I do not understand one thing; if you don't like MC joining Luffy and the others, then just don't read it.
And more than that, why are you even announcing your departure, this is not an airport. If you want to leave, then just leave, and stop giving me one star review after reading only two chapters.
If it was related to writing styles, wordings or something sounds like A.I., then yeah, comment on it and I'll try to fix those issues.
But if you started reading my story thinking that the MC is going to take the whole world from the get-go or build a harem for himself, then no... this is not your story.
I've created an AU universe of One-Piece world for this story with different characters with their own history and backgrounds.
Yeah, the story is following the cannon plot, but it's only because the MC is with the Strawhats, and it follows their adventures.
There are many changes that you can already see that I had made in the plot, and it is only the beginning.
This story is still in its early phase, so stop criticising it.
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I have browsed through Webnovel many times for any good fanfiction, but majority of them are either translations or just straight up smut.
I mean, what the hell!??
Can't there be any good Bleach fic or Dragon ball fic.
Sigh... truly disappointing.
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Thought of the day:
"The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions."
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Attendance Please:
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KINGDOM OF OLD TERRA (GRANDLINE)—
The Kingdom of Old Terra is a peculiar place. There is no king, no royalty, and no nobles, just ordinary people going about their daily lives: fishermen mending nets by the docks, bakers dusting flour from their aprons, and children chasing stray cats through cobblestone alleys. Plain and unremarkable.
And yet, anyone who steps onto this island immediately notices something amiss. Three different flags fly atop the tallest building in the kingdom, snapping sharply in the salt-laden wind as if daring the heavens themselves.
These are not ordinary flags.
Two of them belong to two of the Four Emperors of the Sea: Whitebeard and Red-Haired Shanks. The Jolly Roger of the Whitebeard Pirates features a grinning skull with a crescent-shaped mustache, a symbol that has caused entire armadas to turn and flee. Beside it is the Red-Haired Pirates' flag, a skull marked with three slashing scars running down the left eye, a mark worn proudly by the man who carries Roger's will.
And the third? It belongs to the Angel of Death himself, Vergil Sparda.
Now, many might ask, "Why would these three powerful men choose to fly their flags over such a small, unusual kingdom? Why would they agree to collaborate in protecting this island?"
Well, regarding Vergil and Shanks, it is no surprise to see their flags flying side by side. The two are sworn brothers who grew up with the Roger Pirates.
Whitebeard flew his flag alongside theirs for one reason: to protect everything that lives on this island.
You see, the Kingdom of Old Terra is home to the largest orphanage in the world.
It is a sprawling sanctuary of sun-bleached stone and warm wooden beams, stretched across the eastern cliffside and overlooking an endless blue horizon. Wind chimes made of sea glass sing with every breeze. Hand-painted murals cover every wall, all created by small, trembling hands learning to create rather than destroy.
Children of all ages who have been cast aside. Children with any kind of disability. Children who have no one in the world. Children who have suffered cruelty, those who flinch at raised voices and wake up screaming from nightmares they are too young to name. All are welcomed here with warm, open arms and given the chance to live a happy, meaningful life. There is no application, no screening, no questions asked. If a child arrives at the gates with nothing but the clothes on their back and tears streaking down their face, the gates open. They always open.
This is why those three powerful men raised their flags over this island: to protect these children from the world's cruelty and to provide them with a peaceful future.
No one in the world dares to think ill of this kingdom.
Not the remaining two Emperors, Kaido and Big Mom. Not the Navy. Not even the World Government, with their Five Elder Stars and God Knights, dares to lay a finger on this kingdom. They know with absolute certainty that if anything happened to those innocent children, if a single hair on a single head were harmed, then the full might of the Whitebeard Pirates, the Red-Hair Pirates, and the Royal Knights of Raya Lucaria would come for them.
No treaties. No talks. No mercy.
However, Edward Newgate, Figarland Shanks, and Vergil Sparda are not the only ones that the World Government truly fears.
Yes, facing those three would likely mean all-out war, a conflict that would split the seas and redraw the maps. However, they are still just three powerful men backed by their crews: three monsters who can be tracked, measured, and planned for.
The one person the World Government truly fears is one of their own, someone who built this orphanage from the ground up, brick by brick, with hands that had only ever known destruction until that moment.
Someone who, in every sense, is the true monster.
The one who taught monsters what fear feels like.
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A tall, fit woman with a fair complexion walked the streets of Old Terra.
She moved with an effortless grace that made people instinctively step aside, not out of fear, but with the quiet respect one might show a passing storm. She was beautiful and poised, with light eyes framed by long lashes and lips painted a deep wine-red. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, a few strands tucked behind her ear by the gentle sea breeze carrying the scent of salt and fresh bread.
She wore a navy-blue tuxedo with wide-leg trousers that flowed like water with every step, a buttoned satin-lapel blazer over a white blouse, and navy-blue high heels that clicked against the cobblestones in a rhythm the people of this kingdom had come to know well. She also wore hoop earrings that caught the afternoon sun, a pair of aviator sunglasses that concealed her eyes, and a red scarf wrapped around her neck, its end trailing behind her in the wind like a ribbon of flame.
As she strolled through the streets, her lips curved into a smile at the sight of children laughing and playing. A group of boys chased a ball, while two little girls drew on the ground with chalk, their tongues poking out in concentration. The townspeople went about their daily lives, a carpenter sanding a chair on his porch, an old woman watering flowers on her windowsill, and a young couple bickering over what to eat for lunch. Simple peace: the most precious thing in the world.
Her eyes then drifted toward a group of men in Marine uniforms carrying boxes marked with the insignia of the Academy of Raya Lucaria. The soldiers struggled under the weight, their boots scraping against the ground, sweat beading on their foreheads in the warm sun. A few paces away stood a woman with a Marine coat draped over her shoulders, the kanji for 'Justice' catching the light. She barked orders with the energy of someone given her first real responsibility and determined not to mess it up.
Spotting her, the woman in the tuxedo walked over and tapped her on the shoulder from behind.
"Now, what the hell do you idiots wa—" She spun around, her face already twisted into a scowl, her hand halfway to the sword at her hip. Then she froze. The scowl vanished. Her face went pale, then red, then pale again. "Oh, Lady Lisa! I am so sorry I didn't see you there!" The Marine officer apologized immediately, bowing so deeply her forehead nearly touched her knees.
The woman in the tuxedo, Lisa, laughed and waved her hand. "It's fine, Kirara. It looks like you're quite busy!"
The Marine officer, Kirara, rubbed the back of her head sheepishly and nodded, a shy grin breaking through her embarrassment. "Yeah, the new batch of books just arrived from the Academy. Vice-Admiral assigned me with the inspection duty." She puffed out her chest slightly when she said 'Vice-Admiral', like a student proud to be noticed by her favorite teacher.
"Oh, is that so?" Lisa said, looking at the boxes filled with books for the children at the orphanage to study, a whole world waiting to be opened by curious little hands. "By the way, where is he?"
"Vice Admiral is at the library, sorting books with Rumi-chan and the others," Kirara replied, pointing toward the largest building in the distance.
Lisa hummed softly, a knowing smile playing on her wine-red lips. She patted Kirara's shoulder, a gesture that made the Marine officer stand a little taller, a little prouder, and then walked toward the library.
When she reached the library, she saw the front entrance filled with boxes of books, stacked high like treasure waiting to be plundered. Children of all ages eagerly helped carry the boxes inside, a boy with one arm using his good shoulder to push a cart, a girl in a wheelchair directing the flow of traffic with the authority of a Fleet Admiral and twins no older than six dragging a box between them with fierce determination.
Then a tall, muscular man walked out of the library, and for just a moment, the world seemed to stand still.
He had short, spiky gray hair that defied any attempt at taming, yellow eyes like those of an apex predator, and a body so sharp and powerful it seemed as though the gods had taken their time crafting an alpha among men.
The man wore a black, short-sleeved T-shirt that clung to his body like a second skin, black pants, and a pair of simple flip-flops that slapped against the stone steps with casual indifference.
The most noticeable feature about him was the diagonal scar that ran from his right forehead, across the bridge of his nose, and ended at his left cheekbone.
Lisa licked her lips slowly and deliberately at the sight of her favorite person in the world, who had apparently ignored her completely. He picked up a box with one hand, as if it weighed nothing, and walked inside the library without so much as a glance in her direction.
"Ahhh... darling, don't ignore me like that!" she shouted, rushing into the library after him, her heels clicking an urgent beat.
The man walked to the table and set the box down with surprising gentleness for hands capable of shattering mountains.
He looked at a teenage girl standing beside the table, a list in her hand, a girl with glasses perched on her nose, dark hair tied into a practical ponytail, and an expression of patient competence far too mature for her fifteen years. "Maths," he stated simply, and the girl ticked something on the list with a crisp, efficient stroke of her pencil.
She then adjusted her glasses, the light glinting off the lenses in that way that always signaled she was about to say something clever, and looked at Lisa, who was pouting like a child behind the man.
"I think you've got company, Dad," the girl said, amused, a slight twitch at the corners of her lips.
"Nah, just ignore her," the man said flatly, without looking at Lisa. He reached for another box.
"Waahh... my hubby doesn't love me anymore!" Lisa exclaimed, clutching her chest and throwing her head back like the heroine of a tragic opera. A few of the younger children paused their work to giggle.
"We're not married, woman." The man's voice was as flat as the Calm Belt.
"What do you mean we're not married!? Just look around you, all these kids, they're ours! They are the result of our passionate love." Lisa spread her arms wide, gesturing at the dozens of children now openly watching the show, some cupping their faces in their hands with their elbows propped on boxes of books.
The man fixed her with a flat stare, the kind that had made Warlords reconsider their career choices. Lisa beamed back at him, completely unfazed.
"I think you should just accept it, Dad. Mom's love for you is truly genuine," the girl said, her voice carrying the calm wisdom of someone who had witnessed this exact exchange for years. Before she could say another word, Lisa swept her into a warm embrace.
"Oh, my sweet dear Rumi-chan, what did I ever do to deserve such a loving daughter like you?" Lisa looked down at the girl and gently cupped her face, her thumbs brushing Rumi's cheeks. "Even though you, I, and every child here are not related by blood, but my love for all of you is greater than anything in the world." She kissed Rumi's forehead with motherly tenderness, a kiss that lingered, promising protection and saying, "You are wanted, you are cherished, you are mine."
Rumi blushed, the pink spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. "I—I love you too, Mom," she stammered softly, her fingers curling into the fabric of Lisa's blazer as if to hold onto the moment.
"Are you two done?" the man cut in, his yellow eyes fixed on them with an expression that showed no signs of softening around the edges. Definitely not.
Lisa looked at him and made a booing sound, her wine-red lips pursed. "Booooo... party pooper. Can't you see that Rumi-chan and I are having our mother-daughter moment?"
The man simply shook his head at her antics, a gesture so familiar it had become second nature. "Fine, have your moment. But I am busy right now." With that, he turned to leave, his flip-flops slapping against the library floor.
"Hey, wait," Lisa's voice shifted just slightly. "I've got something important for you."
The man looked at Lisa with a raised eyebrow as she reached into her blazer, pulled out a rolled-up sheet of paper, and handed it to him.
"Remember, you asked me to look for Admiral Itadori's grandson."
The atmosphere in the library shifted.
The man hummed at her words, a low sound vibrating deep in his chest. He took the rolled paper and unrolled it, his yellow eyes scanning the contents with a predator's focus.
He stared intently at Yuji's bounty poster.
"So you're finally here, eh?" he muttered under his breath, and for just a moment, a ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his lips.
He remembered his last conversation with Wasuke, which had taken place twenty-four years earlier.
'Promise me that, when the time comes, you will guide him.'
And now, here it was. The time.
Narrator: Oh, you thought the glaze was over, did you? Nah fam, this is just the beginning. This man right here is living, breathing proof of peak conditioning, a wall of muscle that would make even the Greek gods jealous. Zeus himself looks at this man and heads to the gym.
His talent is so extraordinary that he deserves his own category, as placing him within any existing ranking system would be unfair to everyone else. He is the living embodiment of the phrase, "I understand it now." Show him a technique once, and he masters it; show him twice, and he improves upon it.
He is the second student of Monkey D Garp, after Admiral Aokiji, and Garp still cannot decide which of the two gave him more headaches. This man has hunted so many pirates and criminals during his career as a Marine that the Four Emperors and the World Government jointly bestowed upon him a title.
The Monster.
No one, and I mean no one, in the world wants to trade blows with this man because the more he fights, the stronger he becomes. It is not a technique. It is not a Devil Fruit. It is simply who he is: evolution made manifest.
This man, who possesses not a single ounce of fear, has instilled the fear of a true god in everyone. They know that if he ever turned to the dark side, if something were to break his unshakeable moral compass, you had better pray to whatever god you believe in that he ends you quickly.
Because the alternative is far worse.
This man right here is none other than the strongest man of the current era, a father to all the children in this orphanage, and a Vice Admiral of the Marines.
GAROU THE MONSTER.
And heaven help anyone who makes him angry.
With a final glance at Yuji's bounty poster, Garou rolled it up and tucked it into his pocket.
"Prepare yourself," he said, his voice carrying the weight of something unstoppable. "The time is approaching."
Hearing his words, Lisa's expression grew serious. The playful woman from moments before was gone, replaced by someone who had been waiting for this moment just as long as he had. "So, it has begun."
Outside the library window, three flags snapped in the wind, Whitebeard's skull, Shanks' scars, and Vergil's unblinking emblem. Beneath them, children laughed, played, and lived in the peace that monsters had built for them.
But even monsters know that peace is only borrowed time.
Narrator: The cycle of fate turns once more. What failed in two worlds will finally be fulfilled in the third. The old generation made their promises; the new generation will carry them forward. At the center of it all stands a boy, sailing toward a destiny he does not yet understand.
Let the games begin.
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Vergil's logo:
Raya Lucaria's Emblem:
Garou:
Lisa:
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Note: I have said it before and I will say this again, all these new characters will strictly follow One-Piece world rules, and some of my AU world rules, which I will reveal later in the story.
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Like the chapter, then please share your powerstones with me.
See you in next chapter.
Peace out...