to move like a shinobi, to be able to run up vertical surfaces without hesitation.

I approached the tree that had been my enemy for the past day. Deep breath. Focus. I gathered my chakra, feeling it swirl within me. It felt like a warm current of energy flowing through my body, waiting to be shaped, to be controlled.

I took a step up.

One step. Two steps. Three.

Then I slipped, but this time, instead of falling flat on my back, I twisted midair and landed on my feet. A grin formed on my face. That was better.

Refining Chakra Control

For the next several hours, I dedicated myself entirely to perfecting the technique. With each failed attempt, I adjusted my chakra flow, experimenting with different levels of concentration. At first, I overcompensated and sent myself flying backward. Then, I undercompensated and barely stuck to the bark. But slowly, steadily, I found the right balance.

By midday, I was sprinting halfway up the tree before needing to jump off. By evening, I reached the top and perched on a thick branch, looking down at the ground below.

I did it.

A surge of exhilaration flooded my veins. This was proof that my path was real, that I could achieve things beyond human limitations. My grin widened as I leaned back against the tree trunk, catching my breath.

But I wasn't done yet. Mastering tree climbing was just the beginning.

Weapon Training: Adapting to the Military Knife

While chakra was an advantage, I couldn't rely on it entirely. I needed to be just as skilled with physical combat, especially with the tools at my disposal. Right now, that meant my military knife.

I studied the weapon in my hands. It was sturdy, well-balanced, and perfect for quick, precise strikes. In the hands of an expert, it was deadly. Unfortunately, I wasn't an expert—yet.

Drawing from memory, I started practicing basic knife techniques. I mimicked the moves I had seen in movies, but it quickly became apparent that what looked cool wasn't always practical. I adjusted my grip, focusing on speed and efficiency. Stabs, slashes, parries—I ran through every motion repeatedly, forcing my body to commit them to muscle memory.

To simulate real combat, I set up wooden dummies made from tree branches and practiced attacking vital points. The throat, the kidneys, the arteries—every strike had to be lethal. Wasting energy in a fight was a death sentence.

By the time I stopped, my arms burned from the constant motion, but my technique had improved. I was far from a master, but if someone came at me with a blade now, I wouldn't be completely defenseless.

The Evolution of My Intelligence

During my short breaks, I found myself lost in thought. The mental clarity I had gained since transmigrating was astounding. It was more than just intelligence—it was awareness. Patterns, calculations, and strategies formed in my mind effortlessly.

I could analyze my mistakes with near-perfect recall. Every failure in my training became a lesson, every movement an equation I could tweak and refine. I wasn't just thinking faster—I was thinking smarter. My ability to process information had become something beyond human norms.

'This must be because of my fusion with Oliver's soul,' I mused.

Oliver Queen was already a brilliant tactician, but he had been reckless in his early days. That recklessness was gone now. I had his instincts, his survival skills, but combined with my rationality and foresight, I was becoming something greater.

If I could develop this gift even further, there would be no enemy I couldn't outthink.

First Kill: The Trial by Blood

As night fell, hunger gnawed at my stomach again. I needed real food. Berries and leaves wouldn't sustain me forever.

I fashioned a crude hunting spear from a sharpened branch and set out into the jungle. My movements were quiet, controlled. My senses were sharper than ever before, attuned to the rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of animals.

Then, I spotted it—a wild boar drinking from a small stream.

My heart pounded. This was it. My first true test as a hunter.

I crouched low, adjusting my grip on the spear. I recalled every hunting technique I had ever read, every strategy that could increase my chances of success. Then, I moved.

Slow, steady, silent.

The boar raised its head slightly, its ears twitching. It sensed something. But before it could react, I lunged forward and thrust the spear into its side.

The animal let out a pained squeal and thrashed violently. Blood sprayed as it staggered, trying to escape, but I didn't let up. I twisted the spear and drove it deeper, forcing the creature to the ground.

Seconds passed like hours. My hands were shaking as I watched the light fade from the boar's eyes. My breathing was heavy, my chest tight. This was different from practicing on wooden dummies. This was real.

I had just taken a life.

I expected guilt, maybe even hesitation. But instead, I felt something else.

Purpose.

I had done what needed to be done. I had proven that I wasn't just surviving—I was thriving. And with every challenge I overcame, I was becoming something greater than I ever imagined.

End of Chapter 4.