"Meat!" Luffy shouted, slamming both fists onto the wobbly tavern table hard enough to make the plates jump and the cutlery rattle. A few scraps of food bounced dangerously close to the edge. "More meat!"
Across from him, the old fisherman didn't even flinch. He sat hunched on his stool, weathered hands steady as he shaved thin curls of driftwood from a salt-bleached plank. The knife whispered softly with each pass, calm and unhurried, like the tide rolling in.
"And—wait." Luffy froze mid-demand. His grin faltered, eyes widening like he'd just spotted a Sea King breaching right outside the window. He stared down at his fists, still pressed into the scarred wood. "Why's my punch getting stronger?"
The fisherman flicked a few wood shavings off his knee. "Could be the rum," he muttered.
Luffy frowned. "I didn't drink any." He lifted his hands, turning them over, flexing his fingers like he was trying to grab something invisible. A strange warmth pulsed beneath his skin—deep in his knuckles, crawling along his forearms. It wasn't pain, and it didn't feel like stretching before a fight. It was… busy. Buzzing. Like something waking up.
"Nah, old man," Luffy said, squinting suspiciously at his palm. "Rum just makes Shanks laugh weird. It doesn't make punches stronger."
He jabbed the air experimentally.
Whoosh*
The force of it sent a half-empty tankard skittering across the counter and crashing to the floor, where it shattered in a spray of cheap ale and splinters.
The fisherman finally looked up, one eyebrow inching toward his hairline.
Luffy's mouth fell open for half a second—then stretched into a grin so wide it looked painful. Not at the mess, but at the tingling sensation racing up his arm like excited ants.
"Hey, hey! Did you see that?" Luffy jabbed again.
This time, the air rippled.
Lanterns hanging from the ceiling swayed and clinked together, their flames wobbling wildly. The tavern creaked in protest, as if it had briefly been shoved by an invisible giant.
The fisherman sighed and set his knife down. "Kid, you're hitting like a grown man in his prime," he said flatly. "Either that, or you're having one hell of a growth spurt."
He leaned back and eyed Luffy's scrawny limbs with open skepticism. "Though last I checked, boys don't sprout muscle overnight unless they've been stealing Marine steroids."
Luffy threw his head back and laughed, loud and unrestrained, the sound bursting through the tavern and sending a seagull squawking off the roof outside. "Shishishi! Maybe I just got stronger eating all that meat!"
Makino came out of the kitchen and saw the mess Luffy made. Her eyes suddenly became sinister. "Luffy!" Makino said angrily. "Why is one of my mugs on the floor, and why is it broken?" Her eyes transforming into demon eyes.
Gulp*
Luffy gulped as his head did a 180 and saw Makino angrily looking at him. "Uhh, i don't know" his head turned around again and he started whistling as if he had just been caught red handed.
He hurriedly shoved his chair back, nearly tipping it over, and slapped his belly like it held the answer to the universe.
Before the fisherman could object, Luffy snatched the last skewer off the old man's plate and swallowed it whole. He then ran as if he was being chased for his life.
The fisherman rolled his eyes and shouted. "i hope you choke on that."
"Worth it," Luffy said around the mouthful.
"Dadan's gonna wanna see this," Luffy mumbled, already halfway out the door—then he stopped.
A sharp ding* echoed between his ears.
It wasn't loud, but it was clear. Clean. Mechanical.
Then came a voice, flat and emotionless.
System binding in progress.
Luffy spun in a full circle, straw hat whipping through the air as he scanned the dark street outside Makino's tavern. The village was quiet. Too quiet. Doors were shut, lights were out, and the ocean hummed softly in the distance. Nobody was around.
"Who said that?" Luffy demanded, fists curling as the strange heat flared again.
He twisted back toward the tavern doorway. "Hey, old man! Did you hear anything just now?"
The fisherman yawned, stretching until his joints popped. "Kid, it's past nine. You're hearing things 'cause your belly's full and your brain's asleep." He flicked the driftwood shavings onto the dirt. "Go bother someone else's eardrums."
Luffy stuck his pinky in his ear and wiggled it, considering this wisdom. "Huh. Maybe I am tired."
He yawned so wide his jaw cracked, then nodded sagely at nothing in particular. The strange voice didn't return. Maybe it really was his stomach doing something weird. Meat after midnight always made his dreams strange anyway.
---
The next morning, sunlight spilled across the docks in warm bands of gold. Luffy stretched his arms high over his head, joints popping as he strolled barefoot toward the water, the smell of salt and fish filling the air. He'd slept like a rock.
Then—
System binding complete.
Luffy stopped mid-step.
He tilted his head, eyes crossing slightly as he listened. "Huh?"
He looked left. Then right. Then behind him.
"Who's talking?" Luffy demanded loudly at the empty dock. "Show yourself! I've got two guns here!" He raised his fists proudly. "I call them Righty and Lefty!"
There was a brief pause.
Then the metallic voice returned, calm and utterly unconcerned.
"No need to look around, host. I am inside your head. You will not find anything in your surroundings."
Luffy blinked.
"…Inside my head?" He gasped, eyes lighting up. "Whoa! What are you? And what're you doing in there? Are you a ghost?"
He leaned forward eagerly. "That's awesome!"