A Slave's Beginning
Reading the panel in front of him, Yang Ning grinned so broadly his eyes nearly disappeared.
With a setup like this, it was hard to imagine how he could possibly lose. Even without technique, even without training—given enough time, he would become a monster.
But his smile stiffened the moment he noticed the problem:
Every skill on the panel was grayed out.
Completely unusable.
He knew this state well—it was identical to being Level 1 in League, before learning any abilities.
"…Seriously? You expect me to level up here?"
"How am I supposed to do that? I've got nothing!"
He let out a defeated groan. At least the passive worked without needing activation, so for now, he had to rely on that alone.
Yang Ning stepped off the warm beach and headed inland.
First priority: confirm whether this was the One Piece world or just some primitive island.
A dense stretch of jungle greeted him. He tore off several large leaves and awkwardly wrapped them around his waist—barely presentable, but better than running around naked.
He was about to continue when he heard something faint—muffled cries, overlapping voices, panic.
He froze, listening carefully.
That was unmistakably a plea for help… from men, women, even children.
Following the sound, he spotted several pillars of black smoke rising into the sky.
A burning village.
"…Pirates?"
His heart tightened with both fear and excitement.
He had watched One Piece for years—but seeing the real thing was another matter entirely.
Instead of retreating, he crept closer.
But before he reached the forest edge—
Bang!
Something whistled past his cheek, fast and deadly. It smashed into the tree behind him, splintering the wood and leaving a smear of his blood.
"A… gunshot?"
Cold dread washed over him.
One Piece firearms may be crude, but they were very real—and very lethal.
The moment the pain stung his cheek, all romantic fantasies vanished.
This wasn't manga. This wasn't cosplay.
Here, if you died… you died.
He dropped flat onto the ground, scrambling behind some sparse shrubs for cover.
But luck wasn't on his side.
Within seconds, a barrage of footsteps rushed toward him.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Anyone with eyes would see him lying there like a terrified boar.
Resigned, he sprang up and ran without looking back.
And ironically—his cowardly flight became a beacon.
The panicked villagers spotted him and immediately followed, yelling for others to join.
From above, it would look like a human arrowhead—Yang Ning at the front, with three or four groups of villagers trailing behind in blind desperation.
The island was small, and Yang Ning's physical fitness was average at best.
In minutes, his lungs burned and his legs felt like jelly.
The villagers fared no better.
They were driven toward a steep slope—and there, blocking their escape, stood a dozen pirates.
"Trying to run? I'll carve you up!"
A filthy pirate stepped forward, panting, fury twisting his face. Without hesitation, he plunged his machete into a nearby villager.
A clean thrust in, a bloody pull out.
The crowd shrieked and huddled together, trembling violently. Those who had tried resisting earlier were already lying dead among the bodies.
Yang Ning, trapped at the very front of the fleeing crowd, got pushed to the very back. He barely saw anything beyond backs and bodies crushing against him—
—until a faint green wisp drifted through the air, slipped past the villagers, and sank straight into his chest.
[Ability Power: 0 → 1]
[Armor: 3 → 4]
[Hellish Curse (1): A soul has been collected.]
So this was Thresh's passive in real life.
He didn't even see the death that triggered it.
But the boost did nothing for his situation.
The filthy pirate scanned the crowd, licking his thin lips with a long, triangular tongue, ready to pick the next victim.
Before he could, a more composed pirate stepped in.
"That's enough. Any fewer and the captain will complain. Round them up."
With a spit and a curse, the thug sheathed his blade.
The pirates tied up all surviving villagers—Yang Ning included—using vines and rope, then herded them back through the forest like cattle.
When they reached the town outskirts, the sight hit Yang Ning like a hammer.
And then—
More than a dozen green motes streaked through the air like tiny meteors and slammed into him one by one.
[Ability Power: 1 → 16]
[Armor: 4 → 19]
[Hellish Curse (16): Souls harvested.]
His mind sharpened instantly.
The armor bonus felt like an invisible, thin metal shell clinging to his skin.
But when he finally lifted his head—
The brutality of the scene stole the breath from his lungs.
Houses burned.
Corpses lay scattered like discarded dolls.
Blood painted the ground and walls.
Women wept silently, trembling.
Children hid behind lifeless bodies.
Watching anime could never prepare someone for this.
He grew up in peace—this sight hollowed him to the core.
By the time he came back to his senses, the pirates had dragged him along with the others to a cargo pile at the edge of the village. Villagers were forced at knifepoint to carry their own belongings onto a pirate ship.
Sitting on a crate was their captain—a dark-skinned man in a tattered black-and-red coat, one arm wrapped around a terrified woman, the other resting on a long sword.
"Captain, we brought back the escapees."
The cold-faced pirate bowed deeply, showing off his haul.
The captain grinned, gold teeth flashing.
"Well done. Once we sell this batch, I'll take you lot to the Golden Ship. Drinks on me."
The pirates erupted in cheers.
Yang Ning and the villagers were shoved onto the ship.
The hatch slammed shut above him.
Bang.
Darkness.
Yang Ning exhaled miserably.
So many protagonists in this world started as prodigies, future Admirals, or pirate legends…
But him?
His journey began in the worst way possible—
as human cargo.