Arman—no, that wasn't his name anymore. No one in this village knew who he was.
Thinking about this, he was roaming through the market, confused and dazed. A woman in her mid-20s at a fish stall shrugged and said to him, "You're late again. If you come late next time, no more excuses—I'll replace you with another boy to work for me."
He was surprised someone knew him. He thought, This boy must be working here.
The woman said again, "Don't just space out in the road and block the view of customers. Come here and handle them."
Her name was Nana—the owner of a small fish stall in a corner of the market.
At the end of the day, when he was helping Nana, she asked, "Who won?"
He was confused. He didn't know what to say.
She continued, "Don't hide it. Everyone here knew you were going to fight with some boys from the other village."
He looked around. Everyone who had stalls near this corner of the market was watching him, waiting for his answer. Suddenly, an old man who sold seafood near Nana's stall said, "Don't tease him. Don't you see his whole body is covered in bruises? Even after that, he came here and worked to feed his family."
Hearing the word family from the old man, his eyes filled with tears. He knew it wasn't his family, but the family of the boy whose body he now lived in.
Seeing his tears, Nana said, "Sorry—sorry! Stop crying. I won't ask about it anymore. You're free for today, but only for today. I'm not letting you go home early after this. And take these fish and say 'hello' to Ms. Saint at the orphanage."
He was confused and asked, "Orphanage?"
Nana said, "What? Did you forget where you live, you little—"
Before she could finish, he started running.
The old man smacked Nana lightly on the back of the head. "You made him run off."
The old man asked, "You're making him work harder than any other day, even seeing all those bruises?"
Nana replied, "I'm showing him that the world is cruel. No one here thinks about anyone else. It's all to make him mentally strong."
Hearing that, the old man smacked her again and said, "You just wanted to rest, you little blockhead."
He was running through the woods, not even knowing where he was going, his eyes full of tears, clutching a bag with the fish Nana had packed. After ten minutes of running, he was worn out and came to a place he didn't know—but it felt oddly familiar.
After walking another ten minutes, he saw an old house. An elderly woman was clearing weeds in front of it. As he reached the house, without even looking at him, the old woman said, "You're early today."
He replied, "Nana said hello to you. And she packed these fish for us."
Hearing this odd reply, the old woman turned around and looked at him. His body was covered in bruises. She asked, "You win?"
"No," he replied.
After that, an odd silence fell between them.
He went inside the house, put the bag on the table, and entered the room on the left, unknowingly.
Inside, there was only a small bed with a trunk beneath it and a small table and chair beside the window. He sat on the chair, staring outside.
After some time, the old lady called to him and said, "Dinner's ready. Go take a bath."
He didn't know why, but this house felt familiar—deeply familiar—even though it was his first time here.
After taking a bath and eating dinner, he went to his room. He didn't say a word to the old lady.
At night, while lying on his bed, he recalled what he had learned since coming into the world of One Piece.
The currency here was called berry.
Pirates were whispered about in fearful tones.
Devil Fruits were rare and dangerous.
The Grand Line and the Red Line were stories told by sailors—some true, some lies.
He had learned all of this from the old man at the market.
Where was he?
He was in a small village in the East Blue.
And who was he?
Just an orphan in East Blue. No Devil Fruit power. No noble blood. No long-lost lineage.
Just a kid—with no name, no past, and too much knowledge in his head.
He tried not to draw attention. He didn't want to break this world by saying too much.
But inside him, a storm was growing.
Was this a second chance?
Was he supposed to do something now?
He didn't want his life to be like his old one. But now...
Now, it could be real.
But he was scared.
He didn't feel like Luffy, or Zoro, or anyone brave.
He was still the same person inside—still hesitant.
Still doubting.
What if he tried—and failed again?