The days blurred into one another as Raizen sailed across the endless expanse of the Grand Line. The world seemed indifferent to his journey, a vast, uncaring ocean that swallowed everything in its wake. But for Raizen, it was a canvas waiting to be painted — with the blood of those who dared to stand in his way.
The ship creaked under his feet as he stood at the edge of the deck, his eyes scanning the horizon. The mark on his chest still burned, though the intensity of the pain had dulled to a constant, smoldering reminder of the power he had claimed. Every breath felt charged with energy, as though the very air around him was alive with dark potential. His body had changed — he could feel the difference. His senses were sharper, his reflexes faster. The Devil's power was coursing through him, twisting him into something more than human, more than just a survivor of Noctis Island.
Raizen didn't know what he was becoming, but he no longer cared.
A shadow fell over the deck, and Raizen's gaze snapped to the source. A figure appeared at the base of the ship's mast, its silhouette outlined by the setting sun. A man, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a weathered face that spoke of countless battles. His clothes were simple, yet there was a confidence in the way he moved — a surety that came only from experience.
Raizen didn't need to ask who he was. He knew.
"Captain," the man said, his voice deep and gravelly. "We've reached our destination."
Raizen gave a single nod, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at the land in the distance. The island ahead was small, but it was known in these parts as a dangerous haven for pirates and outlaws alike. The kind of place where lawless men and women came to hide, to fight, to scheme. Perfect.
"Good," Raizen muttered, his voice low, his focus on the island. "Get the crew ready. We make landfall in an hour."
The man nodded again and turned to give orders to the crew. Raizen watched him go, his mind focused on the task ahead. This was his first step. The first step in a long and bloody journey.
The ship docked on the island under the cover of darkness. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and the promise of violence. Raizen felt a strange thrill in his chest. The island was a haven for criminals, a breeding ground for those who had nowhere else to go. Perfect. If he could crush the strongest here, the message would spread. He would show the world that he was no mere survivor — he was a force of nature.
Raizen's footsteps echoed on the wooden planks of the dock as he made his way down the gangplank. His crew followed behind him, weapons at the ready, eyes scanning the shadows. The streets of the island were narrow and winding, lit only by flickering lanterns that cast eerie shadows against the buildings. It was a place where anything could happen, where danger lurked around every corner.
The Devil's voice echoed in his mind, a constant companion now. "Remember, Raizen. Power is not a gift. It is a tool. A weapon. And weapons are meant to be used."
Raizen's lips curled into a smile as he felt the weight of the power in his chest. This island would be his proving ground. He would make an example of it.
It didn't take long for Raizen to find what he was looking for.
In the heart of the island, a large tavern stood, its doors swinging open as the sounds of laughter and shouting spilled into the street. Inside, pirates and mercenaries drank and gambled, unaware of the storm that was about to descend upon them.
Raizen pushed the doors open with a casual ease, stepping inside with his crew at his back. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him, the tension in the air thick as smoke. The patrons stared at Raizen, sizing him up, calculating whether he was a threat or just another fool walking into the lion's den.
Raizen's eyes scanned the room, settling on the man sitting at the far end of the bar. He was large, with a rough beard and a heavy, ironclad frame that could have crushed a smaller man in a single blow. The kind of man who thought he owned the place.
Raizen didn't waste time.
He walked forward, his boots echoing with every step. As he passed by the tables, people leaned back, giving him space. They had heard the stories — tales of a silver-haired boy with power beyond reason. The rumors had spread quickly, as rumors tend to do among pirates and thieves.
When Raizen reached the man at the bar, he didn't even look at him. He simply leaned against the counter, his gaze fixed on the bartender who nervously wiped a glass with a rag.
"I'm looking for a challenge," Raizen said, his voice low, but carrying enough weight that it seemed to fill the room. "Someone with real power. Someone who's willing to fight."
The man at the bar finally looked up, his eyes narrowing. He stood, a towering figure who loomed over Raizen, his fists clenched.
"You're the one they've been talking about, huh?" the man growled. "The boy with the power. You think you can just walk in here and challenge me?"
Raizen didn't flinch. He didn't even smile.
"I'm not here to play games," he said coldly. "I'm here to prove something. To show you that I can take everything you have and still leave you gasping for breath."
The man snarled and swung a massive fist toward Raizen. But the boy was faster.
With a swift movement, Raizen drew his sword, the blade glinting in the low light. He sliced through the air with such speed that the man didn't even have time to react. The sword struck his wrist, severing the arm cleanly at the elbow.
The man screamed in pain, collapsing to the floor as the room erupted into chaos. Raizen stood over him, his eyes cold and unfeeling as he surveyed the destruction he had caused.
"Is there anyone else?" Raizen asked, his voice calm and chilling.
The room was dead silent. Not a single soul dared to challenge him.
An hour later, the tavern was empty. Raizen's crew had dealt with the remaining thugs who had foolishly tried to stand against them.
Raizen stood at the bar, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction as he ordered a drink. His hand hovered over the glass as the bartender hesitated.
"You don't want to cross me," Raizen said, his tone colder than ice. "Tell them I'm here. Tell every pirate on this island that the boy with the mark is here to take everything."
The bartender nodded quickly, fear etched into his face. Raizen took a long sip from the glass, his mind already turning toward the next step in his plan.
The first step had been taken. Now, the world would see the beginning of his rise to power.
End of Chapter 6: The First Step