Lucian woke to the gentle, rhythmic rocking of the sea.
The small wooden boat drifted lazily across an endless expanse of cerulean blue, the sky above so clear and bright it looked like a polished gemstone. For a few seconds, he simply lay there on the damp boards, staring upward at the passing gulls and listening to the hypnotic splash of waves against the hull.
Then, the memories of the last forty-eight hours hit him like a physical blow.
"…Dropping from a sky island," he muttered, rubbing his face with palms that still felt cold from the altitude. "Never. Again. I don't care if there's gold at the top or a goddess waiting, I am taking the stairs next time, or I'll make one to take, damn it."
It had been two days since he slipped away from the Straw Hats' celebration in Skypiea. At first, he had actually entertained the arrogant, devilish idea of just jumping. He'd imagined it vividly, falling most of the way like a shooting star, then unfurling his black wings at the last possible second to glide gracefully onto the Blue Sea like a dark angel.
In hindsight? That was absolute, bottom-tier stupidity.
Even using a proper ship to descend had been a soul-shattering experience. The moment the octopus deflated, the sensation of plummeting from the heavens, the air pressure screaming in his ears, and the clouds whipping past him at terminal velocity, had nearly made his heart stop. He had screamed the entire way down, loud, unrestrained, completely undignified screaming that would have ruined his "mysterious merchant" reputation in a heartbeat.
Thank Satan, no one had been around to witness it. He had clutched the mast of the small vessel until his fingers bled, his wings pinned uselessly against his back by the sheer force of the gale. Had he tried to pull a "Kaido" and just tank the fall with his body? He was fairly certain he'd be a dark red smear across the face of the ocean right now.
Even with the ship absorbing the brunt of the impact, his lungs had nearly burst from the panic-induced hyperventilation. When the boat finally hit the water, the spray had nearly drowned him.
"…I'm still a kid," he grumbled defensively to the empty horizon, his voice still a bit raspy. "Kids are allowed to scream when they're falling ten thousand meters. huff."
Eventually, he had ditched the wreckage of the sky-vessel and found a small, sturdy abandoned dinghy drifting near a current. Since then, he had been lazily riding the sea, allowing the waves to carry him wherever the Grand Line willed.
He had already made his decision, he wasn't returning to his own world anytime soon. There was nothing waiting for him back in the Underworld. No allies who wouldn't stab him in the back, no power base to protect him, and nothing to claim. But here? Here was a world of "Possibility." Every island was a potential market, and every legendary figure was a potential client.
And he was already significantly stronger than when he'd arrived.
The price for the information he'd given the Straw Hats had been steep, though they hadn't realized it. A copy. He had asked for "a copy of something," and through the Meta Essence, he had reached into the very fabric of their beings and taken exactly what he wanted.
From Monkey D. Luffy, he had taken a copy of the Gomu Gomu no Mi. From Nico Robin and Tony Tony Chopper, he took the same from them, their devil fruits. He had been tempted to take Robin's ability to read the Poneglyphs instead... but he reasoned that as a devil with the ability to read and speak any language he may not need it, he might decipher ancient scripts on his own. Devil Fruit abilities, however, were much more unique.
From Roronoa Zoro, he had copied his sword skills. From Sanji, he had taken the culinary mastery that could turn a shoe into a five-star meal after all he'd need to cook and eat food, and he wanted to eat nice things. From Usopp, he gained the supernatural pinpoint accuracy that the liar had.
And from Nami... he had taken her navigation expertise.
Right now, he was actively using that last one. Without Nami's near-supernatural instincts for reading currents, predicting atmospheric pressure, and understanding the erratic behavior of the sea, he would die within a week. The Grand Line didn't forgive amateurs, but with Nami's "eyes," he could see the invisible paths through the waves.
Knowledge was power. And power, when properly priced and packaged, was profit.
Lucian sat up and pulled out several sheets of paper he'd "acquired" from the Skypea. Carefully, using a charcoal stick, he began drawing a summoning circle.
It really wasn't a real summoning circle, low class devils didn't know how to do that, and he was never thought, but he didn't really need it to be an actual summoning, no. What he just needed was for people to know that they can summon him as long as they knew him and wished to make a deal.
The Essence of the Merchant functioned on awareness. It allowed him to be summoned by those who knowingly and desperately called for him. But people couldn't call for a "Lucian" if they didn't know he existed.
This... was marketing. Branding.
He wrote instructions on the back. He added warnings about the cost of deals and the nature of the "Devil" who would answer. He made it sound ominous, tempting, and inevitable. He folded the papers into neat squares and tucked them into the inner lining of his coat. Once he reached a populated landmass, he'd distribute them quietly. Humans didn't need much encouragement to seek out forbidden shortcuts, even the most content man always had a shadow of greed in his heart, he'd know he had been human before after all.
With the flyers finished, he returned to his daily regimen, Observation Haki training.
Without a teacher like Rayleigh, it was a frustrating process of trial and error. Still, something inside his devil soul responded to the effort. He had spent his earlier years learning how to manipulate his mana and have control over his magic. It was something he spent hours working on back when he was trying to learn how to survive, and that gave him a slight advantage now.
The sensation of Haki was strikingly similar to mana in him, but also different that he could easily feel the difference.
He closed his eyes, centering his breathing until the sound of his own heart matched the pulse of the ocean.
He felt it. Like faint, electric bubbling under his skin.
He drew the sensation forward, pushing it out like an invisible ripple. He tried to "see" without his eyes.
He felt the wind brushing against the sail. He felt the old, creaking wood of the dinghy beneath his boots. He felt the steady, massive pulse of the waves stretching for miles. He even felt the subtle hum of small schools of fish darting a few meters below the surface—
And then, his eyes snapped open.
Cold, prickling sweat poured down his back in an instant. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Someone was watching him.
He spun around, scanning the 360-degree horizon. Nothing. No ships on the distant line, no birds in the sky, no shadows lurking in the water. But the feeling remained for a few seconds before it faded away.
He leaned over the side of the boat and splashed cold seawater on his face, trying to wash away the phantom sensation. But in his mind's eye, a lingering image remained from the split second his Haki had touched the "Observer," if that's what it could be described as.
Wide, pitch-black eyes. Too wide to be human. Too still to be a simple animal. And deep within those dark voids, he had seen a faint, pulsating crimson glimmer. And that pressure, it was something far more unnerving than a simple animal.
Curiosity. He had also felt curiosity.
"…What the hell was that?" he whispered, his hand trembling as he gripped the side of the boat.
Whatever it was, it didn't feel like a person. It felt like nothing he'd felt before, like he was nothing but a rat it had taken interest in and wanted to catch, whatever it was, Lucian knew he didnt want its gaze on him anytime soon.
He decided immediately, Observation training was over for the day. His nerves couldn't take another "look" into that abyss.
Fortunately, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, and ahead, the silhouette of an island finally broke the monotony of the sea.
The island was small, lit by the warm, flickering glow of lanterns as dusk settled over a modest fishing village. He made landfall at a quiet dock without any issues. The sign at the pier identified the place as "Manju Island."
The villagers were friendly but cautious, as most small-town folk are when a lone boy with mismatched eyes and an expensive coat drifts in from the open ocean. However, gold solved most suspicions. He exchanged a small gold nugget for a room at the local inn and a fresh Log Pose.
He decided to stay for two days. He needed to rest his mind after the Sky Island trauma, whatever had been watching him, and test his marketing materials.
That night, when the village had fallen into the deep silence of sleep, Lucian moved.
He was a shadow among shadows. Silently, he slipped his flyers beneath the doors of houses. He pinned them to the tavern's. He tucked them into crates of outgoing fish and made sure to just get them everywhere.
He didn't expect a miracle. The villagers seemed content with their simple lives. But contentment and "want" were two different things. Human greed was a constant he could bet his life on, no matter the reality.
He was proven right.
The very next night, as he sat in his room, he felt it. A pull, someone was calling him. Someone had read the paper, followed the instructions, and truly wanted a deal.
His body vanishes from the inn room.
He reappeared behind a young man in a dimly lit, dusty storage room at the edge of the village.
"Hello," Lucian said pleasantly, his voice smooth and welcoming.
The man jumped violently, knocking over a stack of crates and spinning around with a gasp. "Holy—! It worked! It actually worked! The paper said... it said a demon would come!"
Then, the man squinted, his fear momentarily overtaken by confusion as he looked at Lucian's small stature. "…Wait a minute. You're just a kid. Is this a joke? Where's the demon?"
Lucian sighed.
The air in the room suddenly shifted. The light from the single candle died, replaced by a suffocating, violet pressure. Lucian's aura unfurled like a physical weight.
Though he was merely a mid-class devil, to an ordinary human with no spiritual defense, he might as well have been the herald of the end times.
His eyes ignited, silver and crimson glowing in the darkness. The temperature in the room plummeted until the man's breath misted in the air.
The young man dropped to his knees instantly, his lungs seizing as he choked on the sheer aura. He trembled so hard his teeth rattled, sweat pouring down a face that had turned ghostly pale.
Every instinct he had was screaming that a "God" or a "Monster" was standing before him.
After five seconds of agonizing pressure, Lucian retracted the aura. The warmth returned. The candle flickered back to life.
Lucian smiled brightly, looking as innocent as a choirboy. "My name is Lucian," he said cheerfully, as though he hadn't just crushed the man's spirit. "And you, my friend, have summoned me for a deal… have you not?"
The young man looked up, his eyes wide and terrified. He was shaking, yes, but beneath the fear, Lucian could see it, that familiar, ugly flicker of hunger.
Lucian's smile widened.
———————————————————
If you want to read ahead and access 10 advanced chapters, check the patreon. $4 Dollars
Link:patreon/Phantomking785