Boom—
The deafening roar erupted once more, sending dust raining down from the steel and concrete overhead like a shower of dirt.
Ryan instinctively ducked his head and scrambled sideways half a step. A burning piece of wood plank whizzed past his ear and smashed onto the ground with a sharp crack, scattering a shower of sparks that sent a numb, stinging sensation across the back of his neck.
This place was literally hell on earth.
Flames danced everywhere, and the thick black smoke was like ink that refused to dissipate. Every breath felt like swallowing fire, leaving his throat parched and painful.
Researchers in white lab coats flailed blindly in the flames, their agonized screams as piercing as a pig being slaughtered, making one's scalp crawl. Others, clad in the same black-and-white striped prison uniform as him, were running around like madmen. One unlucky soul had just taken two steps before a collapsing metal frame crushed him flat, splattering red and white matter everywhere. The sight churned Ryan's stomach.
Leaning against the cool Alloy wall, Ryan gasped for air. The clothes on his back were already soaked through with sweat, now half-dried by the heat, stiff and clinging to his skin like sandpaper.
The prison uniform was already tattered, and after his frantic dash, it had gained several new tears. A fresh cut now ran beside an old scar on his arm, blood droplets welling up and trickling down his elbow.
His bangs were plastered damply against his forehead, obscuring his vision. He shook his head, revealing his wide, bewildered gray-blue eyes.
Anyone who had been sleeping soundly in their rented apartment bed one second, only to wake up transmigrated into an experimental prisoner in this godforsaken place amidst a massive explosion, would look just as terrified out of their wits.
"Just my damn luck!" Ryan spat a mouthful of bloody saliva. His throat was bone-dry and burning, the pain making him grimace.
He was just an ordinary wage slave, squeezing onto subways and revising proposals every day. Just because he'd fallen asleep exhausted from overtime, how had he ended up in this hellhole?
Even worse, he looked down at the prison uniform he was wearing and surveyed his surroundings. His mind was crystal clear—this uniform, this explosion, the name of this damned place... Punk Hazard!
Wasn't this the broken-down island known as the "Island of Death" in One Piece? He had actually transmigrated here!
And judging by his situation, he was most likely an experimental prisoner captured for Gigantification research—the kind who could be dissected at any moment. And right now, he was caught right at the moment of the Punk Hazard explosion caused by Caesar.
"Talk about the worst luck in eight lifetimes!" he couldn't help but curse again. Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet shook, startling him into gripping the wall tighter.
Just then, a sickly sweet, slightly fishy odor wafted over. Pale purple smoke, snakelike, seeped in through the ventilation shaft.
Ryan's heart sank. He barely had time to cover his nose before his head felt like it had been struck by a blunt object, growing dizzy. The flames before his eyes began to spin, and the screams in his ears turned into a dull buzzing.
"Not good, it's poison gas!" The thought had just crossed his mind when his legs turned as weak as noodles. Instinct for survival made him stagger forward, running blindly, not caring about the direction, just wanting to get as far away from that damned smoke as possible.
He crashed through door after door, his elbows aching from hitting the doorframes, but he didn't even have the breath to cry out.
After running for who knows how long, he stumbled into a room that was relatively less suffocating, filled with rows of glass jars covered with cloth, looking like a laboratory.
Ryan leaned against the wall, coughing violently, bent over so much he couldn't straighten his back. His vision blurred with darkness, and he felt like he could collapse at any moment.
Just then, he caught sight of a glass jar placed on a table in the center. Inside the jar was an object, entirely gray and twisted like old tree roots.
"Isn't this... a Devil Fruit?"
Ryan's mind instantly cleared up, and his eyes widened. He recognized it at once—the shape, the color—it was the Artificial Dragon Fruit created by Vegapunk based on Kaido's lineage factor.
The very one Momonosuke later ate!
The burning pain in his lungs grew increasingly intense, and his consciousness was fading rapidly. Ryan's heart pounded wildly.
Ryan knew this fruit was considered a failure by Vegapunk, but he clearly remembered that aside from its color, it was almost identical to Kaido's Azure Dragon Fruit!
The Azure Dragon Fruit had the ability to resist toxins!
This thought shone like a light in his desperate heart. If he could eat it and succeed, he would survive!
Who cared about flaws or risks now? Survival was all that mattered. Ryan scrambled over, pushed aside the glass cover, grabbed the fruit, and shoved it into his mouth.
With one bite, the taste was absolutely foul—fishy and astringent, like rotten bananas mixed with the metallic tang of rust. It was so disgusting he nearly vomited on the spot.
But he forced himself to endure the nausea, chewed a couple of times, and swallowed it down.
However, several seconds passed, and aside from the lingering strange taste in his mouth, he felt no abnormalities—no surge of strength, no transformation into some bizarre form.
"Damn it... this piece of junk is useless..." Ryan's last shred of hope shattered. Despairingly, he leaned against the shelf, his vision went black, and he slid down along the shelf, collapsing heavily onto the floor.
So, he wasn't even as good as Momonosuke.
Well, maybe if he slept a little longer, he'd wake up back home.
Just as his consciousness was about to fade completely, he felt a cool energy slowly spreading from his stomach, flowing like ripples of water to every part of his body. The toxic fumes that had been burning his lungs rapidly dissolved upon contact with this energy, like snow meeting heat...
...
At the harbor.
Several ships bearing the Marine insignia were busy evacuating personnel. The decks were bustling with activity as Marine soldiers shouted loudly, directing researchers evacuating from the island to board the ships.
Waves crashed against the hulls with a splashing sound, mingling with the soldiers' shouts and people's coughs, creating a scene of utter chaos.
"Hurry! Move faster! Is there anyone left who hasn't boarded?" a Marine squad leader yelled from the edge of the deck, sweat beading on his forehead.
Just then, a young Marine suddenly pointed at the sky, his face filled with shock as he shouted, "Look! What is that?"
Everyone followed his gaze and saw a small pink dragon emerging from the toxic smoke in the sky.
The little dragon was not large in size, only about two to three meters long. Its horns were pale yellow, and the whiskers around its mouth were also pale yellow, gently swaying. Its round eyes carried a mix of innocence and sharpness, while its dorsal fin to tail were peach-red.
The little dragon trod on a small flame cloud, breaking through layers of toxic mist. Its scales shimmered with a strange luster under the faint light. It swung its tail, tracing an arc in the air—a posture that, though youthful, carried an indescribable dignity.
The Marines at the port were stunned, one after another halting their tasks to look up at the suddenly appearing little dragon, their faces filled with shock and confusion.
"Is that... a dragon?"
"How can a dragon have such colors?"
"Did it come from the island?"
Various questions arose among the crowd.
Meanwhile, the peach-red little dragon seemed unaware of the Marines below, flying forward with single-minded determination as if fleeing from something, and soon vanished beyond the distant horizon.