I've always wanted to do a One Piece fic, especially considering my profile pic is Katakuri on lol.
One of the plans for this story will be to make the MC as a character feel human. As such, like all humans, he will be flawed. Emotions will color his decisions and he will not always choose the wisest path. He may do things that many will consider 'stupid' or 'dumb', but that's how life is, nobody's going to think rationally all the time.
As stated in the summary, this is a SLOW-BOIL JOURNEY, meaning it'll take time for things to roll as I focus on character development. Don't expect me to speedrun character interaction.
If you can't handle that, please step away from this story, much appreciated.
This fanfic is heavily inspired by [Game Of Shadows By Adrian King] and [A Gamer In The South Blue By LordVishnu]. I highly recommend you go check them out if you haven't!
Summary: The place of fantasies and never-ending adventures is enveloped with death, misery, and catastrophes. I'm not waiting for the Straw Hats to save the world. I'll eradicate all my adversaries that dare get in the way...for retribution empowers me. Canon can go straight to hell. Semi-SI, Slow-Boil Journey, Nerfed Gamer.
I do not own 'One Piece' or 'The Gamer'
Some months ago, an incident on a particular island left five hundred soldiers being held captive. A thirteen-year-old boy ends the hostage situation by killing everyone.
Mariejois, Red Line
The first thing everybody understood when the doors were opened — talking must immediately be quelled.
There was some negligible shuffling of chains as people nervously watched several armored men enter the chamber. The one leading the group had their eyes darting around, monitoring everyone as if they were beasts in a cage.
"You, they want you up there," He pointed to the left, giving the signal for his associates to escort the individual.
The person in question began writhing in place, ostensibly horrified at what was transpiring.
"Please…please, I can't go…I don't know how to fight!" They begged their case, dropping to the filthy cement floor.
Unfortunately, it was to no avail.
The guards seized the man and began hauling him out, unsympathetic to the screams coming from them. It was only after they completely vacated did someone finally speak.
"And so…another one bites the dust,'' A man approximately in his early forties remarked, sighing as he did so. "It's always the greenies that scream like a baby and then die out there. Dont'cha think so, brat?"
He turned with a small grin and gently elbowed the person to his right.
It was a fourteen-year-old teenager with dark skin and curly black hair. The boy was presently undergoing a basic workout routine.
"First of all, I'm not a brat," I said, frowning at the man as I resumed my exercise. "Secondly, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself, Regi?"
"I'm strong enough to handle myself, brat." He scoffed. "You, on the other hand, need to get in shape."
"And what exactly do you think I'm doing?"
"Dancing with extra steps, gihihihihi!" The old man reared his head back as he guffawed.
I ignored him, opting to look at the new notification screens.
Skill Level Up!
Physical Conditioning Lv. (3/10) → (4/10)
For strengthening your body, +1 STR! +1 VIT!
'It's a slightly smaller gain than a month ago,' I mentally noted, repositioning myself to sit upright. 'Strength used to give me 2 and there's no dexterity this time.'
I think it's time to call upon my stats, skills, and perks for a quick review.
Decreases STR, VIT, DEX, and skill gain by 75%
A permanent slave brand imprint of the World Nobles
[Observe - Lv. MAX]
[Running - Lv. (2/10)]
[Sneak - Lv. (1/50)]
[Resistance: Physical - Lv. (3/90)]
[Physical Conditioning - Lv. (4/10)]
It took me nearly 8 months to reach just the average person's capability. The [Malnourished] effect was really baring its fangs.
Before, I was so damned weak that lifting a chair was an issue. Now, I'm about average as they seemed to be approximately 5 when concerning the 3 physical stats. And this isn't regarding the final stat. WIL or 'Willpower'.
Most people around me are scrawny, so it's difficult to gauge myself with the ordinary person. Save for one individual who's built like Douglas Bullet if he was on the leaner side.
"What'cha eyeing me for?" Regi spoke in a gruff, toned voice.
"I'm just wondering why you're so dumb, old man." That seemed to get on his nerves, if his fidgeting were anything to go by.
"Listen here brat, if I weren't such a great person you'd get smacked around." He contently replied, lifting a chin as if that meant something.
I rolled my eyes at his punitive attempt of intimidation.
In reality, Reginald was a kind man who didn't seem to mind me asking him things. Apparently, he was a native of the New World, and was freed from a tyrannical king by an 'outside force'.
Yeah...that sounds like the Revolutionary Army, which narrows down the timeline a bit. I could only assume he got caught by the marines and became a slave for life. It was a shame, really. I'd shit myself if I were born centuries before any of the real events occurred.
This guy seemingly has basic [Observation Haki] — my working theory — and that caused me to be excited. Yet, with a few offhanded queries for him, he didn't seem to know about its existence. At first, the man assumed he'd eaten a Devil Fruit, but shook that off after going swimming…the crazy bastard.
'Who am I kidding, Regi is definitely like Usopp. He can't control it.' A sad reality I had to accept.
Nonetheless, mulling about that man who was dragged out earlier had me wondering.
"Do you think they'll send me to the arena?"
"Probably," He said indecisively, "You're getting older, which means they'll want you out there sooner or later."
The arena or 'death trap', as many slaves liked to call it, is where many Celestial Dragons enjoyed watching us kill each other. It's essentially gladiator fighting, but with starving people, and they gamble on who'll win.
"If you want, we can train," Regi suggested as I perked up. "They'll let us do that to make their 'show' all the more exciting."
Oh, now that's intriguing.
Having some combat experience than just running around and training is something I'm not going to refute. At least I wasn't pushing the moving escalator.
"You got yourself a deal, old man." I gave him a wide smile.
"Cheeky brat," He snickered and laid on his back, "We can start first thing in the morning if you're that eager."
The only response was a nod, as there isn't a reason not to agree.
"Get some shut-eye, we'll be getting up earlier than usual from now on," The man rustled in his makeshift bed.
I shifted into my own and called it a night.
Tomorrow could wait.
The Enclosure's Second Room, Mariejois
A clash reverberated throughout the open area of the underground.
My exhausted body narrowly dodged the side of the shinai, twirling around to meet him. Then I intercepted his following attack, but quickly learned how much strength he was holding, and hopped backward to gain some distance.
Skill Level Up!
Sword Mastery Lv. (1/200) → (2/200)
"You've been dancing around like a ballerina the whole time, brat," Regi snorted whilst shaking his head. "Can you even fight for real?"
The bastard isn't even trying.
I snarled whilst going for a jab which he immediately countered by sidestepping, bonking on the back of my head, and causing me to fall over.
-1 HP (47/50)
"Fucking hell," I mumbled, sitting upright and catching my breath.
"Watch that mouth of yours. But honestly, we're basically done for the day," The old man lowered his bamboo sword. "Considering how tired and frail you are, yeah...I think that's enough."
'Cocky old fart.' I groaned, trying to catch my breath.
The fact that he effortlessly pummeled me suggests he's well beyond the typical person. I imagine his budding [Observation Haki] aided him without knowing.
Still, this guy is a beast.
"Here," Regi tossed over a bottle of water which I stumbled to catch, "Drink up."
"Where the hell did you get this from?"
Hiding water around the other slaves when everyone's watching is impressive, knowing how unmistakably frantic we were. It had become so problematic that fighting amongst one another was second nature in the underground to ensure one's survival. The guards never cared, observing us squabble like rats had been to their amusement.
"Let's just say my profession forced me to be discreet," He answered, appearing a bit somber. "It didn't work out in the end...sadly."
My lips curled downwards somewhat.
While interested in what he meant, I didn't want to bring up any landmines. The old man has already been through enough as it is.
"Any reason why you accepted the training?" He watched me carefully. "The others don't seem to like the idea, even if it might save them down the line."
I looked at him, seeing his genuine curiosity. He was honestly waiting for a response, whereas I felt it's been made clear.
Wasn't it obvious?
"I don't want to die, old man," I answered, setting the weapon I held back onto its frame. "If those dimwits can't see the meaning of living, then they're just taking the stupid way out."
It might be my ignorance or the knowledge of understanding what everything is truly like out there, but I refuse to die like a coward.
I'm not giving my life to the Celestial Dragons.
"You do understand that we have explosive collars on, right?" Reginald lifted an eyebrow at the explanation, "You're acting as if there's a chance at escaping"
"There is...if you're strong enough." I retorted, looking at both of my hands, and curling them into a ball. "With strength, you can do anything."
The Pirate King conquered the seas without a Devil Fruit.
You don't need to eat a fancy fruit to become among the top tiers. Sure, it'll help in reaching your goals, but in the end, it's Haki that determines how far you'll go.
Kaido said it himself after all.
"It doesn't matter if you're a Fishman, Mink, Human, or whatever. With strength...the world will be forced to listen." The emperors are a single instance of the World Government attempting to keep 'balance', uncaring of how feeble it might be.
There's a juncture of indecision on his part as I await his response.
"Well I'll be damned, I thought you only were around me for protection," He remarked, surprised at my rambling. "You didn't seem like the type."
"I'm lots of things, old man. But I'll admit that being around you has been a good benefit." Anyone in their right mind would if they knew how good he was.
"One of those 'lots of things' must have been growing a pair of balls, gihihihihi!" And that's when he let out a hearty laugh.
I scoffed at his demeaning laughter, but I understood what he meant.
A few months ago was when I unceremoniously fused with this body and gained something I'd heard of in a South Korean webtoon.
Unfortunately, several key features that Han Jee-Han held at his disposal were missing things. [Gamer's Mind], and [Gamer's Body] are nonexistent just to name a few. Hell, it doesn't even possess a level system. The thing merely shows my stats, skills, perks, and Title. Even [Observe]'s basically out of the picture, all it shows is a name, label, and someone's health. For items, only the former two are displayed.
Somewhat useful, though far away from the original's helpfulness.
But alas, the past has already been determined, and I now must work with what I got.
With this power and my own perseverance, I've already elevated myself to the ridiculous baseline known as the One Piece standard.
"You should drink up quickly, brat," Regi suggested, crossing his arms together. "Savoring it won't do ya any good."
"Yeah, yeah," And I did exactly that, not allowing a drop of water to escape my sight.
Afterward, the old man ushered me away from the empty room as we headed back toward our so-called 'living space'.
So now that's out of the way, I glimpsed the newest skills.
Sword Mastery Lv. (2/200)
The proficiency and understanding of swordsmanship.
Increases the user's physical stats by 2% when fighting with a sword.
Sword Mastery: One Sword Style Lv. (1/50)
The user's aptitude in wielding a singular blade.
I feel like I'm never going to max the former out. It's either that or I'll be near the end of my life when it happens.
Where the hell would Mihawk or Ryuma be?
They'd probably lie almost at 200 if I were a betting man. Only someone with complete dedication to the blade could have a chance, even on their deathbed.
That definitely sounds like something Zoro would do.
Following me contemplating for some time as we walked towards the den, I found myself intrigued about discovering Regi's aforementioned occupation — suspicions aside.
"Say...old man, how did you get so strong?" my eyes gleamed over him, uncertain of what his response could be.
He just glances over as if that's the most idiotic thing ever said. Although, he's courteous enough to at least acknowledge the inquiry with a one-word retort.
At this point, calling him a sarcastic asshole would've been my standard reaction — I'll conserve that right for now though.
"Duh, but did you have people helping like you're doing with me?"
Regi's eyebrows creased, carrying an uncharacteristically solemn expression. I was genuinely curious, considering how I'd imagined him to be a Revolutionary.
"It wasn't exactly training...it's more like survival sessions."
Before I could question any further, he continued.
"They killed each other on their own ship as if it's a competition. It got so bad that even the littlest things had everyone itching to slit someone's throat."
So he hadn't been a Revolutionary because there's no way in hell Dragon would allow something like that to happen. Instead, Regi presumably belonged to some radical pirate or bandit crew.
It's the most reasonable explanation, but without understanding where I am involving the timeline, everything gets a bit more problematic. For all I know it's some no-name trash group that he got tossed into, though it doesn't explain how his homeland was 'freed'.
"You were on a pirate ship?" I suspected, which he confirmed with a nod.
"The captain doesn't care who's on the crew, there's only one rule we're meant to obey." Regi lifted one finger to expedite his rationale. "Survival of the fittest. Everybody knew it."
So it's a pirate crew and a barbaric one.
"What happened to those people?"
Exceptionally notable pirates before and after Roger's era were rare. The man who hoisted the Golden Age of Piracy with his final words only left a handful of particularly influential people behind.
"They were wiped some time ago, outside of a very special few." He stated, though there was some alleviation in his posture. "That's all I'll say about it. Just drop the subject, will ya?"
I sighed, but conceded to his plea, not wishing to aggravate him. Regi had candidly noticed my need for a resolution and expressed something different.
"Listen here, brat. I know you want to be strong..." He said, frowning through the process. "But there are people on this planet who are so far beyond you, that it's impossible to comprehend."
His face twisted scornfully.
"You don't get how much of an ant you are until it's in front of your face." The old man's expression drooped. It's as if he's experiencing a painful memory.
The world of One Piece is dangerous, regardless of the era I currently reside in. From Sea Kings that scrutinize us like we're complimentary appetizers to individuals powerful enough to split the sky.
I know, old man. I understand exactly what you're talking about.
Even with those imparting words warning me of the dangers I'm very much acquainted with, there's a peculiar inner belief of simply hurling it aside.
My goal wasn't solely to remain quiet and tell the tale later on — something within me desired to go beyond his expectations and tear them asunder, but I didn't understand precisely what. It's a primal instinct yearning for an opportunity at liberation, more so than my fellow slaves.
I didn't enjoy living like this.
I refused it.
The scowl on my face grew more explicit, manifesting into a snarl. Each finger on both hands curled inwards, shuddering sporadically.
Only a coward will beg on their knees. So it's simple; there are two options.
Either I'm dying or escaping, the middle ground is not an alternative. I'm not going to concede otherwise.
"At least an ant...can see the sun."
And with that, I departed in the direction of the den, leaving him rather dumbfounded.
The Enclosure, Mariejois
It's been cold for some while, as was every other day. The shift in temperature is the method we use to track the seasons, overlooking the explicit flaws.
For warmth, many of us resorted to huddling against the mildewed walls or if we'd been fortunate enough, owned extra clothes to clad ourselves with. As are most days, there wasn't much I could do other than rudimentary conditioning and getting some rest when doable.
Nevertheless, everything changed when numerous people could be discerned at the other side of the singular entryway to the chamber.
The twin doors' handles twisted and pivoted as it's managed so many instances before. They slowly opened, creaking loudly enough for everyone to be attentive.
Setting foot within the enclosure stood an array of guards in a defensive formation. Their movements were closed and proper, unwavering beneath our vigilant eyes. It was the sound of moving carts informing us of what is transpiring. The aroma exuding from just beyond the doors simply hastened the truth.
Behind the armored men were entries of wrapped-up meals sitting atop age-old handcarts. Each of them had an assortment that was unquestionably Celestial Dragons' leftovers and other items they seemingly gained a hold of.
Still, we watched as a few containers of rations were thrown into the epicenter of the large chamber rendering an almost unadulterated silence. The moment of stillness lingered for some seconds before the long-awaited oncoming storm.
Starving as we are, they at least didn't let us die specifically for the lack of nourishment. However, the process of distributing the said food was far from ideal.
The guards with this burden merely tossed the encased meals aimlessly. Oftentimes, they're throwing them in random directions, relishing in seeing the mass scramble. Seeing us fighting is a way for some sort of reprieve for them.
Many people were being trampled and bullied into giving away their advantageous position.
-1 HP (49/50)
It's then I was shoved hard, but not before dealing some retribution by doing the same. The blatant attacks and skirmishes were growing more unruly as the food stockpile slowly dwindled.
I dived, latching onto one of the few 'well-made' sandwiches with bottled water, and quickly balanced myself by skidding across the ground with my feet.
A person that I didn't recognize threw a punch at me, but I weaved around it and reacted with a kidney shot. No fucking mercy. Then, I made my way toward where Regi resided — strength in numbers, as the saying goes.
"Old man." I sat down next to him, slumping against the wall.
"Brat," He looked sideways from his slouched position, "You seem upset."
I glanced back towards the pandemonium and then at Regi.
"It's a hell zone," There wasn't any other way to describe it.
"Oh, really?" The old man just rolled his eyes and sported a broad smirk. He then stealthily revealed multiple concealed water bottles within his torn-up jacket. "If you weren't so weak maybe you'd have a much easier time navigating through all that, gihihihihi!"
"Real fucking funny," I sneered, getting a light chuckle from him.
While I'm thankful for Regi on some things, the guy can get frustrating at times.
"Honestly, I don't get how they make us fight for our lives like this." I did through the manga and anime, but confronting it firsthand was a different scenario.
"We're not even a person to them, brat. We have more in common with animals truthfully." He opened his meal and began eating. "As long as the mark is on our backs, it'll always be that way."
He's right...well...sort of.
The Fishman Pirates circumvented this issue by altering it into the sun — Jinbe proudly displaying the insignia on his chest. I'm certain many other people used a similar method against the mark.
Despite that, as of right now, Regi's point is valid.
Doesn't mean I'll accept it as fact though.
"Eh, I guess I'm optimistic in that way."
"We're slaves." He retorted.
"Like I said, optimistic!" I smiled cheekily, observing his face morph into an indescribable expression.
Frankly, I'm simply trying to lighten the mood, however bleak the circumstances may be.
"Still on about that, huh?" The old man's gaze softened, "I thought it was you growing some hair down there."
Did he just assume what I think?
"This isn't puberty," I snarled, giving him a bit of a glare. "I just want to know what it's like out there."
The One Piece planet was enormous in size and I'd wished to see at least some of it. There's no way I'm living as a slave for the rest of my life — death would be the preferable option.
Regi stayed quiet for a few seconds, side-eying impassively.
"Do whatever you want, I guess." He turned back to his food and started eating.
I snorted and rolled my eyes.
'Damn old fart...can't admit anything.'
Well, that's fine.
I'll find a way out of this place at some point and drag him with me.
Though as of currently, the sole thing that's on my mind is finishing this sandwich, because I'm beyond starving.
Time goes by quickly when you're repeating the same things over again. When everything seems to go through a distinctive cycle, there's a sense of hoping for something more.
Periodically there's a slight deviation, but those four core aspects are generally in that order.
There wasn't much else to do. Regardless of how I felt about the situation, a slave's fate rests solely on their owners.
It was then that the primary entryway was unlocked and the room became deathly quiet.
Instead of them typically creaking open, they're flung wide open, unsympathetic to the rackety clangor the action generated.
This time, only five guards entered the enclosure, which I and everyone else immediately understood the meaning of. Their eyes wandered about like the peering of a famished predator.
"You," One of them pointed, prompting people to redirect their sights in that direction.
There were a few seconds of uncertainty as the staredowns persisted from every corner.
"Me?" I asked as one of them started to trek toward my area.
"Yes, you. Now get up." He said, unlocking the cage.
Well...it seems my luck has finally run out. Not even a year into fusing with this body and I'm essentially tossed into the supposed hell itself.
They must've known that I've been training intensely for a while...shit.
The original Henry purposely maintained a low-profile, which kept himself alive and away from the spotlight. This is what guided him to meet Regi a few years back and that's how their pseudo-friendship originated.
And now there's a reasonably good chance all of that will go down the gutter because I worked out a bit.
I glanced around, noticing the reactions of the others as the guards began taking me away, their whisperings were somewhat more evident this time.
A few slaves carried sympathetic gazes — I'm extremely young, which makes sense. Some didn't seem to react whatsoever. Whilst several had just begun praying to the Sun God for protecting them.
Well, at least Who's-Who was right in a way.
If I'm remembering correctly, the man had sai–
I immediately halted those trains of thought, glimpsing back towards the place I left, and noticed Regi's stern watch. I've never seen him have that kind of look.
His face was unmoving as did the rest of the body, still sitting in the same position he normally is. However, there's a silent message he's expressing, something that's beyond words alone. It wasn't until the second he talked that I understood.
I smiled wearily.
"I'll try not to."
That's the only thing I could say when I'm shoved through the doors and it's unceremoniously shut.
Nonetheless, while I was essentially dragged towards the colosseum, I thought it bizarre how for the very first time since encountering Reginald there's one thing he hadn't ever done. Even prior to merging with this body, the man still didn't speak it.
He called me...by my name.
Near The Colosseum, Mariejois
I paced around the room, glossing over a variety of different weapons.
Maces, spears, and other blunt or sharp weapons are neatly categorized on an extended table. There were a lot of options, but the obvious choice is the sword because [Sword Mastery] was all I had combat regarding skills.
"Choose a weapon already," One of the guards sneered, idly waiting at the entryway to the Colosseum.
And so I did, grabbing onto a basic shortsword.
I handled the blade and took a few swings, getting accustomed to the weight. It's adequate enough that I'll at least fight with this.
They didn't exactly let me do much else as I'm forced past the gates and it's quickly shut tight — no turning back.
And so I walked down the narrow pathway, noting that the noises of many people were growing louder. Then, the corridor slowly began widening, giving way to the rest of the building.
I'd heard the stadium was ginormous, but it's another thing seeing it.
The amphitheater was circular, with a central arena surrounded by perimeter seating tiers. The seating tiers were pierced by entranceways controlling access to the arena floor, and isolating it from the audience. An enormous, stretched-out, translucent tinted window glass separated the audience from the contestants. Above everything else was the steel-plated dome, not allowing the sunlight to pierce through.
As I compelled myself towards the outer edges of the said colosseum, I could hear the murmuring of people in the stands bouncing around like a match of ping-pong.
Then, the gates on the opposite end retracted and I visibly tensed up.
I could see them in the distance, my competitor.
With each step taken, their visage slowly grew more perceptible. However, the confusion on my face became significantly apparent once they completely revealed themselves.
I was expecting to clash against a fearsome adversary, something that'd be akin to a David and Goliath-style contest. Perhaps a monstrous Fishman or hyperactive Mink was waiting for me, keen on tasting blood. Hell, it could've been one of the other many terrifying races for all I know.
Be that as it may, it's almost as if fate seemed to have different plans.
Standing on the opposing side of the arena is a human woman who appears to be in her mid-thirties. She had shabby clothes that were clearly uncomfortable to wear and in her hands tightly clutched an iron-tipped spear.
Zoruna Izumi, [Slave]
This isn't a scary person.
Maybe she's like those people who look weak and are very strong?
Yeah, that must be it.
Although her health indicated otherwise, I still kept my guard up.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls of all ages!" The announcement trumpeted from the speakers stationed practically everywhere. "As I said earlier, we've still got ourselves a few more appetizing fights before the main show!"
The masses repressed their anticipation moderately. I could see eyes glued onto the both of us, some of them looking downwards in delight.
"So grab some snacks while we watch Saint Noiben and Saint Rosward's belongings battle it out!" The broadcaster shouted at the top of their lungs. "Are you ready?!"
Their excitement grew exponentially until the announcer spoke once more.
"Then let the fight begin!" The echo of a gong resonated everywhere and it was on.
Without squandering any time, I moved without hesitation, thrusting the blade forward. She stumbled back, swinging her spear wildly in an attempt to intercept the advance.
I swatted one of the swings with the flattened portion of the sword, though I instantly felt pain in my right shoulder as it was struck.
-8 HP (42/50)
Gritting my teeth, I redirected myself to be within her meager guard, and plunged the shortsword ahead once more. This time, however, the attack landed true.
It went straight into the woman's stomach as her eyes merely looked downwards, unable to speak.
-25 HP (5/30) [Bleeding Effect Inflicted!]
-1 HP (4/30)
She screamed, the pain ultimately catching up to the rest of her body. That's when the sword was withdrawn and I took several steps back.
-1 HP (3/30)
-1 HP (2/30)
-1 HP (1/30)
The woman stumbled for a few seconds before sprawling over, her bloodied fingers brushing against my grungy face. Then with a thud, she dropped to the ground motionless.
-1 HP (0/30)
Win Your Match
+2 to all stats
+1 to [Sword Mastery]
+1 to [Resistance: Physical]
"The winner is Saint Rosward!"
The notification arrived as the crowd clapped and was enraptured by an exceptionally sonorous outcry. Despite the blaring noise, I continued to scan the now-deceased body.
The middle-aged woman's mouth is slumped loose whilst her eyes fixed their attention on the deep blue sky. Her blood had long since etched itself onto the clothes she was wearing, gradually working its way to dampen the entire shirt.
Whoever this individual was, they weren't strong at all.
A small part of me hoped for the battle to be prolonged and arduous, something that's genuinely warranted.
I looked at the people, their shouts continuing to bewilder me.
Why are they cheering? Wasn't this anticlimactic for them?
Screams and yells reflected from the Colosseum, with people's eyes locked on the dead woman's body. Curiously, I caught some of their gazes on me, grinning as their sights latched onto my somewhat drenched garments.
Ah, I understand now.
They were exhilarated not because of the brawl — which was quite bland, to be frank — it's their amusement in witnessing someone else's demise. The intense pleasure they were feeling is from seeing people's organs being ripped out from one's bodies and blood spewing everywhere.
It's essentially cockfighting rings for literal people.
"Animals...they think we're animals," I muttered, unwinding my shoulders somewhat.
I glanced at the blade in my hand, watching the blood dribble onto the floor, and then around a small puddle underneath the woman. Even after completing a quest that I didn't know existed, it truthfully felt unearned and disappointing.
But in the end, I won.
That's all that mattered, right? Who cares what they think?
Breathing, eating, and waking up the next day are what everything's for.
And yet, the desire to do something swelled within, regardless of how diminutive it could potentially be. My resolve insisted that they should be crushed and annihilated.
'It's what they want, don't give them the satisfaction.' I considered those thoughts, even as a few guards proceeded to escort me away from the scene. 'You'll die before anything actually happens.'
I'm too weak right now. Gamer powers or not.
I would become nothing more than an afterthought by even some random marine footsoldier. That's not even accounting for the myriad of Cipher Pol agents which I can presume are lingering about.
The risks are too high.
For now, I'll bide my time and wait for an opportunity to emerge.
So as the doorways into the enclosure are unlocked and I'm abruptly pushed in, there's simply one thing running through this head of mine above all else.
Sleeping like a baby.
My Server: QG8WraudFB
Shiro's Discord Code: wd3tUYWVCd
It's crazy how there's an extreme lack of GOOD One Piece gamer fics around, it's like searching for water in a desert. So, just like my motivation for starting Earthland's Gamer, it's about time there's some more outside of the amazing South Blue Gamer.
I'm going to steal a page out of Adrian's book and start doing random questions every chapter since I think that's a good idea.
Random Question: How are you liking the One Piece anime/manga so far?
I'm really enjoying Wano's animation like GOD DAMNNN.
Egghead is fantastic too. Someone told me it feels like Among Us with the latest chapter and I couldn't agree more.