Morning on the Rust Fangs dawned with cannon smoke and shouting.
Kairos was yanked from his hammock by a boot to the ribs.
"Wake up, shrimp! Captain wants you on deck!"
He grunted and rolled over, rubbing his side. The older pirate—Breezer, he remembered—grinned through gold-capped teeth.
"Hope you're not scared of blood. We're hitting a merchant ship."
Kairos followed, half-stumbling, up the creaky steps onto the main deck. The salty wind slapped him in the face as the ship groaned forward at full speed. Ahead, he saw it: a small, well-built merchant vessel, flying the flag of the East Blue Trade Guild.
"What are you doing? You're pirates, but… robbery in broad daylight?"
Breezer gave him a sideways look.
"Welcome to the Grand Adventure, kid."
The captain—Briggs the Compass, as they called him—stood tall near the helm, coat fluttering, compass tattoo gleaming in the sun. He spotted Kairos.
"Boy! You said your name was Kairos, yeah?"
Kairos nodded.
Briggs pointed toward the merchant ship. "Time to prove your worth. You come with us on the raid. No freeloaders on my deck."
Kairos hesitated. "I don't even have a weapon."
Briggs tossed him a short cutlass with a rusty edge.
"Then borrow one. And if you live, I'll get you a real one."
---
As the ships drew close, grappling hooks were thrown. Pirates swarmed over the rails, laughing and shouting. Kairos followed, barely keeping his footing as he landed on the merchant deck.
The merchant sailors were already drawing weapons. One lunged at him—a young man, probably no older than Kairos himself, trembling as he swung a thick wooden staff.
Not a killer. Just scared.
Kairos sidestepped the strike and, without thinking, grabbed the boy's wrist.
That same strange pulse surged through him again.
The boy gasped, suddenly dropping the staff, clutching his side.
Kairos blinked.
The pain in his ribs—gone. Transferred.
The boy stumbled, crying out in confusion.
Kairos stared at his own hands.
"I didn't even mean to…" He looked down at the boy, now too weak to stand.
All around him, the pirates clashed with the merchant crew. Briggs fought like a beast—grappling one man with an arm and slamming him into another. Breezer was cackling wildly as he leapt from barrel to barrel.
Kairos backed away from the boy, heart pounding.
I can swap pain. Injuries. Strength.
He turned just as a hulking pirate from the opposing ship charged him. The man had clearly jumped sides—possibly a hired mercenary.
"Die, brat!"
Kairos raised his sword but knew he was too slow.
Then instinct kicked in.
He lunged forward instead of back, grabbing the pirate's chest.
A flash of power sparked between them—his vision blurred.
The man's movements slowed instantly, as if time itself resisted him.
Kairos felt his legs strengthen, his grip tighten.
With one movement, he twisted, threw his weight, and flipped the man overboard.
He landed hard, panting, the power draining out of him seconds later.
All around, pirates stopped and stared.
"Did that kid just toss Berg like a ragdoll?"
"What the hell was that?"
"Devil Fruit?"
The words stabbed through the noise like needles.
Kairos stood, trying not to wobble.
Briggs shoved through the crowd, sword bloody, brow furrowed.
"You didn't say you had powers, boy."
Kairos swallowed hard. "I didn't know what it was until now."
Briggs studied him a moment, then grinned.
"That changes things. The seas favor the clever and the cursed."
---
Later, after the loot was divided and the merchant ship set adrift, Kairos sat in the captain's quarters.
Briggs poured two cups of something sharp-smelling and handed one over.
"You've eaten a Devil Fruit. That means you'll never swim again."
Kairos nodded. "I know."
"Which one is it?"
Kairos hesitated. "It's called the… Kōtai Kōtai no Mi. The Swap-Swap Fruit."
Briggs raised an eyebrow.
Kairos explained everything he knew so far: that he could swap attributes—strength, wounds, speed—but only one at a time. And only for about 30 seconds. After that, there was a one-minute cooldown. Touch was required.
Briggs listened quietly.
"A tricky one." He leaned back. "Most Devil Fruits are blunt instruments. Yours is a scalpel. Dangerous in the right hands. Useless in the wrong ones."
Kairos looked at his palms. They felt… normal. But he knew something vast lived under the surface now.
"So what now?" he asked. "Do I stay with your crew?"
Briggs stood, walked to a drawer, and pulled out a rolled parchment.
He handed it to Kairos.
It was a map—of East Blue. But marked in red ink were rumors. Pirate sightings. Bounty changes. Government movements.
Briggs tapped a spot far east.
"You're not meant for small ships. This sea's too tiny for you. You've got a power that can flip a battlefield. You need your own crew. Your own name."
Kairos looked up.
"Why help me?"
Briggs grinned.
"Because when you're famous, I want to say I gave the future Pirate King his first sword."
He turned and walked off, coat swirling behind him.
Kairos sat there, stunned.
He'd only just been reborn—and already, the seas whispered his name.
Not just a boy anymore.
Not just a castaway.
A Devil Fruit user. A pirate in the making.
The fruit had begun to change everything.
Not just his body… but the world around him.