Edward Kenway was a nineteen-year-old transmigrator from Earth, suddenly thrust into the chaotic seas of the One Piece world. He had mastered every Assassin skill from the Creed's lineage. Altaïr's eagle vision and stealth lived in his senses. Ezio's parkour and dual wielding flowed naturally through his movements. Connor's raw fury and combat instincts sat coiled beneath his calm exterior. From his namesake, Edward Kenway, he inherited unmatched sailing talent and brutal efficiency in naval combat.
He wore the iconic hooded robes of an Assassin, the familiar weight of hidden blades resting beneath his sleeves. Dual swords hung at his sides, flintlock pistols secured and ready, with smoke bombs, poison darts, and a rope dart completing his arsenal. Every piece of equipment felt right, as if it had always belonged to him. Alongside his skills, he possessed the Gacha System, a mysterious power that allowed him to draw abilities from other worlds such as anime, movies, and television. These abilities could only be obtained using points earned by defeating enemies, whether they were humans, sea beasts, or other races. At the moment, his points remained at zero.
He had just materialized on the sun baked docks of Loguetown in the East Blue, the infamous town of the beginning and the end where Gol D. Roger had met his fate and sparked the Great Pirate Era. The salty air whipped around him, mixed with the noise of merchants shouting over their goods and Marines patrolling the streets. The transmigration had been sudden, a blinding flash that ripped him away from his old life. Still slightly disoriented, Edward steadied himself against a wooden crate and felt the call of the vast ocean beyond the horizon. Despite his sudden appearance, no one around him seemed to notice anything unusual.
His condition was perfect. His inventory was intact. A pair of hidden blades, dual cutlasses, four flintlock pistols with ammo pouches, five smoke bombs, ten poison darts, a rope dart, his Assassin hood and robes already equipped, a compass, a spyglass, and fifty thousand Berries.
Seagulls cried overhead as Edward calmly scanned his surroundings. Ships bobbed in the harbor, ranging from merchant vessels to small pirate skiffs. To the north stood the town square with its execution platform, heavy with history. To the south lay taverns and shops packed with sailors and travelers. Edward took it all in quietly, aware that this was only the beginning.
Edward decided to gain the high ground first, an instinct born from countless lifetimes spent on rooftops and ship rigging. The docks were busy and loud, but his attention fixed on the tallest nearby structure, a weathered three story warehouse with a wide slanted roof that overlooked the harbor. Along one side, stacked crates and barrels formed a rough path upward.
With the smooth, practiced grace of a master Assassin, he vaulted onto the first crate and then the next, boots barely making a sound against the wood. His hidden blades stayed retracted as he moved. A short leap let him catch the edge of a low awning, and he pulled himself up with ease, rolling onto the slanted roof tiles without a single noise. From this vantage point, the eastern docks spread out beneath him like a living map.
Merchant ships were unloading spices and rum. Fishermen hauled in heavy nets, their voices blending with the creak of ropes. Clusters of sailors argued and bargained over barrels. Near the pier, a scruffy pirate sloop with black sails sat under the wary gaze of two Marine patrols, their attention clearly fixed on the vessel.
Edward crouched low, his hood casting his face in shadow, and activated Eagle Vision. The world shifted instantly. Colors sharpened, and shapes became clearer. Blue auras marked civilians and neutral sailors as they went about their business. Green light flickered around a handful of figures who seemed trustworthy or at least non hostile. An old shipwright was loudly arguing prices beside a sturdy brigantine. Nearby, a young woman in a hooded cloak quietly slipped coins to a dockhand, someone who might prove useful as an informant.
Red pulsed faintly around two Marine officers near the pier, their tense body language hinting at corruption or inner conflict. A sharper crimson glow flared around a burly man in a tricorn hat standing close to the black sailed sloop. His hostile intent was unmistakable, marking him as either a pirate captain or a dangerous enforcer.
What truly caught Edward's attention was a faint golden shimmer clinging to a small and unassuming fishing boat tied at the far end of the docks. The vessel was barely large enough for three people, yet the glow suggested something valuable hidden within. It could be a Devil Fruit, a rare map, or another prize waiting to be uncovered.
The wind tugged gently at Edward's robes as he held the vision, his heart steady and his mind sharp. He scanned for any immediate threats. For now, no one had noticed him.
Edward's attention fixed on the golden shimmer at the far eastern pier. The fishing boat was small and weathered, almost lost among the larger vessels tied along the docks. From his position, it was about forty meters away, separated by open dock space crowded with crates, barrels, sailors, and the occasional Marine on patrol.
It was a perfect opportunity.
He rose smoothly from his crouch atop the warehouse roof, eyes narrowing as he judged the distance below. Directly beneath him sat a tall stack of hay bales tangled with fishing nets, piled carelessly against the wall. He did not hesitate. Stepping to the edge, he spread his arms slightly and jumped.
The wind rushed past his hood as he fell in a clean arc, his body loose and controlled, placing his trust in one of the oldest techniques of the Creed. For a brief heartbeat, time seemed to slow. Then he struck the hay with a dull, muffled thump. He rolled with the impact, bleeding off the force in a smooth tumble that ended with him crouched low behind a row of barrels, completely unseen. A dockworker nearby paused at the faint rustle, scratched his head, then shrugged and went back to loading crates.
The leap was flawless. Edward remained unharmed, his body steady and intact.
He moved along the edge of the pier like a living shadow, slipping between crates and coiled ropes, always staying out of sight. The golden shimmer drew closer with every step. The boat was a single masted dinghy, no more than twenty feet long, its patched sails neatly furled. A cramped little cabin sat near the stern, barely large enough for someone to sleep in.
A lone fisherman sat on the gunwale, focused on mending a net. He looked to be in his late forties, with tanned skin, scarred hands, and a beard crusted with salt. His aura glowed a soft blue, neutral and weary, with no hint of hostility. He had not noticed Edward's presence.
All around them, the docks carried on as usual. Distant shouts echoed between ships, wood creaked under shifting weight, and waves slapped gently against the pier.
Edward melted back into the shadows behind a stack of fish barrels, his breathing slow and controlled as he watched the fisherman with a predator's patience. The man muttered under his breath about the rising price of bait before pushing himself to his feet with a tired groan. He stretched his back, then glanced around the pier once. His eyes passed straight over Edward's hidden position without a hint of suspicion. Satisfied, the fisherman slung the half mended net over his shoulder and trudged toward a supply stall about thirty meters down the pier, quickly disappearing into a small crowd as he began haggling with the vendor.
The moment the man's back was fully turned, Edward moved.
He crossed the gap between the pier and the boat in near silence. One hand caught the gunwale, and he vaulted over smoothly, landing in a low crouch on the deck. The small vessel rocked gently beneath his weight, then settled. The golden shimmering chest sat bolted near the mast, its old teak wood reinforced with iron bands and secured by a heavy padlock. At this distance, the aura in Eagle Vision pulsed even stronger, confirming that whatever lay inside was far from ordinary cargo.
Edward's gaze swept the boat in a quick, practiced check. There were no tripwires, no alarms, and no signs of hidden crew. The tiny cabin door stood slightly ajar, revealing nothing more than a hammock and neatly stacked fishing gear. A glance back toward the pier showed the fisherman still arguing over coins at the stall, completely unaware.
Edward straightened slightly, hands poised and ready. He had a clear window.
Edward focused inward for a brief moment, calling out to the mysterious Gacha System within his mind. A faint, ethereal blue panel flickered into existence, visible to him alone, hovering in his mind's eye like a holographic interface from another world.
[Gacha System – Inventory Menu]
Unlimited Storage | No Weight Limit | Instant Access
Current Contents: Empty
His attention shifted to the small locked chest still bolted to the fishing boat's deck. The system reacted immediately, text scrolling into view without delay.
Target acquired: Wooden Chest (Locked) – Value: High (Golden Aura Detected)
Store item? Y/N
Edward confirmed without hesitation.
A soft shimmer of azure light washed over the chest for less than a second. There was no sound, no visible flash, nothing that could draw attention. The heavy box vanished entirely, bolts and all, as if it had been erased from reality itself. Only four faint scorch marks remained on the deck where it had once been secured.
Item stored successfully.
Inventory updated:
Wooden Chest (Locked) ×1
Edward lifted his gaze briefly toward the pier. The fisherman was still at the supply stall, back turned, arguing over coins and completely oblivious. Around them, the docks carried on in their usual chaos, with distant shouts, creaking wood, and the steady slap of waves. No one had noticed the disappearance.
A subtle thrill settled in Edward's chest. It was a perfect extraction, done the Creed's way. Take what was needed, leave no trace, and vanish before the world realized anything had been taken.
Edward slipped off the fishing boat as quietly as he had arrived, blending into the steady flow of dockworkers and sailors like a ghost moving in plain sight. The chest was safely stored within the Gacha System inventory, leaving him unburdened by weight or bulk and without a single trace left behind.
His Assassin instincts tugged him upward. Loguetown unfolded into a maze of alleys, balconies, and overhangs, and Edward moved through it with effortless precision. He climbed a rain gutter, vaulted a narrow gap between buildings, and pulled himself onto the slanted roof of the tallest structure nearby. The old three story clock tower loomed over the central square, its age worn into every stone. At its peak, a narrow stone ledge circled the steeple, just wide enough to sit on and overlook the execution platform, the bustling plaza below, and the harbor stretching endlessly to the east.
Edward settled onto the ledge, legs dangling freely over the edge as the wind tugged at his hooded robes. The drop below was steep, nearly fifty feet straight down to the cobblestones, but the height felt familiar, comforting even. Gulls circled overhead, their cries carried on the breeze. Far below, people moved like ants. Merchants shouting, Marines patrolling, pirates chasing dreams, all crossing paths in the town that had ignited the Great Pirate Era.
He focused inward once more, calling upon the Gacha System. The interface bloomed into view within his mind.
[Gacha System – Inventory Menu]
Wooden Chest (Locked) ×1
Retrieve item? Y/N
Edward confirmed with a thought.
A soft ripple of azure light formed in the air before him, silent and contained, invisible to anyone else. The heavy teak and iron chest materialized for a brief instant, hovering before settling gently onto the stone ledge beside him with a dull thud. In Eagle Vision, the faint golden aura still pulsed around it, quietly promising something extraordinary within.
The padlock caught the afternoon light, solid and well made, but far from indestructible. The chest itself was compact, about two feet long and a foot wide and deep, small enough to carry but clearly designed to protect its contents.
From this height, the world felt wide open. No eyes were on him, no voices reached him clearly. Against the sky, Edward was just another shadow perched above the chaos, watching as fate continued to turn below.
Edward drew a slender set of lockpicks from a hidden seam in his robes—fine steel tools honed over generations of Assassins. Kneeling beside the chest on the narrow stone ledge, he slipped the tension wrench into the padlock and began feeling the tumblers with delicate precision. The lock was high quality, but nothing beyond a master's skill. Click… click…
Five tense seconds passed. The wind was his only companion, and distant chatter from the square below drifted faintly upward. Then—snap—the mechanism yielded perfectly, the shackle popping free without a single scratch or errant scrape.
He lifted the lid carefully. Nestled within faded red velvet lay a single, bizarre fruit: fist-sized, pitch black, twisted with swirling purple veins that pulsed faintly like living shadows. The air around it hummed with latent energy—the unmistakable aura of a Devil Fruit. Edward's eyes narrowed with recognition.
This is...
To be Continued....