Sea Circle Calendar 1522
East Blue.
Deep within a dense forest, a young man with delicate features sat cross-legged in the shade, a longbow strapped across his back and a simple fur outfit draped over his shoulders.
Before him lay a small stack of old newspapers—his only window to the vast world beyond. They recorded incidents big and small happening across the great seas.
"So this really is the world of pirates… And 1522 should be the year Luffy sets sail."
The boy murmured softly. He was a transmigrant, and it had been nearly a year since he arrived.
His current name was Davy, a wandering orphan with no family name. He had once been taken in by a kindhearted hunter, who taught him how to survive until the man's passing.
"What a despairing world…"
Like countless others, Davy had grown up watching One Piece.
Back then, it was a tale of friendship and adventure—a bright, exciting dream.
But as he matured, he realized how different the real thing was. The world he once admired turned out to be nothing like the harmonious fairy tale he remembered.
Here, strength ruled all. This world overflowed with killing, looting, oppression, corruption, and decay.
Nobles, kings, even the Celestial Dragons trampled over common folk. Pirates pillaged and slaughtered as casually as breathing.
In this world, even power was determined by bloodline; ordinary people lived in what could only be described as hell.
It was the common flaw of many shōnen worlds—strength beyond human limits usually boiled down to having a good father.
Even a Celestial Dragon—lazy, gluttonous, and decadent—who never trained a day in their life, held more power than most warriors who lived with death at their doorstep.
"I have to get stronger. Danger can strike anywhere, anytime…"
Davy clenched his fists.
He stood at 1.82 meters—tall and sturdy by normal standards.
But in a world where two-meter giants could be found in random taverns, that meant very little.
"Is this really my limit?"
He had hunted relentlessly, eaten as much as he could, and pushed his body through grueling training day after day.
Even so, he was only somewhat stronger than an average human.
No cheat system.
No miraculous talent.
He didn't even receive the cliché power-up that most transmigrators got.
"I guess my only hope is a Devil Fruit…"
But where could he possibly find one?
In all of East Blue, most people had never even heard the term "Devil Fruit."
He had no money, no way to buy one, and even attempting to find one by chance required a boat to sail out—and even if he saved for half a lifetime, he probably couldn't afford a decent ship.
Just as frustration weighed on him, the forest in the distance rustled violently.
Davy instantly stood up, one hand gripping the dagger at his waist.
"Little Harry?"
Seeing the newcomer, Davy relaxed slightly.
The runny-nosed boy was the son of the bakery couple in the village at the base of the mountain.
They were a kind pair.
Ever since the old hunter who raised Davy passed away, the couple had cared for him often. Without them, Davy might not have grown up so smoothly.
Having inherited the original Davy's memories, he naturally regarded Harry like a younger brother.
"D-Davy…"
The moment Harry saw him, terror on his face twisted into raw grievance. His lips trembled, and large teardrops rolled down his cheeks.
"What happened? Did someone bully you?"
Davy crouched down and gently wiped the boy's tear-streaked face with a handkerchief.
But his comforting words did nothing.
Harry only cried harder—his tears and snot flowing uncontrollably.
"Run… We have to run… If we don't, it'll be too late… We'll die… They'll kill us…"
Harry's voice cracked as he spoke, trembling like a frightened animal. His eyes were unfocused, filled with utter panic.
Davy's heart sank.
This was not the reaction of a boy who had been bullied by other children.
"Harry—get a hold of yourself. What happened?"
"P-Pirates… pirates came… They killed people… My mom… Aunt Edith… the little girls…"
Harry clutched his throat, choking as he tried to speak.
His expression twisted in agony.
Davy's face changed instantly.
He grabbed the boy's shoulders and shouted, "Your sister and Aunt Marina—what about them?!"
Harry froze, terrified by Davy's urgency. He didn't even dare breathe loudly.
Images flashed in his mind—his mother dragged into the house, Aunt Marina forced onto the ground in the street…
And his little sister—
lifted high like some toy, her tiny body dangling in the air as those monsters laughed.
Just remembering their cruel, triumphant laughter made Harry's throat tighten until he could barely breathe.
Seeing his expression, Davy understood everything.
He released him abruptly and sprinted toward the cliff edge.
Ignoring the sharp thorns tearing at his skin, he ripped apart the obstructing branches.
His vision opened up—and what he saw made his blood run cold.
Below the mountain, flames engulfed the village.
Smoke coiled up into the sky, thick and black, staining the heavens like the anguished cries of vengeful spirits.
He could almost hear the voices carried by the wind—
Shrill laughter.
Drunken roars.
Beastlike howls.
Sobs.
Screams.
Curses dripping with hatred.
Faces flashed through his memory—smiling villagers who once welcomed him to dinner, offered him supplies, or helped mend his clothes.
They always respected his pride—turning their kindness into what seemed like equal trade.
Those people—
were screaming now.
Suffering.
Being slaughtered.
By pirates.
Davy staggered back, breath trembling.
He knew this world was dangerous, but he never expected the nightmare of pirate raids to descend on him—so suddenly, without warning, without giving him even a second to prepare.
What should he do?
Run.
Hide.
But what about the others?
What if those pirates, after looting the village, set fire to the forest as well?
"Mom and Dad told me to find you… They said to run with you… to listen to you… Please… please save me…"
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