__________________________________________________________________

___________________________________

The chapter got you itching for more? Read ahead and get exclusive content before anyone else? Join me on Patr -e-on! Your support would mean the world to me.

( | p@treon.com/FictionGoat | )

. . . .

__________________________________________________________________

___________________________________

Logue Town - September 16, 1496

The sun hung low, casting a gentle yellow warmth over Loguetown, not enough to make anyone break a sweat, but just enough to withstood the lingering chill of the late afternoon. A faint breeze drifted through the streets, carrying the scent of salt and dust from the harbor to the town's poorer alleys.

Here, on the outskirts of this richly blessed island, buildings leaned into each other, from its poorly built foundation. Inside a forgotten warehouse, shadows pooled between crates and beams, barely revealing the figure of a young man standing confidently amidst a group of dressed in rugged pirate attire. The young man looked no day older than sixteen, just old enough to wipe his own ass.

Yet, to be able stand confidently in a group of pirates showed his level of maturity and wisdom. The morning sun shone bright in his face almost giving him this angelic look. 

However, Toshi had a completely different agenda...one an angel wouldn't have. His gaze swept over the pirates with an unsettling calm, masking intentions that ran deeper than a simple exchange. One a child of his age shouldn't have.

He dressed in rugged cargo pants and brown boots, paired with a small black tee. Yet, what would instantly catch anyone's attention was his devilish white grin, gleaming in the light against his tanned face. His shaggy black hair fell slightly over his brown eyes, and his lips, thin and bright pink, bore a small black dot just above the left side.

His build was fairly scrawny yet moderately muscular...a physique that anyone could achieve with a few push-ups and a bit of dedication.

Toshi adjusted his stance, a sly grin curling at the edge of his mouth as he faced the pirates, their expressions untrusting yet intrigued. From behind him, Toshi grabbed an oversized brown backpack that seemed too large for his scrawny build.

He hoisted it onto the crate and unzipped it, revealing the contents within... an assortment of jewels and small devices, glinting faintly in the warehouse's dim light.

The pirates leaned forward, eyes gleaming with greed. "Now, gentlemen," Toshi began, his voice smooth yet confident, "what I have here is the answer to all your troubles. Exclusive imports from across the sea...rare items only found in the treasure troves of the Grand Line." He let the words sink in, enjoying the bandits' reactions.

The leader, a lean man dressed in a chalk-striped, dark-colored suit and tie, sports slicked-back hair, and sports a pencil-thin mustache. He looked more of a pimp than anything with a cane in one hand. "And why would a kid like you have such rare goods? Do you think we're fools?" he growled.

The metallic rasp of cutlasses being slowly drawn echoed through the worn down warehouse, and Toshi felt his pulse spike. The tips of the blades caught the faint light streaming through the cracks in the walls, casting a cold gleam that sent a shiver down his spine.

Toshi awkwardly chuckled, 'unfazed'. "Ah, but every king was a kid once. Besides, who better to go unnoticed than someone like me?" He took a step forward, lowering his voice, making his pitch seem all the more enticing. "For the right price, these little treasures can be yours. Imagine what people would pay for these in the markets."

One of the pirates shifted, eyeing Toshi's backpack with palpable greed in his eyes. "What're we talkin' here?" he asked, voice low.

"Beli," Toshi replied. "Enough to fill your pockets and then some. But only if you're willing to take the chance."

The pimp leader hesitated, contemplating. Toshi could see the doubt flickering in his eyes, but greed had a way of clouding even the sharpest minds. The leader nodded at last, and Toshi grinned wider, pushing the backpack into the man's outstretched hand.

"Alright... how much?" The leader asked, his voice sharp.

Toshi wasted no time in responding. "30,000 beli. If you sell these to the right person, you could easily make 100,000 beli." 

" Hmm..Alrighty. " The leader handed a stack of beli to Toshi, who eagerly accepted it and immediately started counting. Wasting no time, Toshi turned to leave. "Have fun…" he said with a wave, preparing to leave.

"Hit me up if you want more!" he called under his breath, barely containing his laughter before slipping out the worn door and immediately dashing off. As he ran he slipped through worn buildings, ducking under crates, and weaving through the narrow backstreets.

Toshi didn't hesitate for a single moment. It was as if he knew this area like the back of his hand, every crooked alleyway and narrow street embedded in his memory. His feet moved instinctively and his body guided him.

For someone like Toshi, the only means of earning money in this godless, unforgiving world was theft. It was a harsh reality he had come to accept long ago....survival on this island, in this world, meant taking what wasn't his. The streets offered little to those with no family, no protection, and no worth in the eyes of the rich.

He had nothing but his wits and the skill to slip through the cracks unnoticed. Which was no better than the godless world he originally came from.

Meanwhile, inside the warehouse, the leader's face twisted as he inspected the so-called treasures. His eyes narrowed, and he snatched up a "gold" necklace, his fingers brushing over a small, inconspicuous tag near the clasp that read 500 Beli. Realization dawned as he noticed the cheap paint already chipping at the edges, revealing dull metal beneath.

"That little rat… I should've known," he growled, slamming his fist into the crate, splitting it into pieces as the contents inside spilled out. "He scammed us!"

The other pirates exchanged nervous glances at one another. "Go after him you stupid fucks! Bring me that runt's head!" he barked, pointing toward the door. But when they ran outside and scanned the alleys, Toshi was long gone.

. . . . .

A few twists and turns later, he ducked behind an old stack of crates, catching his breath as he peaked up from behind the crate for any sign of them. Just in case they figured out his little ruse easily.

Toshi chuckled to himself, muttering under his breath, "I hope they have fun with my little 'treasures' from the grandline. "

He leaned back, taking a moment to savor his small victory. For a kid with almost nothing to his name, even a small stack of beli meant a night without scrounging for scraps. But he knew he couldn't stay here long. Once the pirates realized they'd been scammed, the docks would be crawling with them, all wanting to get their hands on him.

"Better lay low for a while, I" Toshi murmured to himself, Toshi rose from the floor and slipped out, merging into the crowd as he dashed through the maze of alleyways spread throughout the island. Until he reached a specific alley. Here, an old bar sign dangled from the wall, swaying slightly in the breeze.

As Toshi pushed the creaky door open, the lively sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled his ears. Toshi stepped inside, taking a moment to soak everything in.

 The bar was dimly lit, with worn wooden tables and chairs scattered about, their surfaces covered in the rings left behind by booze glasses. The low voice of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter mingled with the clinking of glasses. A haze of smoke hung in the air, adding to the gritty, nostalgic atmosphere that kept men like these coming back to escape their troubles.

Toshi made his way through the crowd, slipping past groups of drunk men. Despite how old the bar was, its sturdy walls and well-worn furniture gave it a sense of peace a sanctuary for those looking to lose themselves in drink and forget the grittiness of life, if only for a few hours.

Finally, he spotted Raoul at the counter, a tall, muscular man polishing booze cups. He had a thick gold necklace, matching earrings, a purple hat, a white shirt, and small black glasses perched on his nose as he worked, eyes focused on the glass in his hands. His eyes glancing up just enough to acknowledge Toshi's entrance. With a sigh, Toshi took a seat at the bar, giving Raoul a nod.

"Oi, Raoul! Hook me up with a good meal... I finally made some money today," Toshi called out, his voice carrying a hint of excitement at the thought of a decent meal.

Toshi slumped against the counter, glancing around the bar with a scowl. His stomach growled loudly, making him all the more annoyed as Raoul continued to ignore him.

"Oi, did you hear me?" Toshi barked. "Make me a plate already."

Raoul barely looked up from polishing glasses, his irritation barely hidden. "I heard you, but I've got work to do. If you're so hungry, why don't you help out? Or would you rather just sit there, making demands all day?"

Toshi's glare softened slightly. Raoul had always been a tough guy, but fair...a rarity in this part of town. After a moment of grumbling under his breath, Toshi huffed, "Fine, guess I owe you for all the free meals anyway."

Raoul moved around the counter, rolling up his sleeves as he prepared for work. Toshi had known him for a good while now...since he was 15, to be exact. Back then, his so-called "parents" hadn't lasted long. His mother, a stripper, was killed by a pirate, and his father died to an overdose.

Toshi's current life wasn't going so great. Raoul had found him one night, slumped outside, skin and bones, and had taken pity on him. He'd handed over food without asking questions, a kindness that Toshi had never forgotten.

As he began to stack some of the used glasses, he mumbled, "Can't believe I'm actually doing work for you, old man. This better be worth a feast."

Raoul was a bit taken by Toshi sudden earge to help. But kept it hidden and decided not to bring it up since he needed the extra hands and the amount of things he had to do was piling up.

Both Toshi and Raoul worked tirelessly, serving drinks with one hand while cleaning with the other. The hours dragged on, the back-breaking labor continuing well into the night. Finally, at midnight, Raoul closed up shop, and finally they could rest.

. . . . .

Raoul came from the back, balancing a plate piled high with rice and drumsticks in one hand and a glass of pineapple juice in the other.

Toshi's eyes lit up as Raoul set the plate in front of him. Without wasting a second, he dug in, shoveling food into his mouth with unrestrained enthusiasm.

Raoul chuckled, crossing his arms. "Slow down, or you'll choke before you even make it to the fifth bite," he warned, but Toshi ignored him, already taking a long gulp of juice to wash it down.

With a sigh, Raoul took a seat across from him. "If you're that hungry all the time, you know, you could just work here. I'd even give you a place to stay—you don't have to struggle like this every day."

Toshi shook his head, barely looking up from his plate as he tore into the drumstick. "Told you before, Raoul. I don't want handouts, and I definitely don't want to be tied down."

Raoul shook his head, his voice tinged with frustration. "And that right there is your problem... This stubborn pride of yours, thinking you can do it all alone.... One day, you'll realize that you can't go far without someone pushing you, without someone having your back when you fall."

Toshi sat in silence, his mind contemplating over Raoul's words, but he didn't respond. Instead, he kept eating in quiet contemplation, not willing to acknowledge the truth in the older man's tone.

Raoul watched him for a moment, his face softening. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slightly at Toshi's stubbornness. "It's getting late, and I'm beat from everything today. I don't want you sleeping in that dump of a place you call home. You can crash here tonight if you want," he offered, resting his chin in his palm, watching Toshi carefully.

Toshi looked up from his plate, his brow furrowed for a moment as if considering Raoul's offer. Then, after a long pause, he simply nodded, his pride still standing strong but his hunger for a good nights sleep and peace winning out for once. "Fine. I'll take you up on that."

Toshi finished his meal and slowly rose from his chair. He reached into his pocket and pulled out 10,000 beli, placing the money on the table.

Raoul raised an eyebrow, eyeing the 10,000 beli Toshi had placed on the counter. He was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head, clearly torn between his usual skepticism and an unexpected appreciation for the gesture.

"Where'd you get this kind of money?" Raoul asked, but caught himself before pressing too hard. "You know what, never mind… but this is way more than what you owe me."

Toshi met Raoul's gaze with an unreadable expression. "I don't like owing people," he said quietly, the words carrying an underlying meaning that Raoul couldn't quite decipher. "I guess... that's just how I am."

Raoul looked at the money again and then back at Toshi, sizing him up. There was a lot more to his words than Toshi was letting on, and Raoul could feel it. But he didn't push. He knew better than to pry too deeply when someone wasn't ready to open up.

Instead, he let out a soft chuckle and grabbed the money, tucking it into the back pocket. "Fair enough. But you're not getting off that easy. You're still gonna have to put in some work if you want to keep eating like this."

Toshi grinned, the tension between them lifting slightly. "Yeah, yeah. I'll figure something out," he replied. "But for now, I'll crash of the night. Don't expect me to be some kind of charity case."

Raoul laughed, his usual gruff demeanor returning. "You're no charity case, Toshi. Just don't make a habit of paying more than you need to. I'm not running a fancy restaurant, you know."

Toshi gave a small, wry smile, but his thoughts lingered on Raoul's words. Maybe there was more to what Raoul was offering than just a roof and a meal. Maybe, just maybe, this was the first time in a long while someone was actually trying to help him without expecting anything in return.

Raoul gave a small, knowing smile, but there was no trace of mockery in his face. He stood up, stretching his arms above his head before heading to the back of the bar.

"You'll be in the back room," Raoul said as he walked away. "It's not much, but it's better than sleeping on the streets."

He followed Raoul to the back, where a small room awaited, sparsely furnished with only a small bed and a cracked mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't luxurious by any stretch of imagination, but it was a hell of a lot better than the run-down house he'd been staying in.

Raoul turned to him as he opened the door, his expression still unreadable. "Get some rest, kid," he said, his tone softer now.

Toshi nodded, Raoul had been more than a simple bar owner to him...he was the one person who had always shown him kindness when the world had turned its back on him. Yet, Toshi couldn't help but feel distant from him. Was it his fault? Was he the one blocking every opportunity to let someone in?

Toshi sat in the back room of the bar, his back pressed against the cold wall as he stared at the ceiling, his mind wandering. The room was quiet. The smell of alcohol still hung in the air, a reminder of where he was, but for the first time in a long while, Toshi didn't feel like a ghost in his own life.

He wasn't exactly from this world. In his previous life, he had been nothing more than a college drop-out with no clear direction. There were no grand aspirations, no future plans. Just one poor decision after another, leading him further down a path of regret. He was broke. He had lived on the streets, scrounging for food, looking for a place to belong, only to be constantly rejected by those he turned to. Friends? Gone. Family? He'd been Abandoned.

Toshi never understood why he was left behind, why no one seemed to care. He thought about the people he tried to trust, only to be burned each time. He tried to rely on others, but in the end, he always ended up alone. It wasn't his fault, though, right? He had tried, hadn't he? It wasn't as if he had asked for this life.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe he had spent too much time chasing after others' help when he should have been helping himself.

Now, in this strange world, this new life, he found himself in the same situation. He had nothing to his name. He wasn't special, wasn't important. If he was being honest with himself, his entire existence could fit on a single page in a book, the rest of it a blur.

Toshi clenched his fists, a bitterness rising in his chest. He had been given another shot at life, yet it felt like he was still walking in circles. The same mistakes. The same outcomes. The same loneliness.

But something felt different about this place, this world. Maybe it was Raoul's offer, maybe it was the way he had treated him like more than just a stray. He wasn't sure if it was hope, or desperation, or just the possibility that for once in his life, someone actually cared.

With a slow exhale, Toshi pushed the thoughts of regret aside. He wasn't about to let himself drown in those feelings again. He had a second chance now, and that alone had to count for something.

He sat on the cot and leaned back, closing his eyes. Tomorrow was another day. And somehow, he would make it count.

To Be Continued.

_________________________________________________________________

__________________________

Want to read ahead? Check out my P@TREON.

( Patre0n.com/FictionGoat )