Roger woke up with a spider on his face.
This was not how he wanted to start his second day of being alive in a ninja world. He screamed, flailed, and launched the spider approximately fifteen feet into the underbrush, where it probably landed perfectly fine and would tell all its spider friends about the crazy mustached man in the forest.
"I hate nature," Roger announced to no one. "I hate nature SO much."
He had spent the night sleeping against a tree because he had failed spectacularly at making fire, building shelter, or doing anything remotely useful. His back ached. His neck was stiff. His magnificent captain's coat was covered in leaves and dirt.
"The Pirate King shouldn't have to deal with this," he grumbled, standing up and stretching. "Gol D. Roger had a CREW. He had a SHIP. He had people who handled the camping logistics."
Roger had none of those things.
What he DID have, apparently, was a growing reputation as some kind of revolutionary figure who was inspiring people to become pirates.
He still couldn't believe that had actually worked.
"Okay," Roger said, trying to plan his next move. "Step one: find food. Step two: find water. Step three: figure out how to not die when the ninjas inevitably come to kill me for causing a public disturbance."
His stomach growled aggressively.
"Step one it is."
Finding food in the forest was harder than Roger had anticipated.
He had watched enough survival shows in his previous life to know that berries existed, but he had absolutely no idea which ones were edible and which ones would kill him painfully. He had seen a rabbit, but the rabbit had looked at him with such judgment that he couldn't bring himself to try catching it.
After two hours of wandering aimlessly and getting progressively hungrier, Roger finally stumbled upon a stream with some fish in it.
"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "I can catch fish! How hard can it be?"
Very hard, as it turned out.
Roger spent the next hour standing in knee-deep water, trying to grab fish with his bare hands while they effortlessly dodged him like he was moving in slow motion. Which, compared to ninja reflexes, he probably was.
"HOLD STILL!" he shouted at a particularly smug-looking fish. "I AM THE PIRATE KING! YOU SHOULD BE HONORED TO BE EATEN BY ME!"
The fish was not honored. The fish swam away.
Roger sat down in the middle of the stream, soaking wet and defeated.
"This is humiliating," he muttered. "I gave an iconic speech. I started an era. And now I'm going to starve to death because I can't catch a FISH."
He sat there for a long moment, contemplating his life choices.
And then he heard voices.
Roger's head snapped up. People were approaching—multiple people, moving through the forest with purpose. His first instinct was to hide, but he was sitting in the middle of a stream like an idiot, and there wasn't really anywhere to go.
The bushes parted, and Roger found himself face-to-face with a group of civilians. They were young, mostly teenagers and young adults, and they were carrying... backpacks? Supplies? Was that a SWORD?
"IT'S HIM!" one of them shouted. "IT'S ROGER-SAMA!"
Oh no.
"WE FOUND THE PIRATE KING!"
The group rushed forward, and Roger barely had time to stand up before they surrounded him, eyes shining with excitement and admiration.
"Roger-sama!" a young woman said breathlessly. "We've been looking for you all night! We want to join your crew!"
"My... crew?"
"Yes! We want to become pirates! We want to search for One Piece!"
Roger stared at them.
There were about a dozen people in the group, ranging from what looked like sixteen to maybe twenty-five. They had clearly prepared for some kind of journey—they had bags, weapons, food...
Food.
"You have food?" Roger asked, his priorities immediately shifting.
"Of course! We prepared supplies for the voyage!"
"What voyage? There's no ocean here."
The group exchanged glances.
"Well," one of the young men said, "we figured you would know where to go. You're the Pirate King!"
Roger opened his mouth to explain that he was actually just a reincarnated convenience store worker who had made a speech for nostalgia and had no actual treasure or plan, but then he saw the food in their bags.
His stomach growled.
"Right," Roger said slowly. "Yes. I definitely know where to go. But first, we should eat. A pirate crew must be well-fed before embarking on adventure!"
The group cheered.
Roger felt slightly guilty about deceiving these earnest young people.
Not guilty enough to tell the truth, though. Not when there was food involved.
Thirty minutes later, Roger was sitting by a campfire that his new "crew" had built, eating rice balls and dried fish like a man who hadn't eaten in two days. Because he hadn't.
"So, Roger-sama," the young woman from before said. Her name was Yuki, and she seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group. "Where is One Piece hidden?"
Roger nearly choked on his rice ball.
"That's... a secret," he managed after coughing for a solid minute.
"But you're going to lead us there, right?"
"The journey is more important than the destination!" Roger said, which was technically true and also completely unhelpful.
The group nodded sagely, as if he had imparted great wisdom.
Roger was starting to realize that he could say almost anything and these people would treat it like profound philosophy. It was both flattering and deeply concerning.
"Roger-sama," another crew member said—a young man named Takeshi who had the eager energy of someone who had never experienced hardship in his life. "What does it mean to be a pirate?"
Roger chewed his rice ball thoughtfully.
"A pirate," he said, channeling every One Piece speech he had ever memorized, "is someone who lives free. Someone who doesn't let the world tell them who they should be or what they should do. A pirate chases their dreams, no matter how impossible they seem. A pirate values their nakama—their crew, their friends—above all else."
The group was hanging on his every word.
"But most importantly," Roger continued, getting into it now, "a pirate never gives up. No matter how hard things get, no matter how many obstacles stand in your way, you keep moving forward. Because the moment you stop chasing your dream is the moment you truly die."
Silence.
And then Yuki started crying.
"That's... that's so beautiful, Roger-sama!"
"I've never felt so inspired!"
"I want to live free! I want to chase my dreams!"
Roger watched as his entire "crew" had an emotional moment over a speech he had mostly stolen from Luffy.
He felt like a fraud.
But also, seeing these people so moved, so excited about the idea of freedom and adventure... it felt good. In his old world, he had been nobody. A convenience store worker with no ambitions beyond finishing his anime backlog. Here, he was somehow inspiring people.
Even if it was based on lies.
"Anyway," Roger said, trying to change the subject before things got too emotional. "Tell me about this world. I've been... traveling. I don't know much about the local area."
This was a blatant lie, but his crew accepted it without question.
"Well," Yuki said, "we're in Fire Country. The Hidden Leaf Village—Konoha—is about a day's travel from here. It's one of the great ninja villages."
"Ninja villages," Roger repeated, pretending this was new information.
"Yes! There are five major ones. They control most of the world's military power. The Hokage leads Konoha—he's supposed to be very powerful."
Roger nodded, filing away information he already knew. The real question was: what time period was he in? He needed more specific details.
"And the current Hokage is...?"
"The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen. He came back out of retirement after the Fourth Hokage died."
That confirmed it. Six years after the Nine-Tails attack.
"Any recent major events?" Roger asked casually. "Wars? Catastrophes? Anything like that?"
The group exchanged glances.
"There was the Nine-Tails attack," Takeshi said quietly. "About six years ago. A demon fox attacked Konoha. Many people died, including the Fourth Hokage."
Roger nodded solemnly, pretending this was news to him.
"I see. That must have been terrible."
"It was," Yuki said softly. "My uncle died in the attack."
Roger didn't know what to say to that. In his old world, the Nine-Tails attack was just backstory, a tragic event that set up Naruto's character. Here, it was real. People had actually died. Families had been destroyed.
"I'm sorry," he said, and meant it.
The somber mood was broken by the sound of rustling in the bushes.
Everyone tensed.
"What was that?" Takeshi whispered.
Roger stood up, his hand instinctively going to his side—where a sword would be, if he had one. Which he didn't.
"Stay calm," he said, projecting confidence he didn't feel. "It's probably just an animal."
It was not an animal.
The bushes parted, and four figures emerged. They were wearing masks—animal masks—and moving with the kind of fluid grace that screamed "professional killer."
ANBU.
"Gol D. Roger," the lead ANBU said, his voice cold and flat behind his mask. "You are under arrest for inciting civil unrest, spreading seditious ideology, and crimes against the state."
Roger blinked.
"Crimes against the state? I gave ONE SPEECH."
"That speech has caused seventeen separate incidents of civilians attempting to become 'pirates.' Three fishing boats have been stolen. A merchant caravan was looted by individuals claiming to be 'searching for One Piece.' You have destabilized an entire region in less than twenty-four hours."
"I feel like you're exaggerating."
"You have been sentenced to public execution in Konoha."
"PUBLIC EXECUTION?!"
Roger's crew leaped to their feet, grabbing their makeshift weapons.
"You can't execute Roger-sama!" Yuki shouted. "He's the Pirate King!"
"There is no such thing as a Pirate King," the ANBU said dismissively. "This man is a dangerous agitator, and he will be dealt with accordingly."
Roger's mind raced. He had no powers, no combat training, and no way to fight off four ANBU. His crew was enthusiastic but completely untrained—they would be cut down in seconds if they tried to fight.
But then a thought occurred to him.
Public execution. In Konoha. On a platform, presumably.
Just like the real Roger.
A grin spread across his face.
"Wait," Roger said, holding up his hands. "I'll go with you willingly. No fighting, no resistance. But leave my crew alone. They're just kids who got caught up in something they didn't understand."
"Roger-sama, no!" Takeshi protested.
"Quiet," Roger said firmly. "A captain protects his crew. That's the first rule of piracy."
The ANBU considered for a moment.
"Fine. The civilians are irrelevant. You are the target."
Before Roger could react, one of the ANBU was behind him, and something hit the back of his neck.
The world went black.
But Roger was smiling as he fell.
This was perfect.
Roger woke up in chains.
He was being transported in a cage on wheels, like some kind of exotic animal. Through the bars, he could see the streets of Konoha passing by, and crowds of people lining the roads to watch.
"THE PIRATE KING!" someone shouted from the crowd. "THEY CAPTURED THE PIRATE KING!"
"Is that really him? The one who talked about the treasure?"
"He doesn't look like much..."
"But his speech was amazing! My son wants to become a pirate now!"
Roger sat up in his cage, chains rattling, and grinned at the crowd.
"GOOD MORNING, KONOHA!" he bellowed, his voice carrying over the noise. "LOVELY DAY FOR AN EXECUTION, ISN'T IT?"
The crowd went wild. Some cheered, some booed, but everyone was paying attention.
An ANBU guard banged on the cage.
"Quiet, prisoner!"
"Make me," Roger said cheerfully.
The guard looked like he wanted to, but they were in public, and appearances had to be maintained.
Roger laughed and waved at the crowd with his chained hands.
This was going to be SPECTACULAR.
The execution platform had been set up in the main square of Konoha, right in front of the Hokage building. It was a simple wooden structure, raised high enough that everyone could see, with stairs leading up to the top.
It was perfect.
Roger was dragged out of his cage and marched up the stairs, flanked by ANBU on all sides. The crowd had grown massive—it seemed like half the village had turned out to watch. Civilians, merchants, even ninja were gathered, all staring at the strange mustachioed man who had caused so much chaos in such a short time.
At the base of the platform, Roger spotted a familiar face.
A young boy with silver hair and a mask covering half his face.
Kakashi Hatake, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, watching with that single visible eye.
Next to him was an older man with a scarred face and a bandana—Might Guy's father? No, that wasn't right. Maybe just a random jonin.
It didn't matter. What mattered was the platform, the crowd, and the opportunity.
Roger was shoved to his knees at the center of the platform. An executioner stood nearby, holding a very large, very sharp blade.
"Citizens of Konoha!" a voice announced. Roger looked up to see an official-looking ninja addressing the crowd. "This man, who calls himself 'Roger,' has been found guilty of inciting civil unrest, spreading dangerous ideology, and destabilizing the peace of Fire Country! The punishment is death!"
The crowd murmured. Some cheered. Some looked uncertain.
"Does the prisoner have any last words?" the official asked, almost as an afterthought.
Roger grinned.
"Actually, yes. Yes, I do."
He rose to his feet, chains rattling. The ANBU moved to force him back down, but Roger's voice cut through the air like thunder.
"PEOPLE OF KONOHA!"
The crowd fell silent.
Roger stood tall, his captain's coat billowing in the wind—someone had actually let him keep it, probably for dramatic effect—and his magnificent mustache perfectly framed his confident smile.
"You want to know where my treasure is?" he called out, his voice reaching every corner of the square. "You want to know where I left everything this world has to offer?"
The crowd leaned in.
From a balcony on the Hokage building, an old man in robes watched with narrowed eyes. Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, had come to witness the execution personally.
"MY TREASURE?" Roger roared, throwing his arms wide despite the chains. "IF YOU WANT IT, YOU CAN HAVE IT! SEARCH FOR IT!"
The crowd was hanging on every word.
"I LEFT EVERYTHING THIS WORLD HAS TO OFFER IN THAT PLACE!"
Someone in the crowd shouted, "WHERE?! WHERE IS IT?!"
Roger's grin widened to impossible proportions.
"THE GRAND LINE!" he thundered. "FIND THE GRAND LINE, AND YOU'LL FIND ONE PIECE! THE GREATEST TREASURE IN THE WORLD!"
The crowd erupted.
"THE GRAND LINE!"
"ONE PIECE!"
"HE REALLY DID HIDE A TREASURE!"
"I'M GOING TO FIND IT!"
The official was shouting for order, but no one was listening. The crowd was in a frenzy, people pushing and shoving, some already running off to start their search.
On the balcony, the Third Hokage's pipe nearly fell from his mouth.
"The Grand Line?" he murmured. "How does he know about that?"
His advisors exchanged alarmed glances.
"Lord Hokage, that information is classified! The Grand Line was sealed centuries ago by the First Hokage himself! How could this outsider possibly know about it?!"
Down on the platform, Roger was still going.
"ONE PIECE EXISTS!" he roared at the top of his lungs. "THE GREATEST ADVENTURE AWAITS THOSE WITH THE COURAGE TO SEEK IT! WILL YOU LIVE YOUR LIVES IN CHAINS, OR WILL YOU CHASE YOUR DREAMS ACROSS THE SEA?!"
"WE'LL CHASE OUR DREAMS!" someone screamed back.
"THEN GO! FIND IT! BECOME PIRATES! BECOME FREE!"
The crowd was beyond control now. People were climbing over each other, fights were breaking out, and somewhere in the chaos, a group of young men were already chanting "PIRATE KING! PIRATE KING!"
Kakashi watched from the edge of the square, his single eye wide with something that might have been shock.
"What is happening?" he muttered to himself.
The official on the platform was frantically trying to restore order.
"EXECUTE HIM!" he screamed at the executioner. "EXECUTE HIM NOW!"
The executioner raised his blade.
Roger looked up at the descending sword with the same grin on his face.
"LONG LIVE THE AGE OF PIRATES!" he bellowed.
The blade fell—
And stopped.
A wrinkled hand had caught the executioner's wrist.
Roger looked up to see the Third Hokage himself standing on the platform, having appeared from nowhere with the speed that only a Kage could manage.
"Lord Hokage!" the official sputtered. "What are you—"
"Stop the execution," Hiruzen said quietly. His voice was calm, but there was iron underneath.
"But sir! This man is a criminal! He's inciting—"
"I can see what he's inciting. And killing him now will only make it worse." The Hokage looked down at Roger with ancient, calculating eyes. "You've caused quite a commotion, young man."
"I'm not that young," Roger said cheerfully. "And I haven't even gotten started."
"The Grand Line," Hiruzen said slowly. "That name hasn't been spoken publicly in over a hundred years. How do you know about it?"
Roger's grin didn't waver.
"I know many things, old man. The question is—are you going to kill me and let those secrets die with me? Or are you going to be smart about this?"
The crowd was still in chaos below. ANBU were trying to restore order, but it was like trying to hold back the tide.
Hiruzen took a long drag from his pipe.
"Take him to my office," he said finally. "We have much to discuss."
"Lord Hokage, you can't be serious—"
"I am perfectly serious. This man knows something important. And more importantly..." He looked out at the crowd, at the chaos, at the fire that had been lit in people's eyes. "He's already changed everything. Killing him now won't undo that."
Roger laughed as ANBU grabbed him and started leading him away.
"Smart choice, old man! You won't regret it!"
"I already regret it," Hiruzen muttered.
The Hokage's office was exactly what Roger expected—traditional, cluttered with paperwork, and dominated by a large desk where the old man sat like a spider in the center of a web.
Roger had been unchained but was still flanked by ANBU. Not that it mattered. He couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag, let alone past elite ninja.
"Sit," Hiruzen commanded.
Roger sat.
"Now then." The Hokage steepled his fingers and fixed Roger with a piercing stare. "You are going to tell me everything. Starting with how you know about the Grand Line."
Roger leaned back in his chair, completely at ease despite the deadly situation.
"The Grand Line is a legendary sea route that circles the entire world," he said casually. "It's divided into two halves—Paradise and the New World—separated by the Red Line. The waters are treacherous, filled with unpredictable weather, sea monsters, and islands that defy logic. It was sealed away by powerful figures long ago because they feared what people might find there."
Hiruzen's eyes widened slightly.
"That information... some of it matches our records. But some of it doesn't. Paradise? The New World? We have no record of those names."
Roger shrugged.
"Maybe your records are incomplete. Or maybe I know things that were never written down."
"How? Where does your knowledge come from?"
"I told you. I know many things."
Hiruzen's expression hardened.
"Don't play games with me. I've been a ninja longer than you've been alive. I can tell when someone is hiding something."
"Everyone hides something. The question is whether what I'm hiding is worth torturing out of me, or if you'd rather use me for something more productive."
The Hokage was silent for a long moment.
"You're bold," he said finally. "Foolishly bold. You have no chakra, no combat ability, and you're surrounded by people who could kill you in an instant. Yet you sit there bargaining as if you hold all the cards."
"I do hold the cards," Roger said. "Not physical power—I know I don't have that. But I have something more important. I have ideas. I have knowledge. And most importantly, I have the ability to inspire people."
"You mean incite them to chaos."
"Chaos and inspiration are two sides of the same coin. What looks like disorder to you looks like awakening to those people out there." Roger gestured vaguely toward the window, where the sounds of the still-unruly crowd could be heard. "You've kept them content for generations. Told them the system works, that ninja will protect them, that their place in society is fixed. And they believed it. Until now."
"And now?"
"Now they're asking questions. Wondering if there's more to life than following orders and paying taxes. Dreaming of adventure, of treasure, of freedom." Roger grinned. "You can't put that genie back in the bottle, Hokage. Not even if you kill me."
Hiruzen took another long drag from his pipe.
"You're right," he admitted. "Killing you now would only martyr you. Make you a symbol." He sighed heavily. "I'm too old for this."
"Then don't fight it. Work with it."
"Work with chaos?"
"Channel it. The Grand Line exists, right? You know that much. People are going to try to find it whether you want them to or not. So why not control that impulse? Send expeditions. Explore officially. Turn this 'pirate' movement into something constructive."
Hiruzen stared at him.
"You're suggesting I sponsor treasure hunting."
"I'm suggesting you adapt to changing circumstances instead of trying to crush them. The shinobi system has worked for centuries, but that doesn't mean it's perfect. Maybe a little chaos, a little questioning, is exactly what this world needs."
"That's... idealistic."
"So was peace, once. Now you have five major villages that manage to not constantly murder each other. Change is possible."
The Hokage was quiet for a very long time.
"You're dangerous," he said finally. "Not because you're powerful, but because your words make people think. And thinking leads to questioning. And questioning leads to change."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"It depends on the change." Hiruzen stood and walked to the window, looking out over the village. "I've led Konoha through war and peace. I've seen the best and worst of humanity. And I've learned that change, while sometimes necessary, is also dangerous. People die during transitions. Societies crumble. Powers shift."
"And yet you haven't ordered me killed."
"No. I haven't." Hiruzen turned back to face him. "Because despite everything, I'm curious. About you, about your knowledge, about what you really want."
"I want people to be free," Roger said simply. "I want them to chase their dreams, to live without being crushed by systems they never agreed to. I want adventures and laughter and the kind of life that makes death worth it."
"Those are beautiful words. But words don't feed people. Words don't protect villages."
"No. But words inspire people to create systems that do both better than what exists now." Roger leaned forward. "The shinobi system is built on child soldiers and hidden violence. You train kids to kill before they're old enough to understand what they're doing. You send them into wars that exist because villages can't share resources peacefully. Is that really the best you can do?"
Hiruzen's expression flickered.
"We do what we must to survive."
"Survival isn't living. It's existing. And existence without purpose is just slow death."
The door opened, and a young ninja entered. Silver hair. Masked face. Kakashi.
"Lord Hokage," Kakashi said, his voice flat. "You called for me?"
"Ah, Kakashi. Yes." Hiruzen gestured toward Roger. "I want you to keep an eye on our guest here. He'll be staying in the village for the time being, under close supervision."
Kakashi's visible eye moved to Roger, studying him with the cold assessment of a trained killer.
"This is the man who caused the riot?"
"That's a strong word," Roger said. "I prefer 'inspired public enthusiasm.'"
"People are forming pirate crews in the streets. They're stealing boats. A group tried to breach the eastern wall claiming they were 'setting sail.'"
"Okay, that's a little excessive."
Kakashi's eye narrowed.
"You don't seem concerned."
"Should I be? I told people to chase their dreams. If their dream is to find treasure, that's their choice. I can't control how people interpret my message."
"Your message caused this chaos."
"No, the chaos was always there. I just gave it a direction."
Kakashi looked at the Hokage.
"Sir, are you sure about this? This man is clearly dangerous."
"More dangerous than I initially thought," Hiruzen agreed. "Which is exactly why I want you watching him. You're young, Kakashi, but you're also one of our most capable jonin. And more importantly, you're not easily swayed by pretty words."
"Hey," Roger protested mildly.
"That's exactly the problem," Hiruzen continued. "This man can influence almost anyone. I need someone who will resist that influence while still keeping him close enough to monitor."
Kakashi nodded sharply.
"Understood. I'll watch him."
"Excellent." Hiruzen turned back to Roger. "You will be provided with living quarters. You will not leave the village without permission. You will not give any more public speeches. And you will share everything you know about the Grand Line with our research teams."
"And in exchange?"
"In exchange, I won't have you killed."
"Generous."
"I thought so."
Roger stood, stretching his chains-free arms.
"Fine. I accept your terms. But just so you know—the age of pirates has already begun. No matter what you do, no matter how much you try to control it, people are waking up. And once people start dreaming, they don't stop."
He walked toward the door, past Kakashi, and paused.
"You know," he said to the young ninja, "you've got the eyes of someone who's forgotten how to dream. That's sad. You should work on that."
Kakashi didn't respond.
Roger laughed and walked out.
The apartment they gave him was small but serviceable. There were ANBU stationed outside every window—he could sense them even without any special abilities—and the door had been reinforced with seals.
Roger didn't care. He flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, a grin spreading across his face.
"Phase one complete," he said to himself.
He had given the speech. He had survived. He had even gotten the Hokage's attention and a certain amount of political protection.
And best of all, the Grand Line was real.
He hadn't been making it up.
Well, he HAD been making it up, originally. But apparently, by some cosmic joke, the Grand Line actually existed in this world. Which meant...
"Maybe One Piece exists too," Roger murmured.
He laughed at the absurdity of it all.
He had come to this world with nothing—no powers, no resources, no plan. And within two days, he had started a revolution, learned that his fictional treasure hunt might be REAL, and made himself too valuable to kill.
Not bad for a dead convenience store worker.
"Tomorrow," Roger said to the empty room, "I figure out what else from One Piece exists in this world. And then..."
His grin widened.
"Then the REAL adventure begins."
Outside his window, Kakashi watched silently, his single eye tracking every movement Roger made.
The man was strange. Dangerous. And his words about dreaming and freedom had lodged in Kakashi's mind like splinters.
"Forgotten how to dream," Kakashi muttered to himself. "What does that even mean?"
He didn't have an answer.
But for the first time in years, he found himself wondering.
In the streets of Konoha, despite the late hour, groups of people were still gathered. They were talking, planning, dreaming. The word "pirate" was on everyone's lips.
A six-year-old boy with blonde hair and whisker marks on his cheeks watched from a rooftop, eyes wide with wonder.
He had heard the speech. He had seen the strange mustachioed man stand tall on the execution platform and defy death itself.
"One Piece," Naruto Uzumaki whispered to himself. "The greatest treasure in the world..."
He didn't know what it was. He didn't know where the Grand Line was. But he knew one thing for certain:
He was going to find it.
Because for the first time in his life, someone had told him that dreams were worth chasing.