Sea Circle Calendar, Year 1484.
A summer island basked under the warm sun. Gentle sea breeze brushed across the beach where Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp lay sprawled out, sunbathing with a grin that could outshine the sky.
Purururu…
The Den Den Mushi crackled to life.
From the receiver, the urgent voice of Steel Bone Kong, the current Fleet Admiral of the Marines, barked through:
"Garp! The Rocks Pirates are launching an attack on God Valley!"
Garp didn't even flinch. He was still on vacation—and frankly, this didn't surprise him. He'd already seen this coming.
About a week ago, the Celestial Dragons had decided to hold their grotesque triennial Native-Hunting Game.
Their chosen "playground" this year: God Valley, a kingdom that had refused to pay the Heavenly Tribute.
It was said the God Knights and the Marines had seized six powerful Devil Fruits—to be flaunted as prizes while Rocks' main force was away raiding. Did anyone really think Rocks D. Xebec would let that slide? Not a chance. He'd storm God Valley and take back what was his.
Kong knew Garp didn't give a damn about protecting the Celestial Dragons, so he threw in bait.
"Oh, and Garp—Roger is heading there too!"
"Huh?!"
Garp's eyes almost popped out of his head.
"That rascal Roger's on the move again?!"
That did it. The man leapt to his feet in an instant.
"Bogard! Vacation's over!"
Even while off duty, Bogard—ever sharp in his tailored suit and dark sunglasses—stood up without hesitation.
A week earlier — New World.
The chaotic center of the Rocks Era: Hachinosu, the Pirate Paradise.
The Rocks Grand Fleet had returned triumphant from their latest campaign—but no one looked pleased. They'd won the battle, sure… but their home had been robbed in the meantime. Even the mightiest pirate crew in history couldn't take that lying down. Many rookie and apprentice pirates had died in the chaos.
At a corner of Rocks Port, a scrawny young pirate clawed his way out of the sand.
Sharn gasped for breath, bloodied but alive. His wounds were closing at an impossible speed, even the bullet hole in his chest spitting out its shell casing with a soft clink.
He stared, dazed. The beach didn't match anything he remembered. At the center of the island loomed an enormous skull-shaped mountain.
Recognition hit him like lightning.
"This… this is Hachinosu!"
It was identical to the Pirate Paradise he'd seen in the One Piece manga he'd read since childhood—only this was real, more vivid than any live-action adaptation could ever hope to be.
Sharn glanced down at his hand—still clutching a compass. A vacation souvenir, just a normal compass… or so he'd thought. On the back was a carved skull framed by the silhouette of a laughing demon. The front looked ordinary—just a simple pointer.
Blood dripped onto the metal. The compass began to hum.
[Ding!]
[Demon Compass verification complete.]
[Registered Owner: Rona D. Sharn]
[Age: 15]
[Origin: West Blue]
[This compass can be hidden or summoned at will after verification.]
[Cannot be transferred. Only usable by its owner.]
[Demon Prologue visible to owner only.]
"Demon Prologue…?"
Before his eyes, glowing text appeared, floating in midair.
[The Demon Compass manifests at the turning points of its owner's fate, offering choices and granting rewards.]
[Owner revived from death—Fate Point triggered.]
[Choice 1: Devour the memories and skills of the original body's owner, Sharn—Reward: Double memory retention, double comprehension, double soul strength, double physical strength, double proficiency in all original skills.]
[Choice 2: Reject the memories and start anew—Reward: 'Courageous Heart: Begin from Zero.']
Sharn hesitated—then chose Courageous Heart. He wasn't about to become some kind of soul-eating monster.
But the compass spun wildly—his vision surged—
and his consciousness merged with the original soul anyway.
In an instant, memories, instincts, and muscle memory flooded his mind. The former Sharn barely knew his own family name—only that there was a mysterious "D." in it. Now, that name carried weight.
The new Sharn possessed fragments of gunmanship, swordsmanship, and rudimentary combat—but poor physical control. That changed in a breath. His entire body evolved; muscles hardened, reflexes sharpened, and even the weakest of his skills doubled in mastery. By sheer instinct, his combat power now rivaled five times what it had been before.
"The captain's back!"
"We can finally get revenge—make those Marines and Celestial Dragons pay!"
"Move the bodies! We lost a lot of new recruits this time!"
"Hey, rookie! You're alive, huh? Then quit sitting around and start hauling corpses!"
The main fleet had returned. The island buzzed with cruel celebration. Of course, that joy didn't extend to newcomers like Sharn. He was shoved toward the harbor to move the dead.
The compass thrummed again.
[Choice completed.]
[New Fate Point detected—new choices available.]
[Choice 1: Refuse to move corpses. On Hachinosu, strength rules all. Endure one night's hostility—Reward: Shigan (Finger Pistol) (Shigan), rookie-level Rokushiki.]
[Choice 2: Obey and continue working. Keep faith that one day you'll rise—Reward: Boosted Confidence.]
[Choice 3: Flee by diving into the sea. Reject the pirate's path—Reward: Double proficiency in swimming and diving.]
Sharn snorted. "Like hell I'm wasting time with the other two."
He selected the first option.
A large pirate loomed over him—tall, scarred, and sneering, a curved blade slung over his shoulder. From the original Sharn's memories, this was Doron, a veteran swordsman with a bounty over ten million Berries—famous for bullying rookies.
"You're small, kid. Eat more, get some sun. You'll never catch up to the monsters around here otherwise."
Sharn rolled his shoulders, feeling out the new power wired through his frame. Around them, other rookies hauled corpses and dumped them into the sea.
When Doron saw Sharn standing idle, he drew his blade without hesitation. On Hachinosu, there was no room for words—only action.
Swish!
Sharn moved on instinct, sliding a half-step aside. The blade hissed past.
"I refuse," he said, voice flat.
[Choice completed.]
Energy snapped through his tendons; his fingers tingled as if channeling an invisible gun.
His body knew what to do.
"Shigan!"
He jabbed forward. The air cracked. Doron staggered, chest caved in. Before the man could react, a second thrust punched clean through his throat.
Blood misted across the sand.
"Move the bodies," Sharn ordered calmly as he stepped over Doron's corpse.
The rookies stared in silent terror, then rushed to obey.
On Hachinosu, this was the law: only the strong have the right to live.
The Paradise belonged to the powerful.
And far out in the harbor, the Rocks Pirates' massive flag fluttered in the wind—the skull of chaos that would one day shake the world.
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