The dampness of the Sabaody dungeon felt like a second skin, slick and cold. Evan Kamiyo hung from his wrists, the metal of the shackles polished smooth by the many desperate souls who had worn them before him.
The silence was broken only by the rhythmic dripping of water and the distant, muffled sounds of the world above—a world that had no idea the foundations of its reality were about to crack.
The Currency of Terror
The System's voice returned, shedding its previous vagueness for a sharper, more analytical tone. It didn't sound like a machine; it sounded like a cold mentor whisper-chanting into the back of his skull.
"There are two methods to obtain Reputation Points," the voice intoned.
Evan focused, ignoring the stinging raw skin where the iron met his bone. He needed to understand the rules of this game if he was going to win it.
"First: directly causing shock and fear through the summoning of reincarnated individuals. The more the world trembles at the sight of your shadows, the more power you harvest."
Evan's lips curved into a jagged, bloody smile. Fear was a universal language. In a world ruled by the fist and the fruit, terror was the ultimate gold standard.
"Second: accumulating reputation points through the world's reactions to the host's actions. Every headline, every bounty increase, every whispered rumor in a tavern feeds the system."
"Host Evan Kamiyo currently possesses zero Reputation Points," the System added, almost mockingly.
Zero. A clean slate in a world of monsters.
The Math of Survival
"System," Evan whispered, his voice catching in his throat. "What's my current survival probability if I stay here? I'm not exactly in the mood to be sold to the highest bidder at the Human Auction House."
"Survival probability: Extremely low," the voice replied instantly. "Based on your current physical state and the trajectory of Saint Charlos's whims, your life expectancy is less than forty-eight hours."
Evan didn't flinch. Fear was for those who still had something to lose. He had already lost his world; now he was here to take this one.
"Then explain the requirements," he commanded. "How do I bring the dead back to this side of the veil? What are the conditions for Reincarnation?"
The System paused, a low hum vibrating through Evan's nerves as it organized the forbidden knowledge.
"Reincarnation requires three core conditions," it began. "First: a sufficient amount of Reputation Points to pay the toll between dimensions. Second: DNA or soul information of the target being—a tether to pull them back."
"Third," the voice grew heavier, "the existence of a vessel capable of anchoring the reincarnated soul. A weak vessel will shatter under the pressure of a powerful spirit."
The Resource Vault
"DNA?" Evan repeated, his brow furrowing. "You're telling me I need a piece of them? In a world where they never even existed?"
"Confirmed," the System answered. "The system may extract residual soul imprints from dimensional memory, but physical DNA acts as a catalyst. It increases reincarnation stability by four hundred percent."
Evan's mind raced. He looked at his own bound hands, then toward the heavy iron bars of his cell.
If he wanted the legends of the Hidden Leaf or the Hidden Mist, he needed biological components. And who in the One Piece world spent their lives collecting the rare, the forbidden, and the biological?
The Celestial Dragons. Their "collections" weren't just gold and jewels; they were living things, ancient artifacts, and the DNA of the strongest races in the sea. This dungeon wasn't just a prison; it was a treasure chest of biological vessels.
"Mismatch may result in rejection, instability, or loss of control," the System warned. "If the soul is too grand for the meat that holds it, the result is a mindless monster."
"So if I want Madara at full strength," Evan murmured, "I need the best possible vessel... and enough points to keep his leash short."
The Ghost of the Uchiha
"Uchiha Madara: Reincarnation cost—extremely high," the System noted. "However, success rate increases substantially when the host possesses a direct soul linkage."
Evan's heartbeat slowed to a calm, steady rhythm. He felt it—a strange, echoing resonance in his very marrow. He had awakened as Madara once before in the transition between worlds. That bond wasn't just a memory; it was a bridge.
"This dungeon," Evan thought, his eyes sharpening as he scanned the corridor, "isn't a cage. It's a resource vault."
Suddenly, the stagnant air of the dungeon shifted. The distant sounds of the archipelago—the laughter, the bubbles popping, the music—seemed to vanish.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. They weren't the arrogant, slow strides of Saint Charlos. They were frantic. Panicked.
"What's going on?" a prisoner in a neighboring cell croaked, his voice trembling with a new kind of dread.
Evan felt it before he saw it. A ripple in the atmosphere, a pressure so dense it felt like gravity had suddenly tripled. The torches on the walls flickered, their flames turning a sickly, ghostly blue.
"Reputation Points acquired," the System chimed. "Source: Fear response detected."
The Arrival of the Legend
The iron door at the end of the corridor didn't just open; it vanished.
A violent shockwave tore through the stone, turning the heavy metal door into a hail of shrapnel that embedded itself into the far walls. Dust and pulverized rock filled the air, thick and choking.
Evan squinted through the haze. A silhouette stood in the doorway. He was tall, clad in deep red, segmented armor that looked like it had been forged in the fires of an era long forgotten.
Cracks ran across the figure's pale skin, faint golden light seeping through the fissures, marking him as something not entirely of the living world.
The guards who had been rushing toward the exit stopped dead. They didn't even try to draw their weapons. Their legs simply gave out, their bodies hitting the grime-slicked floor as they hyperventilated in the presence of a predator they couldn't comprehend.
"No... that's not a pirate..." one guard whimpered, his eyes rolling back in his head.
The man took a step forward. Each footfall sounded like a drumbeat in the silence of the tomb.
"Super-Dimensional Reincarnation successful," the System whispered in Evan's mind. "Target summoned: Uchiha Madara."
The Binding
Madara Uchiha slowly opened his eyes. The Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan spun with a lethal, mesmerizing grace. He didn't look at the guards. He didn't look at the cages.
His gaze landed squarely on Evan Kamiyo.
He saw the chains. He saw the blood. He saw the weakness of Evan's current body. A faint, dangerous smile played on the edge of the legend's lips.
"So," Madara said, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that seemed to vibrate the very stones of the dungeon. "This is the world you dragged me into? A world of water and cowards?"
Evan met that crimson gaze without flinching. His heart was pounding, but not with fear. It was the thrill of the hunt.
"Yes," Evan replied, his voice growing stronger. "And it's a world that needs to be burned down to make room for something better."
For a long, agonizing second, Madara stared at him. The pressure in the room reached a breaking point, the stone floor beneath Madara's feet cracking under the sheer weight of his chakra.
Then, a low, rumbling laugh filled the corridor. It was the sound of a man who found the entire situation hilariously absurd.
"Hah... interesting."
"Warning: Reincarnated entity possesses high autonomy," the System sparked. "Host authority confirmed."
Madara's eyes narrowed slightly. He felt the invisible threads of the system tightening around his soul, the soul-contract ensuring that despite his power, he was bound to the man in chains.
"You bound me," Madara said. It wasn't an accusation. It was an observation. "Bold of you, boy."
"I need your power," Evan said simply. "And you need a world that's actually worth conquering. We both know the Shinobi world was getting too small for you."
Madara looked around the dungeon one more time, his contempt for the "Gods" who built this place evident in every line of his face.
"Very well," Madara said, his hand moving to the hilt of his blade. "Let's see what kind of era this sea world can endure."
Outside, the sirens of Sabaody began to scream. The World Government's nightmare had just been given flesh.
"Reputation Points increased. The era of Super-Dimensional Reincarnation has officially begun."