[Mad Hat Island, 1507]
I just wanted to read a little before bed. That One Piece fanfiction was captivating—about a main character who lived freely, became a pirate, and sailed the seas. An adventurous world seemed possible, where life wasn't about numbers, bosses, and work reports.
My head felt heavy. I hadn't turned off the room light. The last thing I remembered was closing my eyes, imagining... "What if I lived in the One Piece world?"
Then, when I opened my eyes, everything changed.
I lay on damp ground, smelling of urine and blood. Moss-covered brick walls surrounded me. The sky above—if it was even a sky—was obscured by a rusted tin roof and laundry lines strung from window to window. The stench of stale alcohol and human waste pierced my nose.
"What is this?" I asked, but the voice that came out wasn't mine. It wasn't my language. Yet, strangely, I understood what I was saying. I didn't know how. But I knew its meaning.
My hands were small. My body light. The world around me felt... vast. Three-story buildings loomed like towers. My steps wobbled, like a child learning to walk again. I touched my face. Young skin. Chubby cheeks. I glanced at a puddle near a drain and saw a child's reflection staring back at me: short red hair, sharp emerald-green eyes.
I wasn't myself anymore.
I know this sounds crazy. But my brain, too accustomed to reading fanfics, conspiracy theories, and strange forums, immediately concluded one thing: I had transmigrated. And this place—the salty sea air, distant explosions, and a skull flag atop a building—was...
The world of One Piece.
I should have been thrilled. A world of adventure, haki, Devil Fruits, and ultimate freedom. But the reality was far from what I imagined.
The first few days were spent wandering, sneaking into markets, listening to people's conversations. Gold Roger, the Pirate King, and a name I heard from every direction: One Piece.
My head spun.
I thought I could survive. I had knowledge of this world. I could live.
Then came that day.
The day that shattered all romantic notions about this world.
I was hungry. Two days without food. I stole bread from a distracted vendor. Ran. My breath was heavy. This small body was agile, but not fast enough. I hid in a narrow alley, wedging myself behind a pile of trash.
He found me. A big man. His body reeked of alcohol and sweat, his face scarred with a smile I'd never encountered in my old world—a smile that froze my blood.
"Come on, kid. All alone, huh?" he asked, his voice hoarse and lecherous.
I didn't have time to answer. He yanked me out of the pile. I kicked, bit, screamed—no one cared. This was Mad Hat. This world was rotting. A world that knew no mercy.
His body pressed me to the ground. His knee in my groin. His foul breath in my ear. His hand groping where it shouldn't.
I didn't know where the strength came from. Near my hand, a brick lay half-buried in the ground. I grabbed it, not thinking, just surviving.
And when that brick struck his head... I heard a sickening sound.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
Blood sprayed across my face. My breath came in ragged gasps. My hands trembled, his body motionless.
I shoved him off and vomited.
That was the first time I truly understood.
This wasn't an anime world. This wasn't an adventure. This was a world where children were killed in the streets, and no one cared.
I wasn't a pirate protagonist. I wasn't a hero.
I was just... another street kid in a chaotic world.