Day 71 | Location: Loguetown, East Blue
I materialize in what appears to be an abandoned storage room, dust motes swirling in shafts of sunlight breaking through boarded windows. My head spins briefly---teleportation always feels like your brain arrives three seconds after your body.
"Successful transmission," Red Queen's voice comes through my earpiece. "Bioreadouts normal. Local area secure."
I take a moment to steady myself, looking around at stacked crates and forgotten barrels. Perfect landing spot---secluded, abandoned, but within the settlement. The air smells of salt, fish, and weathered wood.
"I'm in," I whisper. "Beginning reconnaissance."
First order of business: confirm my suspicions. I need to know if this is truly the One Piece world, what timeline I've landed in, and whether events match what I remember from my first life.
I carefully push open the door of the storage building, wincing at the creak of rusted hinges. Outside, sunlight momentarily blinds me before my eyes adjust to reveal... precisely what I expected.
Loguetown sprawls before me, a bustling port city with wooden buildings rising two or three stories, cobblestone streets, and the unmistakable scent of the sea. People bustle past---fishermen with their catches, merchants hawking wares, what appear to be ordinary civilians going about their lives.
And in the distance, rising above it all, the execution platform where Gold Roger died.
A lump forms in my throat as I take it all in. This isn't some fantasy anymore. This is real. This is the world that had captured my imagination throughout my first life, the story I'd followed for years from the comfort of my room.
Now I'm standing in it.
"Captain? Your heart rate is elevated again." Red Queen's voice pulls me from my reverie.
"It's... nothing," I murmur, pulling my hood lower and stepping into the flow of pedestrian traffic. "Just taking it all in."
The people of Loguetown pay me little mind. My clothing might be unusual, but not wildly out of place in a port town used to visitors from across the seas. What strikes me immediately is how... clean everything is. For a pre-industrial society, the streets are well-maintained, the buildings sturdy and colorful. People look healthy, well-fed.
I listen carefully as I walk, letting my translator implant analyze the language patterns. Within minutes, it has compiled enough data to begin real-time translation, feeding me both the meaning and proper pronunciation of this world's tongue.
A woman bumps into me at a corner, nearly dropping her basket of bread. "Sorry, young man!" she says, and my translator seamlessly converts her words.
"No problem," I reply, the device modulating my voice to produce what should sound like perfectly natural speech to her ears.
She smiles and continues on her way. First contact: successful and utterly mundane. Relief washes through me.
My first priority is gathering information. I need currency, and I need to establish what year it is in the One Piece timeline. With careful steps, I make my way toward what appears to be a commercial district.
A jewelry shop catches my eye---perfect. I reach into my pocket, feeling the small pouch of gemstones I'd brought specifically for trading. These weren't just any gems; they were perfectly formed crystalline structures I'd created using the Nano-forge, flawless in their clarity but not so perfect they'd seem suspicious.
The shopkeeper---a portly man with an impressive mustache---looks up as I enter. His eyes briefly widen at my appearance before settling into a merchant's practiced smile.
"Good day, traveler! What brings you to my humble establishment?"
I pull back my hood slightly, offering a friendly smile in return. "I've been journeying for some time and find myself in need of local currency. I was hoping you might be interested in trading for these."
I place three small gemstones on the counter---a sapphire, a ruby, and a small diamond. Nothing too flashy, but certainly valuable.
The man's eyebrows shoot up. He picks up the ruby, examining it with a jeweler's loupe. "Interesting cut... very fine quality..." he mutters.
After examining all three, he looks up at me with newfound respect. "These are excellent specimens, young man. May I ask where you acquired them?"
"Family heirlooms," I lie smoothly. "I've been saving them for emergencies."
He nods sympathetically. "And I suppose this qualifies as such. Very well, I can offer you 500,000 berries for all three. A fair price, I assure you."
I consider for a moment. I have no real reference for the local economy yet, but the man's eager expression tells me these gems are worth considerably more. Still, I need to establish myself, not antagonize local merchants.
"Make it 600,000 and we have a deal," I counter, just to maintain appearances.
He hesitates, then smiles. "You drive a hard bargain. 550,000?"
"Done."
The transaction complete, I walk out with a pouch of berries---paper notes and coins that jingle pleasantly. Step one complete.
Next, I need information. Spotting a newspaper vendor, I purchase the day's edition, scanning the date immediately.
February 7, 1521\.
My heart nearly stops. If my memory serves correctly, Luffy sets out on his journey sometime in 1522\. Which means...
I'm one year before the story begins.
A year before Luffy punches Alvida. Before he meets Zoro. Before the Straw Hat Pirates even exist.
I find a quiet bench and flip through the newspaper, absorbing everything. The headlines speak of Marine activities, pirate captures, some trade dispute in the North Blue. A small article mentions unrest in the Goa Kingdom, which makes me wonder if that has anything to do with Luffy, Ace, and Sabo's childhood home.
The wanted posters section is particularly fascinating. None of the names I recognize from the series are there---no Straw Hats (obviously), no Shanks, no Whitebeard. Instead, there are dozens of low-bounty pirates with ridiculous names like "Sawfish" McGraw (bounty: 6,000,000 berries) and "Gentleman" Jameson (bounty:
2 Million berries).
I can't help but snort at one particularly amusing poster---a pirate called "Terror of the East" whose fearsome epithet is completely undermined by his goofy, cross-eyed expression and bounty of just 5,000,000 berries.
"Captain," Red Queen's voice comes through my earpiece. "Marine personnel detected in your vicinity."
I look up to see a patrol of white-uniformed Marines walking down the street. They move with a disciplined stride, muskets slung over their shoulders. Civilians respectfully make way for them, some even offering friendly greetings.
These aren't the corrupt Marines from certain arcs of the series---these appear to be the kind that actually protect people. Still, I pull my hood lower as they pass. No sense risking attention.
Once they're gone, I refold the newspaper and consider my next moves. I need more comprehensive information about this world---history books, maps, current events.
"Excuse me," I ask the newspaper vendor. "Is there a library or bookstore nearby?"
He points down a side street. "Loguetown Archives are three blocks that way. If you're looking to buy, Old Man Beckman's bookshop is just past the market square."
I thank him and head toward the archives first. Knowledge is power, especially when you're an alien in a world that shouldn't exist.
The Loguetown Archives turn out to be a modest building with impressive wooden doors. Inside, shelves of books and scrolls stretch from floor to ceiling. A few scholars and what appear to be off-duty Marines browse the collections.
For the next three hours, I immerse myself in this world's recorded history. I confirm what I already suspected---the major events from the One Piece manga are historically accurate here. The Void Century, the formation of the World Government, the Great Pirate Era sparked by Gold Roger's execution right here in Loguetown.
What's fascinating are the details I never knew---the complex taxation systems of different kingdoms, the cultural practices that vary island to island, the technological inconsistencies that somehow work in this world. Den Den Mushi for communication alongside sailing ships that wouldn't look out of place in Earth's 17th century.
By late afternoon, my head is swimming with information. I've verified my location, the timeline, and that this world follows the basic structure I remember from the manga. But it's one thing to read about the Grand Line---it's another to potentially sail it.
Which raises the big question: what am I going to do now?
I find a small dockside tavern and order food---my first real meal on this planet. The server brings me something called "East Blue Chowder" and a mug of what turns out to be surprisingly good ale.
As I eat, watching fishermen unload their catches and merchants argue over prices, I consider my options.
I could simply observe. Stay on the sidelines, watch the story unfold as Luffy and his crew change the world. That would be the safe choice.
Or I could intervene. My knowledge of future events, combined with my Devilukean physiology and wish power, could alter the course of history here. I could prevent tragedies, save lives, maybe even change the fate of entire nations.
But would that be right? Who am I to decide how this world should develop?
A commotion at the bar interrupts my philosophical crisis. A burly man with a scrappy beard is shouting at the bartender.
"Whadda ya mean you're out of rum? This is a bar, ain't it?"
The bartender, a thin man with nervous eyes, stammers, "The shipment's delayed, sir. Storm off the coast---"
"I don't care about no storm! I want my drink!"
I watch, assessing. Not a pirate---no bounty I'd seen matched this guy. Just a garden variety bully. Several patrons shift uncomfortably but don't intervene.
It's such a small thing. Insignificant in the grand scheme of this world's destiny. But as I watch the bartender's mounting distress, I make a decision.
Standing, I approach the bar, leaning casually against it. "Hey," I say to the angry customer, keeping my voice light. "Maybe try the ale instead? It's surprisingly good."
The man turns bloodshot eyes toward me, looking me up and down with a sneer. "Who asked you, fancy boy?"
I smile, unperturbed. "Just offering a suggestion. Seems like getting angry over rum when there's plenty of alternatives doesn't make much sense."
"You calling me stupid?" He stands, towering over me by at least a foot.
"Not at all," I reply, still smiling. "I'm calling you loud. And possibly drunk already."
The tavern goes quiet. In my ear, Red Queen whispers, "Captain, your heart rate indicates you're deliberately provoking confrontation."
Yes, I am. Because sometimes you need to test the waters. See how things work. And maybe, just maybe, I need to know if I can make even a tiny difference in this world.
The man lunges with a roar, fist swinging toward my face with all the subtlety of a cannonball.
Time seems to slow. My enhanced reflexes---courtesy of Day 65's wish upgrade---make his movement appear almost comically sluggish. I step slightly to the left, allowing his fist to pass harmlessly beside my ear. The momentum carries him forward, and I give him a gentle nudge that sends him sprawling across an empty table.
He crashes to the floor in a heap of limbs and curses.
The tavern patrons stare in shocked silence. Then the bully rises, face contorted with rage. He reaches for something at his belt---a knife, I realize---and charges again.
This time I don't just dodge. I catch his wrist mid-strike, applying precisely enough pressure to make him gasp and drop the blade. Then I twist---not enough to break anything, just enough to demonstrate that I absolutely could if I wanted to.
"I think you've had enough for today," I say quietly. "How about you go home and come back when the rum shipment arrives?"
I release him with a small push toward the door. The man stumbles, clutching his wrist, looking at me with new respect tinged with fear.
"Who the hell are you?" he demands.
A perfectly reasonable question. One I hadn't fully answered for myself yet.
"Just a traveler," I reply with a shrug. "Passing through."
The man gives me one last glare before stalking out. The tavern erupts in chatter, several patrons clapping me on the back as I return to my seat.
The bartender approaches with a fresh mug of ale. "On the house," he says with a grateful smile. "Don't see many strangers standing up to Brick-Fist Boyd."
"Brick-Fist, huh?" I can't help but chuckle. "Seemed more like Clay-Fist to me."
This earns me a round of laughter from nearby tables.
"Never caught your name, friend," the bartender says, extending a hand. "I'm Denny."
I hesitate only briefly before taking his hand. "Kai," I reply, the name coming naturally to my lips. It was short, easy to remember, and close enough to my Devilukean designation to feel authentic.
"Well, Kai, you're welcome at the Seaward Star anytime," Denny says with a warm smile.
As I sip my free ale, watching the sunset paint the harbor in gold and crimson, I feel a strange sense of contentment. This small interaction would never make the history books. It wouldn't change the course of this world's future or affect Luffy's journey.
But for one moment, I'd made a choice. I'd acted instead of just observing.
It was a start.
Night falls on Loguetown, lanterns flickering to life along the streets. I find modest lodgings at an inn called "The Sleeping Swordfish," paying for a week in advance. The room is small but clean, with a window overlooking the bustling night market.
As I stand at that window, watching the people below go about their lives---lives that, to me, had once been just ink on paper---I make my decision.
I won't just observe this world. I won't try to control it either.
But I will be part of it.
"Red Queen," I whisper into my communicator, "begin research on small sailing vessels. I think I'm going to need a boat."
"May I ask why, Captain?" Her voice holds a hint of concern.
I smile as I watch a group of children run past below, playing some game involving sticks meant to be swords. One wears a paper hat that, in the dim light, almost looks like straw.
"Because I've always wanted to see the Grand Line."
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. I'd need to learn to sail, acquire maps, perhaps even find a small ship for travel.
But for tonight, I simply watch and wonder. The One Piece world spreads before me---not as pages in a manga or episodes of an anime, but as a living, breathing reality. A reality where, one year from now, a boy in a straw hat would set sail and change everything.
And somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, adventures were waiting. For Luffy. For me. For all of us.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Day 72 | Location: Loguetown, East Blue
Morning comes with the cry of seagulls and the distant bells of ships entering the harbor. I rise early, refreshed despite the unfamiliar bed. My first full day in the One Piece world stretches before me with possibility.
After a quick breakfast in the inn's common room---dense bread with honey and something called "sea plum jam"---I head toward the docks. If I'm going to navigate this world, I need to learn its most fundamental skill: sailing.
The wharf bustles with activity even at this early hour. Fishermen mend nets, merchants unload cargo, and sailors of all descriptions move with the practiced efficiency of those who live by the tide's schedule.
I approach a weathered old man repairing a small skiff. His hands move with practiced precision, tying knots I can't even begin to name.
"Excuse me," I say, keeping my tone respectful. "I'm looking to learn about sailing. Would you know who might teach someone?"
The old man squints up at me, his face a map of sun-etched lines. "Learn sailing? What for? You a merchant's son?"
"No, sir," I reply honestly. "Just a traveler who wants to understand the sea better."
He grunts, returning to his knots. "Try Taki at the southern pier. He takes on students sometimes. Tell him Genzo sent you."
I thank him and move on, following his directions to the southern pier. There I find a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a short ponytail, busy loading supplies onto a modest fishing boat.
"Are you Taki?" I call from the dock.
He pauses, straightening his back with a slight wince. "Depends who's asking."
"My name's Kai," I offer, stepping closer. "Genzo suggested I speak with you about sailing lessons."
Taki's weathered face breaks into an unexpected smile. "Did he now? Old barnacle actually remembering my name? Must be getting soft in his age."
He jumps from his boat to the dock with surprising agility, looking me up and down with an appraising eye. "You don't look like a sailor."
"I'm not," I admit. "Yet."
"Why learn now? Most folks around here start as children."
I consider my answer carefully. "I've spent most of my life... elsewhere. But I've always been drawn to the sea. Now I have the chance to actually sail it."
Taki studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Fair enough. But I don't work for free. Five thousand berries for two weeks of lessons."
"That's steeper than I expected," I reply, though the amount is trivial given my current funds.
"You're paying for forty years of experience, boy," Taki says without apology. "Take it or find someone else."
I smile, liking his directness. "I'll take it. When do we start?"
"Right now," he says, gesturing to his boat. "Hop aboard the Minnow and let's see what you're made of."
My first sailing lesson begins immediately and continues until sunset. Taki is a demanding teacher but remarkably clear in his instructions. By day's end, I'm exhausted, my hands raw from rope burns, but I've learned the basics of maneuvering a small vessel in calm harbor waters.
"Not terrible," Taki grudgingly admits as we secure the boat for the evening. "You've got good balance. Most landlubbers spend half their first day feeding the fishes."
I take the compliment with a nod, flexing my sore fingers. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Sunrise," he confirms. "And bring gloves. Those soft hands of yours won't last another day like this."
As I walk back through town, muscles aching pleasantly from honest work, I stop to purchase sailing gloves and a few nautical charts from a local supplier. The shopkeeper, an elderly woman with bright eyes, seems pleased by my selections.
"Planning a journey, young man?" she asks as she wraps my purchases.
"Eventually," I reply with a smile. "For now, just learning the ways of the sea."
"A wise pursuit in these parts," she says, handing me my package. "Though these days, with pirates everywhere, sailing can be dangerous."
I thank her for the warning and continue on my way, stopping for a quick meal at a different tavern than yesterday. As I eat, I study the charts I've purchased, cross-referencing them with my memories of the One Piece world's geography.
The day ends with a hot bath to soothe my aching muscles and quiet contemplation in my room. I've taken my first steps toward true independence in this world.
"Red Queen," I murmur as I drift toward sleep, "progress report on storage technology integration."
"Processing, Captain," her voice responds softly. "Current calculations suggest full integration of Devilukean dimensional storage technology with local materials will require approximately five more days."
Perfect. By the time I've learned enough sailing from Taki, I should have my own version of a "storage ring"---far more practical than constantly returning to the ship for supplies.
Sleep claims me quickly, dreams filled with endless blue horizons and distant islands waiting to be discovered.