"Come on, let's go see if that brat Lucky Drake is dead yet."
"If he's not dead, drag him out to work!"
"Calling himself a pirate, yet he can't even kill anyone—he almost got counter-killed! Makes my blood boil!"
"He's completely ruined the Thunder Pirates' reputation in the East Blue. If word of this gets out, every crew out there will laugh at us."
Lucky Drake had just obtained his system and spent a moment studying it when he heard a group of people approaching on the deck outside.
What chilled him wasn't their footsteps—
It was the fact that none of them were here to check on his injuries.
Instead, they were calling him trash?
Bang!
The old cabin door was kicked open.
"Lucky Drake, you piece of trash—looks like you've been awake for a while, haven't you?"
"Hmph, listen up. The Thunder Pirates don't raise useless freeloaders. Since you can't fight and won't kill, if you want to stay on this ship, you'll do all the chores! From now on, you'll handle the laundry and cooking alone!"
The speaker—
Was Haito, the vice-captain of the Thunder Pirates.
He was merely a third-rate swordsman—much weaker than early-game bounty hunter Zoro.
But even a third-rate swordsman counted as someone with some strength in the East Blue, where few real powerhouses appeared.
Ding!
"Mission triggered!"
"Defeat Haito to obtain Lottery Points!"
The system's voice echoed in Lucky Drake's mind.
Hearing this, Lucky Drake's heart instantly filled with joy.
To become strong in this pirate world, he had to draw from the system again and again.
And since he had transmigrated—
He decided he would live bravely and live strong.
"Hmph, Haito?"
"You think you're qualified to lecture me?"
"A guy like you isn't worthy of being vice-captain of the Thunder Pirates."
"In fact… that position should be mine."
Facing Haito and the three pirates behind him, Lucky Drake released an unexpectedly fierce aura.
"Hahahaha!"
Haito burst into mocking laughter. "Lucky Drake, do you know who you're talking to? I'm a swordmaster!"
"Vice-captain, I think Lucky Drake's head really did get smashed in. He's gone crazy!" the lackey beside him added.
Lucky Drake sneered.
"Heh, Haito, you? A swordmaster? You're nothing but a trash, third-rate swordsman."
"And you bunch of bootlickers—are your brains broken? Does being a pirate give you the right to slaughter unarmed people? I refuse to kill innocents and that makes me trash?"
Haito's brows twisted sharply. His expression turned cold.
"A third-rate trash swordsman?"
"Lucky Drake… sounds like you're trying to rebel. Do you think you can be the vice-captain of the Thunder Pirates?"
"Hmph. And what if I do?"
Lucky Drake snorted fearlessly. "My strength is superior to yours. Why should I do chores? Why should I take orders from you?"
"You bastard—are you looking for death?!"
Haito, whose temperament was nowhere near as stable as Lucky Drake's, fell for the provocation instantly.
He drew his katana and lunged toward Lucky Drake.
He expected Lucky Drake to immediately kneel and beg for mercy—
Swish!
But Lucky Drake's feet exploded with force, and in an instant, he vanished from his spot.
Haito's slash struck empty air.
"Huh?"
For a moment—
Both Haito and his lackeys were stunned.
He disappeared? Just like that?
Good grief.
Had Lucky Drake been hiding his strength all along?
Was this his true power?
Lucky Drake had activated Rokushiki: Soru.
Even at only LV1, it was more than enough to evade an attack from a third-rate swordsman.
He reappeared to the side, and his aura changed instantly—
Cold.
Dominant.
Invincible.
With Nine Yang Divine Art at LV1, he had obtained a small amount of internal energy.
"What…?"
Haito and his lackeys suddenly felt an oppressive aura radiating from Lucky Drake.
Their breathing grew heavy.
Lucky Drake didn't waste words.
"Nine Yang Divine Art!"
He recited silently in his heart, mobilizing his internal energy, then thrust both palms forward.
A wave of force erupted—
A weaker version of the legendary "Toppling Mountains and Seas" palm strike.
Boom!
"Argh!"
The blast of inner force struck Haito and the others from a distance, sending them flying out of the cabin.
The old door shattered into pieces.
"Wah!"
Haito and his lackeys spat out mouthfuls of blood.
"S-So strong!"
"What kind of technique is that?!"
Fear filled their eyes.
If this continued, they really would die at Lucky Drake's hands.
After retracting his inner force—
Lucky Drake felt a wave of fatigue wash over him.
As expected, Nine Yang Divine Art at LV1 didn't give him much internal energy yet.
"Hoo…"
He took a deep breath and steadied his qi and blood.
Then he walked out onto the deck.
Expressionless, he looked down at the blood-spattered Haito.
"Haito, let me ask you—
Who should be the vice-captain of the Thunder Pirates now?
You? Or me?"
Cold sweat poured down Haito's forehead. He had never felt such danger in his life.
"Hmph… I admit it. My strength is inferior to yours. The vice-captain position is yours."
Lucky Drake remained expressionless.
"In that case, get out. The Thunder Pirates don't need scum like you."
"Because you have no sense of camaraderie, no mercy, and you don't even understand—
True pirates pursue strength and freedom, not freedom to commit crimes or slaughter innocents!"
"What?!"
Haito gritted his teeth. "You—you want to kick us out of the Thunder Pirates?"
"Impossible! Only Captain Red has the authority to decide who leaves the ship!"
"Lucky Drake, you may have hidden your strength well, but don't push your luck!"
His eyes turned blood-red with anger.
This bastard played the pig to eat the tiger, and now he not only stole his position but wanted to take away his livelihood too?
"You think Captain Red will listen to you?"
Lucky Drake coldly snorted.
"Hmph. You're no longer vice-captain. Captain Red will listen to me."
From his inherited memories—
Captain Red was a simple man.
Almost dull.
Not big on thinking.
No strong opinions.
But he firmly believed in one thing—
Strength rules.
And to be fair—
He was indeed quite strong.
A five-million-Berry pirate in the East Blue was already above most crews.
Plus, Red was a Devil Fruit user—
A rare Mythical Eel-Eel Fruit user.
But even so,
He still trained his body and martial skills seriously.
A three-meter-tall brute who looked like a giant idiot.
Whenever he stood in front of them, he felt like a rock sharpened by countless blades.
His body was packed with muscle and explosive power.
His strongest attack was Thunder Fist, punches crackling with electricity.
Though because he lacked fruit mastery, the electricity was mediocre—enough only to mildly paralyze enemies.
"No, we need to see the captain!"
Haito still refused to accept it.
"Fine. Let's go see the captain.
You're only marching to your own humiliation."
Lucky Drake's face remained blank, but on his eighteen-year-old features, a fierce determination appeared for the first time.
He was no longer the timid, weak teenager from before.