Sea Circle Calendar 1494. (28 years before the Summit War.)
In some unnamed stretch of the East Blue.
The sun's out, the sea is sparkling and a gentle breeze is making life pretty sweet for the sailors on deck.
A standard-issue naval warship, seagull flag and all, is cutting through the waves. Its massive sail has "Justice" written on it in big, bold ink.
Yep, a ship of justice.
On the deck of this very ship, a man in sunglasses was kicked back on a lounger, soaking it all in.
"You know," he muttered, "slacking off just hits different when you're supposed to be on the clock."
A little blue box popped into his vision.
[Slacked off during sea patrol. Reward: Slacking Value +100]
This guy's name was Christian Raleigh.
He was a transmigrator, which is a fancy way of saying he used to be a 9-to-5 workaholic on Earth.
One night, after a 4 a.m. overtime, he passed out at his desk and woke up here.
In the One Piece world.
Specifically, on some random, chaotic island in the North Blue.
He would've been fish food ages ago if he hadn't managed to latch onto a reliable "big brother."
And this "big bro" was no joke—it was Borsalino, the man who would one day be known as Marine Admiral "Kizaru."
Two years back, when Borsalino joined the Marines, he insisted on dragging Raleigh with him.
Raleigh thought it over.
Life as a civilian in this world? Hard pass.
Between Celestial Dragons, pirates, and the mafia, he'd be dead in a ditch.
So, prioritizing his own safety (call it "following his heart," call it "cowardice," whatever), he tagged along.
And what do you know? The moment he joined the Marines, he got the standard transmigrator's perk: a cheat system.
Its name? 'The Slacking Off System.'literally.
The rules were simple: slack off during work hours, get "Slacking Value," and use that value to get stronger.
For a man who'd just escaped a life of corporate slavery, this was a dream come true.
Raleigh embraced the slacker life hard.
He'd only joined the Marines for a steady paycheck and a safe place to crash.
Now that he had a system that rewarded him for doing nothing, his motivation to train hit absolute zero.
The instructors at the academy hated him.
The Vice Admirals at Marine HQ? Despised him.
But here's the kicker: thanks to the system, even while napping through training, his strength was still top-tier.
He graduated easily.
The exasperated higher-ups, wanting him out of their hair, shipped him off to the East Blue as a branch base commander.
Finally free from the big bosses at HQ, Raleigh truly let himself go.
We're talking not just slacking at his desk, but taking frequent, paid bathroom breaks.
Honestly, if Kizaru wasn't climbing the ranks and becoming such a big shot back at HQ, Raleigh would've been fired and probably court-martialed by now.
"Heh," Raleigh mused, taking a sip of fresh coconut juice.
"Having a big bro with connections is the best."
He glanced at the other Marines on deck, all training their butts off.
It just made his relaxation even sweeter.
Everyone's got their own path to strength, right? They were all climbing Mount Everest on foot.
He just called a helicopter to the summit.
The East Blue really was the "peaceful sea" compared to the others.
This was before the Great Age of Pirates.
The infamous Rocks Pirates? Already history after the God Valley incident.
The main players left were the Roger Pirates and Golden Lion's crew.
Right now, the New World was a total free-for-all.
Whitebeard, Golden Lion, Big Mom, and a still-developing Kaido were all grabbing territory.
Roger's crew didn't care about land, but they were still one of the strongest crews out there, adding to the chaos.
But... what did any of that have to do with him?
Raleigh planned to follow his big bro's philosophy.
Kizaru fought plenty of battles and got plenty of credit, but the guy never even got his suit dirty.
He'd just spam area-of-effect attacks, look flashy as hell, and somehow deal the least actual damage.
That was the true art of slacking.
He took another sip of coconut juice, basking in the sun.
'Life was good.'
It'd been almost half a year in the East Blue, and he'd barely faced a real threat.
Most days, he just watched his subordinates handle things from the comfort of his ship.
And the most ferocious of his subordinates was Commander Momonga.
Funny story, Momonga and Raleigh were classmates back at the academy.
And yes, the slacking Raleigh consistently wiped the floor with him.
Their friendship started, as many dude-friendships do, with a random meal.
After beating Momonga in a spar, Raleigh's stomach rumbled.
The academy food was garbage, and he wanted to sneak out.
He spotted the beat-up Momonga, and boom—an excuse.
He insisted on "apologizing" by treating Momonga to dinner, got them a leave pass from the instructor, and dragged him out the gates.
By the end of the meal, Momonga wasn't even mad anymore.
From rivals, they somehow became best friends.
When Raleigh got shipped to the East Blue, Momonga ignored everyone's advice and followed him as his deputy.
Raleigh looked up.
Speak of the devil, there was Momonga on the main deck, practicing his swordsmanship.
'Sheesh, even Momonga's going that hard,' Raleigh thought. 'Is it really okay for me to be lounging around like this?'
(The answer was yes. Yes, it was.)
As if he felt the stare, Momonga stopped his relentless swinging.
He walked over to the sun lounger, sword in hand, and grabbed the coconut juice Raleigh had been drinking.
Without a second thought, he chugged the rest of it.
This wasn't the tough-as-nails Vice Admiral of the future.
This Momonga was still green, fresh out of the academy, and soaked in sweat like he'd just jumped in the ocean.
"Going a little hard today, aren't you, pal?" Raleigh asked. "You haven't taken a break all morning."
How many swings was that? Five thousand? Ten thousand? Raleigh had lost count.
Every time he'd bothered to look, Momonga was just... swinging.
"I have to," Momonga said, his eyes fixed on Raleigh with that fiery determination.
"I need to train. One day, I'm going to surpass you."
Raleigh just smirked.
"Why bother comparing yourself to me? I'm a genius, remember?" he said, not even blinking.
"You...!" Momonga looked genuinely ticked off. "You have all that talent! Why don't you ever work hard?"
Raleigh chuckled.
"Hey, if geniuses like me also had to work hard, what chance would ordinary people even have?"
...
Momonga was speechless.
He really regretted becoming friends with this guy over one stupid meal.
But, annoyingly, Raleigh was right.
In this world, strength was everything.
The only reason Momonga wasn't off commanding his own branch was because he knew he got stronger, faster, under Raleigh.
Even though he was just a Commander, he could probably take on a Captain.
It was all thanks to this insufferably lazy guy who, between naps, would toss him world-class training advice.
"Whatever," Momonga huffed, turning to go back to the deck. "Just keep... resting, I guess."
He had to hit ten thousand swings, then move on to weight training.
"Will do..." Raleigh's voice was already trailing off.
'The damn sun was just too warm, the breeze too nice.'
He was getting drowsy...
A second later, he was fast asleep.
[Sleeping during patrol. Slacking Value +100]