The sea was calm, deceptively so.
Waves lapped gently against the twin-mast merchant ship, and seagulls circled above, shrieking into the wind. Jin lay sprawled in a reclining chair on the upper deck, hands behind his head, eyes closed. The salty breeze tousled his black hair.
He wasn't sleeping. Just thinking. Always thinking.
"I've wiped out every bandit crew on the last few islands," he murmured. "Pulled in about thirty million Berries this past week."
He smirked without opening his eyes.
"That puts me at one-fifty total. Not bad for side quests."
It had been about half a month since he left Windmill Village. In that time, Jin had made his name quietly — no headlines, no grand bounties. Just a trail of corpses with wanted posters on their faces.
People always talked about pirates. But in reality, bandits were easier targets — they didn't move around as much, didn't have ships, didn't expect someone like him.
"And now that I've got the money…" Jin stretched with a yawn. "Time to build a real ship."
He opened his eyes, stared at the wide blue sky above.
"A world in flux. A sea that swallows all. And people… just as unpredictable."
He stood and walked toward the ship's bow.
"Something mid-sized will do. Twin-mast, moderate hull. I'll go big when I hit the Grand Line."
In the distance, the rugged outline of Shipwright Island rose into view — a place famed for its coastal docks and aging shipyards.
By afternoon, Jin was walking the island's central dock road. Sweat clung to his back. The streets were lined with boatyards, each boasting their finest ships on display. Shiny hulls, freshly painted sails, all lined up like whores in makeup.
He stopped at the third yard and studied the frame of a "war-class" brig. His nose twitched.
Weak joints. Hollow rudder shaft. Flimsy keel.
"Garbage," he muttered, moving on.
The fourth yard was worse. The fifth had something promising — until he saw the material list and realized they were using compressed plywood.
He almost laughed.
"This is East Blue's best? In the anime they made this place look decent."
Jin shook his head, gaze sharp, tone sarcastic.
"If this is what I have to choose from, I might as well hijack a Marine ship."
"You've been wandering for a while, young man."
The voice was gravelly but calm — an old man's rasp that didn't waver. Jin turned.
A short, white-bearded elder stood behind him, kind eyes wrinkled with age.
"You looking to buy a ship?" the old man asked.
"I'm looking to build one," Jin replied bluntly. "These yards are disappointing."
The old man chuckled. "Picky, are you?"
"No. Just not an idiot." Jin paused. "I need a ship that can survive the Grand Line. Maybe even the New World. Not some coastal fishing tub with sails."
That drew a flicker of interest from the elder's eyes.
"You dream big, boy." He pointed down the road. "Keep walking to the end of this street. You'll find a yard. Not flashy. Might even look broken down. But there… ask for a man named Langatt."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving Jin in the dusty sunlight.
The place was exactly as described.
Cracked stone slabs marked the yard's entrance. Weeds grew from rusted ship frames. Discarded planks littered the path. The shipyard itself was eerily quiet, almost abandoned.
Jin frowned.
"This better not be a waste of time."
He stepped inside and called out, "Anyone breathing in here? I'm looking for Langatt."
A violent cough answered him from around the corner. Jin followed the sound.
Near the drydock, a massive figure sat hunched over a crate of tools, sipping from a dented sake bottle. The man had to be over three meters tall, dressed in a blue cap, loose overalls, and wore a thick, worn-out beard. His cheeks were wide, his mustache drooped like a tired walrus.
"Are you Langatt?" Jin asked.
The man didn't look up. "Why're you here?" he asked, voice like gravel.
"To commission a ship," Jin replied. "A real one. Not the toy boats I've seen so far."
That got Langatt's attention. He looked up, studied Jin for a long second.
"So you found this place. That means you've heard the rumors."
"I've heard you're the best — if you still work," Jin said. "That true?"
Langatt barked a short laugh. "I only build one more. That's it. My final job. After that, I retire. Sail off, drink, maybe die. Who knows."
He stood, brushing sawdust from his shirt.
"My price. My timeline. You agree, or you leave."
Jin tilted his head. "You really expect me to take that deal without even seeing the product?"
Langatt grinned. "You came this far. So you're already curious."
He walked over to a side shed and disappeared inside.
Jin waited on a high plank beam, crouched like a predator on a tree limb. Inside the shed, the sound of tools clattered.
If this guy's legit, I won't need another ship in my lifetime.
If he's a fraud, I'll take my deposit back — in flesh if needed.
Langatt returned carrying a thick leather roll, stuffed with blueprints and material invoices. He laid them on the worktable.
Jin hopped down and unrolled the papers.
He studied the frame, mast layout, deck reinforcements. None of it used standard templates. The materials list alone looked exotic — iron-ash ribs, obsidian-keel supports… and something called Bluesilk Wood.
Jin tapped that name. "What the hell is this?"
Langatt smirked.
"Bluesilk is stronger than Adam Wood. Me and my brother found it years ago on a no-name island during a storm. It's rare. Regenerative. Feed it seawater, it heals itself."
Jin narrowed his eyes. "You're telling me you can build a ship… that can heal?"
"Not all of it," Langatt corrected. "Only the main body and masts. That's all the Bluesilk I've got. It's enough for a ship that won't go down easy."
"And your price?"
Langatt raised five fingers.
"Five hundred million Berries. Two years. You pay one hundred mil now. Rest when you collect."
Jin whistled. "That's steep."
Langatt shrugged. "That's because it's worth it. No one else has Bluesilk. No one else can have it. When I go, it goes."
Jin stepped forward, slowly, and pulled out a black steel credit card. He flicked it onto the table.
"Here's your hundred mil. The rest you'll get when I return — with a war to fight, probably."
Langatt blinked. "You're not even going to—?"
"Verify the price? Haggle?" Jin smiled. "I've paid more for less. And if the ship lives up to your mouth, it's cheap."
Langatt nodded and handed over a sealed envelope. "My life card. Come find me with the rest of the payment in two years. The ship will be waiting."
Jin pocketed the card. "Don't disappoint me."
And like smoke, he was gone.
Langatt stared at the spot where he'd stood.
"…If that kid's the future," he muttered, "then the sea better start praying."
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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