Only the strong can survive. Nowhere was this truth more evident than on the island of Kutsukku, located in the heart of the South Blue. Unaffiliated with the World Government, the island stood outside the reach of marine protection, leaving it vulnerable to chaos and lawlessness.
What was once a bustling, vibrant island now became a haven for crime and corruption. Without the stabilizing force of the Marines, Kutsukku fell prey to the greed and violence of its inhabitants. As power-hungry individuals and factions rose to take control, four ruthless gangs emerged, each claiming a piece of the island as their own.
The gangs' unending battle for dominance fractured the island, turning it into a war zone. The people of Kutsukku were caught in the crossfire—trapped in a cycle of violence that only grew more intense with each passing day. The streets, once filled with the hustle and bustle of daily life, were now bloodstained and dangerous.
With no one to govern and no law to protect the innocent, the island's infrastructure crumbled. Basic necessities became scarce, and the people were forced to fend for themselves. Famine spread across the land, and poverty gripped the hearts of every corner of Kutsukku. Survival was no longer a choice—it was a brutal, daily struggle.
Kutsukku had become a place where the only rule was that the strong ruled and the weak perished. In this unforgiving world, the island's future seemed bleak, its fate sealed by the endless battle for control among the gangs and the suffering of its people.
Amidst the chaos of the war on Kutsukku, Lucian D. Alexander lost his parents. They were caught in the crossfire of a gang battle that escalated into a brutal massacre, leaving him alone in a world filled with violence and desperation. From that day forward, Lucian's life was no longer about living—it was about surviving.
With no one to turn to and no one to trust, he quickly learned the harsh reality of Kutsukku. Theft became his means of sustenance, and fighting his only defense. Whether it was food, supplies, or information, Lucian had to steal to stay alive. The once-innocent boy was forced to adapt to the brutal world around him, learning how to pick locks, avoid detection, and fight off anyone who threatened his existence.
Four years later
As always, Alexander was roaming through the Apple Tree Fields, weaving between the thick trunks and long grass, desperately trying to escape from one of the gangs led by Eustass Kid. The gang's members, known for their brute strength and lack of mercy, were hot on his trail after he had stolen some money and a treasure chest from them just an hour ago.
The treasure chest, a small but sturdy box adorned with intricate carvings, had caught his eye in one of their hideouts. While the money was an easy target, the chest was a stroke of luck—an opportunity too good to pass up. He wasn't sure what was inside, but he knew it would be valuable enough to buy him a few more days of safety. That was, of course, if he managed to stay ahead of the gang.
His breath quickened as he darted between trees, the sound of footsteps growing louder behind him. He could feel the eyes of Eustass Kid's men on him, their anger simmering with each passing second. They weren't known for letting a thief go easily.
Fortunately, Alexander managed to lose them by veering off the main path and making a sharp turn into a narrow trail hidden deep within the Apple Tree Fields. It was a shortcut he had discovered long ago, a path only he knew well enough to navigate.
As the gang members' voices faded into the distance, he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't out of danger yet, but for now, he was safe. His heart still raced, the adrenaline of the chase still pumping through his veins.
He quickly made his way to his hideout, a small, concealed shack tucked away under the dense foliage at the edge of the field. It was his sanctuary, hidden from the prying eyes of the gangs and anyone else who might want to harm him. Inside, he set down the treasure chest and money, wiping the sweat from his brow.
For now, he had won—surviving another day in the unforgiving world of Kutsukku.
Alexander's shack was quite impressive, though not in the way most would expect. Impressive only in the sense that it was still standing. Made from a patchwork of scavenged wood, discarded planks, and tattered blankets, it barely resembled a structure capable of offering any real protection. Yet, it had stood the test of time, a testament to Alexander's resourcefulness and determination.
Inside, the small space was crammed with the odd assortment of items he had accumulated over the years. The floor was uneven, covered with a mix of old cloths and makeshift furniture. What truly made the shack unique, though, were the books—scores of them stacked in haphazard piles, some resting on shelves he had built himself from spare wood.
Most of the books were ones he had stolen from merchants, old stores, or even the occasional gang hideout. Others were bought with the little money he managed to scrape together, and a few were even borrowed, never to be returned. They ranged from simple novels to more technical texts, manuals, and journals he had come across. For Alexander, these books were more than just paper and ink; they were windows into a world far beyond Kutsukku, a world he could only dream of exploring.
He sat down on a worn-out chair, pushing the pile of books aside to make room. As he opened the treasure chest, his eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and caution. Whatever was inside, it might just be the key to changing his life for a little while longer.
As Alexander carefully pried open the treasure chest, a sense of curiosity flooded his mind. Inside, nestled in the soft fabric that lined the bottom, was a strange fruit. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
The fruit had a smooth, glossy surface that shimmered with an otherworldly sheen. Its color was an intense shade of violet, almost as if it were glowing faintly in the dim light of the shack. The shape was unique, too—round and bulbous, with several spirals etched into its skin, resembling the twisting pull of a whirlpool.
His fingers hovered over it, unsure at first, but then the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.
It was a Devil Fruit.
He had heard the stories—the legends of these mysterious fruits that granted strange and powerful abilities to those who ate them. On an island like Kutsukku, where survival was a daily battle, the thought of gaining such power was both alluring and terrifying. Alexander had no idea what this particular fruit could do, but he knew one thing for sure—it was a Devil Fruit, and that alone made it incredibly dangerous.
Those who ate a Devil Fruit gained extraordinary abilities, but at a terrible cost—their bodies would never float in water again. The seas would become their enemy, and they would sink like stones, unable to swim.
Alexander's heart raced as he stared at the fruit. On an island like Kutsukku, where survival meant constantly looking over your shoulder, the fruit's power could be either a blessing or a curse. He had heard about people with incredible abilities, some of whom controlled entire territories with the strength granted by their Devil Fruits. But those same powers often made them targets for everyone, from gang leaders to bounty hunters.
For a long moment, Alexander simply stared at the fruit, lost in thought. He didn't know what he should do, but one thing was certain—the decision he made now could change the course of his life forever.
Despite being incredibly intelligent—some would even call him a genius—Alexander's sharp mind had always been his greatest asset. It was his quick thinking, his ability to learn, trick, and fool those around him that kept him alive. He had a natural gift for deception, often outsmarting others to get what he needed, whether it was food, shelter, or safety.
But there was one thing Alexander lacked: strength. At just nine years old, he was still a child, too small and too weak to match the adult gangs and criminals who roamed the island. His intelligence could only take him so far. When his scams were discovered, and the inevitable pursuit began, he found himself trapped, unable to escape as quickly as he could think. On those occasions, the gangs didn't hesitate to teach him a brutal lesson.
Three times, he had been caught, and each time, the beating was severe. The first time, a gang member grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against a wall. The second, they had thrown him into a pit, leaving him to fight for his life. The third time, they nearly broke his arm before he was finally able to talk his way out of the situation, using his wit to convince them he was no threat.
Despite these close calls, Alexander never gave up. He learned from each failure, adapting his tricks and schemes to be more clever, more subtle, and harder to catch. He knew that without strength, he would need to rely even more on his mind if he wanted to survive Kutsukku.
Alexander had always dreamed of leaving Kutsukku. He wanted to escape the lawless island, see the world beyond, and experience a life of freedom, away from the gangs and constant danger. But at his age, only nine, there were many obstacles standing in his way. Stealing was one thing, but navigating a boat across the vast sea was a whole other challenge, something far beyond his reach.
The Devil Fruit in his hands represented a possible way out. If it gave him a power, it might be enough to help him survive the dangers of the island—and maybe even leave it behind forever. But as he pondered, a thought lingered in the back of his mind. Not all Devil Fruits granted godlike abilities, as he had heard. Some were practically useless, their powers more of a curse than a gift. He had no way of knowing if this one would be the exception or not.
But as he sat there in his shack, reflecting on the harsh reality of his life, he came to a conclusion. His life on Kutsukku was far from a dream. It was a constant battle to survive, and things couldn't possibly get any worse. Even if this Devil Fruit gave him a useless power, he would make it work. He had no other choice. This could be his only shot at escaping, and he wasn't about to let fear of the unknown stop him.
Without hesitation, he bit into the fruit.
The taste was horrendous—bitter, sour, and overwhelmingly disgusting. It felt like a thousand foul flavors all at once, flooding his mouth. He gagged, trying to suppress the urge to spit it out, but the fruit's flesh was already starting to take effect. He could feel something strange happening inside him, a weird warmth spreading through his body, as if the fruit had injected him with a new kind of energy—something foreign, something...unnatural.
Alexander fought the urge to recoil, but the taste still lingered on his tongue, making his stomach churn. Despite the revolting sensation, he remained determined, unwilling to let the fruit's taste deter him. This was it. There was no turning back now.
After Alexander managed to rid his mouth of the lingering taste with an apple, he sat back, feeling the strange energy inside him but unable to make sense of it. He had heard the tales of Devil Fruits—how some users could transform into animals, others could control elements like fire or water. But nothing in his body seemed to change. His limbs felt the same, his skin untouched by any strange transformation.
He clenched his fists and focused on his hands, trying to summon something, anything. Fire, maybe, like the stories of other Devil Fruit users. He concentrated, his mind racing as he attempted to feel the power awaken within him. But nothing happened. No flames erupted from his palms, no sudden surge of heat.
Frustrated, Alexander let out a long sigh. His mind began to race through every possibility. What if his power was useless? What if he had just made the wrong decision? He began pacing back and forth, his mind spiraling with self-doubt. The thought of being stuck on Kutsukku forever without any way to escape was unbearable.
In a fit of frustration, he turned around to grab a book, hoping to distract himself and take his mind off the situation. But as his eyes shifted across the room, his heart skipped a beat.
All the metallic objects in the shack—old cans, tools, pieces of scrap metal—were floating in the air around him. He blinked, his breath catching in his throat. The objects hung suspended, as if gravity had lost its grip on them.
"What...?" Alexander whispered in shock, staring at the floating pieces of metal. He hadn't even thought about it, hadn't tried to summon this at all. Yet here it was, happening before his eyes.
He reached out instinctively, and as if drawn by some invisible force, a large metal wrench drifted toward his hand, hovering just above his outstretched fingers. His mind raced, trying to comprehend what was happening.
The power wasn't what he had expected, but it was power, nonetheless. And for the first time, Alexander felt a spark of hope. His Devil Fruit had given him the ability to manipulate metal, to control it . This could be the key to his freedom.
Excited by this new revelation, Alexander couldn't help but start experimenting with his newfound ability. He reached out, his fingers twitching as he focused on the metal objects around him. At first, he only managed to make a few cans gently float in the air, but with each attempt, the feeling grew stronger, clearer. It wasn't like he was simply moving the metal by force of will—it was more as if something in the air around him had shifted, a subtle, unseen pull.
He carefully set one of the cans back down, then grabbed a larger piece of scrap metal. This time, when he focused on it, he felt the pull of the magnetic field around it. He watched, wide-eyed, as the metal object began to slowly rise, floating and spinning in the air as if caught in an invisible current. His heart raced with excitement. He wasn't just moving the metal; he was controlling it, like the force of a magnet, but stronger, sharper.
The longer he played with it, the more he understood. With a simple focus of his energy, he could pull metal objects toward him or push them away, manipulating their position at will. The magnetic field around him seemed to respond to his thoughts, pulling the metal as though it were a part of him.
As the night settled in, the shack grew darker. The only light came from a small, flickering candle in the corner. Alexander continued experimenting, his excitement growing with each passing minute. He realized that it wasn't just the metal he could control, but also the strength of the magnetic field itself. He could move larger pieces of scrap, send them flying through the air, or make them hover just inches above the ground, as if suspended by an invisible force.
As the hours passed, Alexander's understanding of his power deepened. It wasn't just telekinesis; it was something entirely different. He was controlling the magnetic field itself, manipulating it to move metal. The possibilities seemed endless. He could lift nearly anything made of metal, perhaps even armor or weapons—an idea that made his heart race with both excitement and a sense of newfound purpose.
By the time the moon hung high in the sky, Alexander realized that his power was not just a tool; it was a weapon. And as he stood in the quiet of the night, surrounded by the floating metallic objects in his shack, he felt more determined than ever. This power could change everything for him, for the first time giving him an edge on the harsh island of Kutsukku.