East Blue, somewhere on the open sea.
A young man stood silently on the deck of a ship, gazing out at the vast, endless ocean. The world before him was painted in blue—sea and sky blending together. A thin veil of mist hung above the water, and the breeze carried with it the salty freshness of the sea air.
His name was Kurosawa Raion, a sixteen-year-old high school student. Over a month ago, while watching an episode of One Piece, he had been mysteriously transported into this world.
In his previous life, Raion had been painfully average—average family, average grades, average height. The only thing that stood out about him was his slightly above-average looks, but even that wasn't anything too remarkable.
He had once fantasized that, if he were ever thrown into another world, he'd do great things. Maybe become a hero, or rise to power with some cheat ability. But what greeted him here was far from a dream—it was more like a nightmare.
Other people who traveled through time or dimensions ended up as relatives of legendary marines like Sengoku or Garp, or became sworn brothers of Gol D. Roger himself. But what about Raion?
He got captured by pirates.
Not just any pirates—but the third-rate, ragtag Bucky Pirates.
And not as a fighter or officer—he was stuck doing the lowest of the low grunt work. Fixing planks, hoisting sails, cleaning the deck, hauling cargo. A glorified handyman, really.
Not exactly a sad story—but far from heroic.
The captain of the ship was the infamous Joker Bucky, a man with a Devil Fruit power that let his body split apart at will. His bounty was six million Berries—a joke compared to the real monsters roaming the seas. People called him "the immortal body of the East Blue," though that title and his 15 million bounty would only come much later.
A loud smack echoed across the deck. Raion winced as a slap landed on the back of his head. He turned to see a rough-looking man with stubble and a mean glint in his eye glaring down at him.
The man's name was Tom, a brutish member of the Bucky Pirates who got his kicks bullying those weaker than him.
"Hey, kid! You've got time to daydream, huh? Did you finish loading the ammo like Captain Bucky asked? Or do you think you're on a damn cruise?" Tom barked.
Raion didn't answer. He knew better. He silently turned and headed below deck to resume restocking the ship's ammunition.
It wasn't that he lacked courage—it's just that he had no chance of winning a fight right now.
He still remembered the first day after he'd been captured. Tom had picked on him, and Raion had tried to fight back. He ended up pinned to the ground and beaten so badly, the bruises had only just begun to fade last week.
Raion wasn't afraid of pain or hardship. But he wasn't stupid either. A wise man knows when to hold back. Right now, with no strength or skills, trying to fight Tom would only mean another trip to the infirmary—if not worse.
"Once I'm strong enough... I swear I'll make you pay," Raion thought bitterly.
But how? How could he even begin to gain strength in this world?
In this universe, power generally came from one of three things: Devil Fruits, physical combat (taijutsu), or swordsmanship.
Getting a Devil Fruit? That required ridiculous luck—like stumbling across one randomly while wandering an island (only to find out it's the Everyone-Everyone Fruit, which is basically useless and turns you into a landlubber. A joke, really). Or you needed money. Lots of it. A basic Zoan-type or a half-decent Paramecia could easily sell for 100 million Berries.
Or you had to be strong enough to steal one from someone else. Raion didn't qualify on any front.
As for physical combat or swordsmanship? Sure, he could do push-ups and squats every day, but that would only toughen his body slightly. It wasn't going to help him fight off five armed pirates.
And on this ship? Training was impossible. He didn't know any of the Navy's Rokushiki techniques. If he knew even a single move like Shigan (Finger Gun), he'd have already left Tom full of bloody holes.
But reality was harsh. Raion could only suck it up and keep his head down.
How long would this continue? Would he keep being bullied, beaten, yelled at, and ordered around on this clown's ship until he was old, useless, and thrown overboard to die in obscurity?
Why the hell was he so unlucky?
As the despair mounted, Raion's expression darkened. From frustration to hopelessness, his emotions spiraled.
Eventually, in that heavy mood, he drifted off to sleep on the cold, hard floor of the ship's lower deck...
The next morning, just as the sky began to lighten, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the wooden stairs.
"Thud... thud... thud..."
A large figure loomed beside the sleeping Raion—and without hesitation, kicked him hard to wake him up.
It was Tom again. Of course.
Raion's tired eyes flickered open, but this time they weren't filled with fear or weariness. They burned with rage.
Tom noticed.
And laughed.
That kind of look—fiery but powerless—was amusing to someone like him. He leaned in close, mocking. "Oh? What's this? You mad? Hah! You got a problem, brat?" He grabbed Raion by the hair and yanked hard, jerking his head back and forth.
Raion snapped.
With clenched fists, he swung at Tom—
But to no effect. His thin frame had no power behind the punch. It landed with less impact than a mosquito bite.
Tom didn't even flinch. He caught Raion's wrist easily in one big, calloused hand.
"You little bastard... you really wanna die?" Tom growled.
Then he punched Raion straight in the face. The blow sent him sprawling across the floor, a red fist mark blooming on his cheek. His teeth felt loose. Blood pooled in his mouth.
Still not satisfied, Tom kicked him hard in the side, sending him crashing into the cabin wall.
Raion's whole body screamed in pain. But he didn't make a sound—not a groan, not a cry.
Tom sneered. "Let that be a lesson! Next time you act tough, I'll beat you three times a day. Now get off your ass and get back to work. Stop moping around like a little girl."
With that, he strutted off, whistling to himself like a victorious general.
Raion lay there for a long moment, his body aching from head to toe.
That's what it's like to be weak.
Forget dignity—he barely had the right to exist.
His thoughts drifted to the words of the warlord Crocodile:
"Weakness is a sin."
Raion clenched his teeth.
No. I have to become strong.
But... "strong"?
Even Raion couldn't help but laugh bitterly at the word. In his current state, strength was a distant fantasy.
How could he even begin to get stronger?
There was no way. No teacher. No money. No Devil Fruit. No opportunity.
And yet... in the pit of despair... a dark thought crept into his mind.
Kill Tom.
Even if it meant dying too. At least then, he wouldn't have to live like this anymore.
Why fear death, when living is worse?
"There is no path forward without a price to pay."