"Haha, thanks a bunch, Captain, and everyone else too—I really appreciate it!" Mark grinned broadly as he stood on the deck of the large ship, bowing slightly in gratitude.
"No need to thank us, really, it was nothing." The burly captain waved it off casually, sloshing the bottle of booze in his hand. "Name's Gurley Jaron, Captain of the Gigiriel. And you, kid? What's your name? How old are you? What were you doing on Kukos Island of all places? That's one of the most terrifying islands in all of the East Blue. Even the cockiest pirates steer clear of it. We only ended up there because a storm threw us off course two days ago."
"Oh, so that scary place is called Kukos Island!" Mark scratched his head, face falling into a pained expression. "I'm Chris T. Aeridar, sixteen. As for how I ended up there… well, that's a long story."
It was a tragic tale, and just thinking about it made Aeridar tear up all over again.
How was he supposed to know how he got there?
If he'd had a choice, he wouldn't have stayed on that godforsaken island for ten whole years!
"Well, Aeridar, no need to talk about painful memories." Captain Gurley Jaron, seeing the boy on the verge of tears, tactfully changed the subject.
Of course, part of the reason Gurley Jaron had so readily allowed Aeridar aboard was because no pirate crew in their right mind would hide out on a deathtrap like Kukos Island. Not in the East Blue, anyway. No pirate worth their salt—or that foolish—would risk an ambush there. And besides, the Gigiriel never would've neared the island if that storm hadn't blown them off course.
What's more, Jaron had a sharp eye, honed from years of travel. One look at Aeridar's beast-hide clothes, the bones and fangs adorning his gear, and the heavy bundle slung across his back, and he could tell—this kid was no weakling. If trouble showed up on their voyage, and they ended up in a pirate skirmish, someone like Aeridar would definitely return the favor for saving him. Jaron was confident in his own strength too; if he ever did go pirate, his bounty wouldn't be anything less than ten million Berries.
Seeing that the towering captain wasn't digging deeper, Aeridar let out a quiet sigh of relief. If Jaron had kept asking, he'd have had to make up an even bigger story. What was he supposed to say—"I'm actually from another world, and you're all characters from a manga where I come from"?
As for the name Chris T. Aeridar—he'd had that ready for a long time. Now that he had a second life in this world, it only felt right to leave his old identity behind. A new name for a new beginning.
The name came from the protagonist of a western fantasy novel he'd written back in college—one that had totally flopped. The original name was Aeridar Chris, but since names in the One Piece world followed the Eastern order (surname first, given name second), he'd flipped it.
As for the "T" in the middle… honestly, it didn't mean anything. Luffy and others had hidden "D" initials, right? So Aeridar figured, why not pick a letter too?
Why the letter "T"?
Totally random. Totally random. Totally random.
Important things deserve to be said three times: it meant absolutely nothing. Just a fluke of a pick.
(Note: from this point forward, the main character will be referred to as Chris T. Aeridar, not Mark.)
"So, where are you headed next?" Gurley Jaron took a swig of his drink, raising an eyebrow.
"Hm… if it's not too much trouble, just drop me off at the next island with people." Aeridar thought it over. With nowhere in particular to go in this world, any island with civilization would do.
"Sounds good. Next stop's an inhabited one anyway. Dimitri, show Aeridar to one of the spare cabins."
The towering captain clapped a firm hand on Aeridar's shoulder and called out, "It'll be three days before we reach Pasir Island. Get some rest in the meantime—I'll call you when we get there."
"Much appreciated." Nodding, Aeridar followed Dimitri up to the second deck.
"Hey, bro, you're seriously cool," said Dimitri, a cheerful young man who slung an arm around Aeridar's shoulder like they were already best friends. "You actually survived on Kukos Island? Dude, look at that outfit! Real beast hide, right? That's gotta be from some crazy predator. Looks better than the snow bear pelts we haul in for luxury coats!"
Though technically over thirty in mental age, Aeridar had been stuck on Kukos Island for ten years after transmigrating—his body frozen in a teenager's prime. And since all he did during that time was train, refine his Devil Fruit powers, and survive, his emotional age hadn't advanced much. So when he saw Dimitri admiring his gear with such starry eyes, his vanity swelled like a balloon.
Grinning, he tugged at his beast-hide tunic and said proudly, "Of course it is. This came from a sabertooth tiger, seven or eight meters long."
"Whoa! Seven or eight meters? That thing must've been terrifying!"
"Sure was," Aeridar said smugly. "Took me half a day to take it down."
He reached to his belt, pulled out a sleek, one-foot-long dagger, and handed it to Dimitri.
"By the way, I heard them say you were the one who spotted me first. Thanks for that. This here's made from that sabertooth's fang—razor-sharp, tough as steel. I want you to have it."
"For me?" Dimitri's eyes went wide. As a regular sailor, he never expected to be gifted something so valuable.
He wasn't a fighter, but he had a good eye from transporting high-end goods. The dagger was smooth as jade, a little rough around the edges, sure—but its edge was clean and its build solid. A blade made from one of Kukos Island's apex predators? Worth a small fortune on the black market.
"Of course. I carved it myself. It's a bit rough, but I hope you don't mind."
Before Dimitri could even protest, Aeridar stuffed the fang dagger into his hands.
"Not at all! Thank you so much—this is the best gift I've ever gotten!" Dimitri clutched the dagger with stars in his eyes, turning it over in admiration.
"Haha, don't be like that. We're friends now, aren't we?" Aeridar slung an arm over his shoulder with a big grin.
"We sure are!" Dimitri laughed, his joy as infectious as his grin.
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