- - -
Sigh.
"Finally. It was a journey… but I made it. 1,155 chapters."
Dean leaned back in his chair, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions surging through him. After years of putting it off, he had finally read through One Piece—every single chapter. It had taken months, but now he understood what all the hype was about. The characters. The worldbuilding. The themes. The pure, unfiltered adventure.
He smiled to himself. "Thank you, Oda."
At 18, fresh out of high school and unsure what to do with his future, Dean had found himself enchanted by the story's soul. Inspired by Robin's quest for truth and Luffy's dream of freedom, he had developed a budding passion for history—wanting, just like the Straw Hats, to uncover what the world had buried.
He slipped on his jacket, stepped out of his apartment, and took to the streets. Moonlight bathed the quiet city as he strolled aimlessly, lost in thought, still digesting the weight of that last chapter.
Then he heard it.
A cry.
His head snapped around. There—on the road ahead—was a young boy sitting alone, sobbing.
His eyes darted up the street—and widened. A massive semi-truck was barreling toward the child, its horn silent, brakes untouched. The driver wasn't slowing down.
Without thinking, Dean sprinted.
Time slowed. Adrenaline surged.
He reached the boy in a single, desperate burst, grabbing him and shoving him aside—
The headlights flared.
Then—
Impact.
Pain. Noise. Darkness.
And then…
He woke up drowning.
Saltwater filled his lungs. His limbs flailed, not from panic but instinct. Powerful muscles obeyed his command with inhuman precision. He kicked—once, twice—and broke the surface in an explosion of spray.
"Gah!"
He gasped, coughing violently as he clung to a piece of driftwood. His senses reeled. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, louder than the ocean itself.
He was alive. But this body… wasn't his.
That's when the memories hit.
Sabo. Luffy. Dadan. Garp. Death.
Flashes of a childhood in the Goa Kingdom. Brothers made through shared pain. And that hat.
Dean's—no, Ace's—eyes widened as he spotted it floating nearby.
An orange hat with twin smiley pins. Unmistakable.
His arm trembled as he reached for it, pulling it into his grasp. And as he clutched it to his chest, something inside him broke open.
The sky cracked.
Waves erupted outward in a violent burst. A shockwave of sheer will exploded from his body, sending flocks of birds into the air and fish fleeing into the depths. The driftwood splintered. The air shimmered.
Conqueror's Haki.
Raw. Untamed. A roar of soul-deep pressure that rippled across the sea like a beast announcing its return.
Ace—no, Dean—clutched his head as the duality of consciousness merged. The two versions of Ace—one from the manga, one from the real world—intertwined like fire and oil. They did not compete. They combined.
And what emerged…
Was something new.
Dean sat quietly on the remains of the raft, soaked but alive. He stared at his reflection in the water—tan skin, lean muscle, the unmistakable tattoo: ASCE, with the S crossed out.
"I'm Ace," he whispered.
The old Ace had wasted his potential. He chased Whitebeard's shadow. Died for pride. Left Luffy broken.
That wouldn't happen again.
"No more wasted potential. I have a second chance. I'm not going to die just to let someone else live their dream."
His eyes narrowed.
"I'll become the Pirate King—and I'll uncover the truth of this world."
He thought of the Void Century. Joy Boy. The Will of D. Imu. The secrets Oda never finished explaining.
Then he thought of his meta-knowledge.
Every island. Every devil fruit. Every major threat and hidden detail.
He smirked.
"I won't rely on luck. I'll carve my path through this world with my own will."
A day passed.
He drifted on the sea, eating dried food from his pack and charting the sun's direction. The compass guided him vaguely east. He enjoyed the tranquility that the vast sea surrounding him brought.
Then, a dot appeared on the horizon.
It grew larger. A ship.
A Marine ship.
Five men. One captain. Standard-issue uniforms. The captain stood proud with a jagged mustache and medals too polished for someone with real battlefield experience.
The ship slowed as it approached.
"You there!" the captain barked. "Identify yourself!"
Ace stood on the raft, relaxed, hat low over his face.
"Name's Portgas D. Ace," he said, voice calm.
The captain's eyes narrowed. "Portgas D…? Never heard of you. What business do you have in this area?"
"Just an adventurer," Ace replied, grinning. "Exploring the seas."
The captain turned to his men. "He's fresh. No bounty. If we arrest him, we can spin it as capturing a dangerous pirate. I might even get promoted."
The crew chuckled.
Dean shook his head.
'So it begins.'
He leapt onto the Marine ship in a single bound.
"Whoa—!"
Before the captain could react, Ace appeared in front of him and landed a clean punch to the gut.
CRACK.
The captain's eyes rolled back as he collapsed instantly, unconscious before he hit the floor.
The remaining soldiers froze.
"If you want to live," Ace said, walking toward them, "answer my question."
They nodded furiously.
"Which of you is the navigator?"
The shortest of the five raised his hand, trembling. "M-Me!"
Ace nodded. Without hesitation, he kicked the other four men off the ship and into the sea.
The navigator stared, pale.
"You're my temporary crew," Ace said, leveling a cold gaze. "Do your job, and you'll live. Betray me, and you'll wish you were dead."
"Y-Yes sir!" the man squeaked.
"Good." Ace turned, adjusting his hat. "Plot a course to Sixis Island."
And so began his new journey.
As the ship sailed under the starlit sky, Ace sat at the bow, legs crossed, eyes fixed on the horizon.
His mind raced.
'I need strength. Real strength. I'll train Haki until it becomes my identity. And if I ever find that fruit…'
He clenched his fist, dark energy rippling across it. A faint sheen of color.
Armament.
He breathed out, expanding his senses. The kidnapped marine, the sea life, the clouds.
Observation.
And buried deep within him, the spark of something monstrous…
Conqueror's Haki.
He had immense potential. Whether it be born from both of his souls or his bloodline. He knew what awaited him if he continued.
"I'm going to be terrifying," he whispered to the stars.
But that was okay.
He had no intention of playing meek.
This was a mission of truth, dominance and exploration.
This is…
His stomach grumbled. Ugh… I hate these rations. I need a proper cook. And a musician at that. What I wouldn't give to be able to listen to modern music.
Sorry Luffy, but it looks like it won't just be your dream that I'm taking.
As he chuckled to himself he noticed, through his observation.
That the marine onboard shuddered.