__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dan : Perfect Time to Grind Some Quests!
Everyone on Onigashima was completely stumped.
Dan could fly without eating a Devil Fruit.
Fly.
And nobody had the faintest clue how the hell that worked.
The wild theories just wouldn't stop.
Some said Young Master Dan must belong to some rare race with invisible wings.
Others swore it had to be some kind of innate talent, the kind you're just born with, like Conqueror's Haki—no explanation needed, just pure nonsense magic.
Quinn, that fat bastard, even got it into his head to secretly swipe some of Dan's hair or blood for "research."
Unfortunately for him, Kaido caught him red-handed.
Quinn almost left that day with a broken leg.
After that, even he behaved.
In the end, Kaido shut everyone up with one loud declaration:
"My son is just that badass! Don't like it? Too bad!"
With an attitude like that, curiosity died right there on the spot.
Everyone had the same conclusion now:
From hair to toenails, this Young Master Dan was a full-blown freak of nature.
Time flew by—literally.
A year later.
Onigashima's massive open-air training grounds.
Hovering in midair, a tiny figure in a miniature Beast Pirates uniform was locked in perfect concentration.
His soft, round little face was tense, lips muttering under his breath.
"Ki… keep the energy sinking down… then… let's go!"
Whoosh!
The little figure turned into a blur, slicing through the air and leaving a long streak across the sky above the training grounds.
He was so fast it made people dizzy just watching.
That tiny blur?
None other than Dan—now one year and three months old.
After a year of growing and nonstop training, plus completing his system's first anniversary survival quest (reward: Massive Stamina Boost), he'd gotten really good at flying.
Stop, start, speed up—no problem.
His little body had grown sturdier too. Sure, he was still pint-sized compared to adults, but he ran, jumped, rolled, and flipped like a monkey on caffeine.
Only problem was his speech—still a little clumsy, like his tongue hadn't fully figured things out yet.
"D-Dan, sir! Could you—could you fly a little slower?!"
Down on the ground, several Beast Pirates grunts were nearly breaking their necks staring up at him, misery written all over their faces.
The little devil moved too fast—how the hell were a bunch of landlocked goons supposed to keep up with him?
Dan landed in style, flipping through the air and touching down lightly. A tiny, smug grin crept onto his face.
And then—
Step step step!
The sound of frantic, stumbling footsteps echoed closer and closer.
A Beast Pirates messenger came running like his life depended on it, tripping over himself until he finally skidded to a stop before "King the Wildfire," who'd been resting quietly nearby.
"K-King, sir! Big—big problem!"
King slowly opened his eyes, those crimson irises locking on the messenger. The weight of that silent stare was enough to make the poor guy's knees shake.
"What's got you panicking?" King's voice was low, metallic, and cold.
The messenger swallowed hard, then practically shouted:
"Our base on Island G-58—It's under attack by the Navy's main fleet!"
"Leading them are three—three Vice Admirals from Marine HQ!"
"Doberman, Onigumo, and Momonga!"
"Our guys can't hold out much longer—Sasaki-sama is still on the island, and things look really bad!"
Behind the mask, King's expression didn't change, but his pupils contracted sharply, and a wave of killing intent rolled off him like a blizzard.
"Three Vice Admirals, huh…"
"Must be payback for that weapons shipment we hijacked last time."
He didn't hesitate for a second.
"Sound the alarm. Gather everyone. Ready the biggest warship we have—we sail for G-58 immediately!"
"Yes, sir!"
The messenger bolted off to carry the order.
But King stayed where he was, watching the man disappear, his eyes grim.
G-58 wasn't exactly next door.
Even at top speed, a round trip would take a long time.
And Sasaki… sure, he was one of the tougher Flying Six, but taking on three Vice Admirals at once?
That was asking for a miracle.
King just hoped the man could last until reinforcements got there.
Not far away, Dan had heard every single word.
His big, dark eyes darted back and forth as the gears turned in his head.
Navy?
Three Vice Admirals?
And that poor bastard Sasaki was stuck there too?
Dan licked his lips unconsciously. His brain was already clattering away like an abacus on overdrive.
[System Quest #2: Make Your Name Known.Objective: Defeat 100 marines with your own hands (rank doesn't matter).]
Oh hell yes.
This was basically a quest served to him on a silver platter!
Three Vice Admirals meant tons of marines—perfect grinding material.
He had to go.
No, he was going.
No better time than now!
While King and the others were busy mobilizing the troops and all eyes were glued to the news of the attack, Dan quietly snuck toward the edge of the training field.
He glanced around.
Nobody watching.
Perfect.
One thought—
Whoosh!
He was airborne again, skimming just above the ground, silent as a shadow, darting toward the outer edges of Onigashima.
Meanwhile—
G-58 Island.
The air was on fire with the sound of war.
Cannons roared so loud they shook the sky.
Battle cries, screams, the clash of steel—it all blended together in a deafening symphony of chaos.
Dozens of huge marine warships circled the island like predators, sealing it completely off.
Black cannon muzzles spat flame nonstop, and shells rained down like hail, blasting the fortifications apart and throwing dirt and stone skyward.
White-uniformed marines poured off their landing craft like a swarm of ants, rifles and swords at the ready, charging the Beast Pirates' stronghold.
The beaches were already stained dark red. Broken weapons and mangled limbs littered the sand. The stench of smoke and blood filled the air.
At the island's center, right in front of a half-demolished fortress—
"Damn it! What the hell's with these marines today?! They're like rabid dogs!"
Sasaki swung his bizarre spiral blade, Helix Sabre, the rotating blade screaming as it cleaved a marine officer clean in half.
His kimono was soaked red, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe.
And standing around him, cutting off every escape route, were three figures.
Each wore the white "Justice" cloak of a Marine Vice Admiral.
Their faces were cold, their teamwork seamless, and every strike was meant to kill.
Vice Admiral Doberman.
Vice Admiral Onigumo.
Vice Admiral Momonga.
And they weren't letting him out of there alive.
"..."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________