The world was not magma and burning ash.
That was Leo's first, confused thought. He'd closed his eyes, accepting the fiery, agonizing death of a "transmigrator final boss,"
The sound of the Dark Hound's impact, the deafening KABOOM that should have incinerated him, was muffled—dampened by a single, perfectly placed length of black steel.
Leo blinked.
He wasn't dead. He was standing, trembling, with his face less than a foot away from a massive sword blade. The blade was held effortlessly, angled slightly downward, perfectly intercepting the molten edge of Admiral Akainu's gigantic magma fist.
The clash radiated off the sword like a physical shockwave, pushing the smoke and debris back and making the very air feel thick and heavy.
Leo slowly looked up, past the dark, familiar clothing, to the broad back of his savior. The long, scarlet cloak, the simple white shirt, and the missing arm…
"Finally! Koby's savior! No, no, my savior has arrived!" Leo gasped, the words bubbling out in hysterical relief, mixing with the smoke and the lingering sting of the magma heat. He felt the pure, primal joy of a player who just escaped a permadeath scenario by the skin of his teeth.
The Emperor's Presence
Red-Haired Shanks turned his head slightly, his single remaining hand still gripping his sword, Gryphon. His gaze, which had been locked onto the furious Admiral, softened infinitesimally as he looked down at the shaking young man.
"You have guts, young man." Shanks's voice was warm, yet carried an unshakable gravity that instantly commanded silence across the battlefield. He didn't shout; he simply spoke, and the world listened. "Thanks for saving the boy who showed the courage to stop this meaningless fight."
Leo, still high on adrenaline and the knowledge that he had been saved by an Emperor of the Sea—the man he knew was the ultimate peacemaker—puffed out his chest. His uniform was ripped and smoking, his entire body was screaming, but he stood tall.
"Ah, it's okay. No need to thank me. I just… I don't like seeing heroes get turned into donuts," Leo muttered, wincing at his own morbid joke.
Akainu, whose face was a mask of utter fury, pulled his fist back. "Red Hair! This is a Marine operation! You have no right to interfere!"
Shanks did not even glance at him, keeping his focus on Leo. His arrival had shattered the pre-existing tension, instantly sidelining the battle.
The entire Marineford plaza erupted in a simultaneous, terrified realization: The war was over.
On the Whitebeard side, cheers were muted by exhaustion, but pirates across the bay stared in awe.
"Red Hair! He's here! He's really here!"
On the Marine side, the terror was palpable. Fleet Admiral Sengoku could only stand silently, knowing the cost of continuing.
"Impossible! How did he arrive so quickly? He was fighting Kaido yesterday!" bellowed a Rear Admiral.
Shanks finally sheathed Gryphon, the calm action signaling a definitive end to hostilities. He stepped fully into the molten crater, ignoring the residual heat, and fixed his powerful gaze on Leo.
"Now, about you," Shanks said, crossing his good arm. "You wear a uniform I've never seen. You wield a strange, glowing artifact capable of pushing back an Admiral. Tell me, young man. Who are you? Are you a Marine, a Pirate, or something else entirely?"
The question—simple, direct, and asked by one of the four most powerful men in the world—hung heavy in the air. Every ear, from the Whitebeard remnants to the highest-ranking Marine officers, strained to hear Leo's answer.
Leo looked around the battlefield. He saw the cold, unyielding face of Akainu. He saw the tired, relieved grin of Shanks. He saw the chaos caused by the World Government's absolute authority. He saw the carnage of the pirates' freedom.
I have arrived here, a transmigrator with a Devil Fruit power. What will I become?
A Pirate? No. The entire Navy would constantly be on his neck, and he didn't want to live that messy life.
A Marine? Absolutely not. Their "Absolute Justice" was too cruel. He'd just seen firsthand how the high-ranking officials kept silent about the World Government's terrible secrets. He didn't want to become a cog in that corrupt machine.
A Revolutionary? He could help them fight the World Government, but that sounded like too much work, too much dogma, and too much self-sacrifice. He just wanted to play the game!
His gaze fell on Shanks—the man who freely traveled the seas, drank, laughed, and held enough power to stop the world's greatest war with a single sentence.
I am a Gamer. And the ultimate goal of any open-world game is to break the rules, explore everything, and do whatever the hell you want.I will choose that in this One Piece world.
Leo inhaled a massive, smoke-filled breath, his heart pounding with a sudden, powerful clarity. He looked Shanks directly in the eye, ignoring the hundreds of Marine weapons now pointed directly at his head.
He shouted his answer, his voice cracking from the effort, but ringing true across the bay.
"I wanna become the freest person on this sea!"
Far away, at the Sabaody Archipelago, a figure with long, graying hair and a distinct scar—Silvers Rayleigh—paused cleaning a rum bottle, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
"Interesting. A very interesting ambition."
Back at Marineford, the silence was broken by a panicked, low-ranking Marine officer, trembling uncontrollably.
"So—So you want to become the Pirate King?!" the soldier shrieked, misinterpreting the grand ambition.
Leo's eyes widened. "What?! No, no, I didn't say that! I just want to be free!"
Shanks, however, was already grinning, his deep red hair rustling slightly in the wind. He slapped his hand against his sword, a booming laugh echoing across the plaza.
"So you also want to become the Pirate King, young man?"
Leo stared at the Admiral, then at the Emperor, then at the massive fleet, and finally back at his useless, cooldown-locked gauntlet. He wanted to weep.
Oh no. Now I am finished.
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