Before I woke up in this world, I had a life—one that, by all means, could be called ordinary. I had a stable job, a caring family, and a routine that never strayed far from comfort. My world revolved around predictable cycles—morning coffee, commutes, deadlines, and the reassuring hum of familiarity. But among all that, there was one passion that burned brighter than the rest—One Piece.
I had been a fan for as long as I could remember. The world Oda crafted, its vast oceans, unbreakable dreams, and the spirit of adventure had captivated me since childhood. I lived for the weekly chapter releases, the debates, the theories. And then came that moment—the last thing I remember before waking up here.
The reveal of Shamrock. The Three World Painting in Elbaph. The pieces of the grand puzzle finally falling into place. My heart had pounded in my chest as I stared at the screen, taking in the implications of that twist. And then… nothing. Darkness.
And now, I was here.
A world I had once adored as fiction now stretched before me in breathtaking reality. But there were no overpowered cheats, no system guiding my journey, no miraculous power-ups waiting to be unlocked. Just me, a seven-year-old boy with no past, no name, and no purpose in this universe.
Even worse, this was not the One Piece I knew.
No Luffy. No destiny woven by the whims of fate. No carefree boy in a straw hat dreaming of becoming the Pirate King. Instead, I was in a version of this world that felt… incomplete. Ace was here, but he was different—angrier, lonelier. Garp visited but barely spared me a glance. And Shanks… Shanks had never even set foot in Foosha Village.
I struggled to find my place in this world. Makino, in her infinite kindness, had taken me in, but I could not rely on her forever. I was weak. Helpless. In a world where strength determined survival, I had nothing. No plan. No clear path forward.
At night, I lay awake, staring at the wooden ceiling of the small room Makino let me use. The quiet hum of the village outside did little to calm my racing thoughts. How could I survive here? How could I find meaning in this existence when everything I once knew was gone?
Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and still, I remained lost. Every day, I worked at the bar, serving drinks, cleaning tables, listening to the murmurs of sailors and merchants who passed through. Every conversation was a reminder of how vast this world was—and how insignificant I had become within it.
But deep down, something stirred. A whisper of defiance. Maybe I had been thrown into this world for a reason. Maybe there was something I could change, something I could carve for myself.
Maybe… it was time to stop mourning what I had lost and start looking toward what I could become.
This was the world of One Piece. And I was here to stay.