The island lay behind her, quiet and still under the morning sun. Golden light spilled over cliffs, trees, and quiet pools, but Maris' gaze was fixed on the horizon—the endless, rolling expanse of the East Blue.
For the first time, leaving this place no longer felt like a threat. It felt like a calling.
Maris stood barefoot on the shore, the wind tugging at her hair, the faint green pulse of her Dryad Zoan power responding to the breeze. The System hummed softly in her mind, a constant companion now.
"Recommended: Begin exploration beyond island perimeter. Potential for first encounter with pirates or Marines: moderate," it announced.
She adjusted the small satchel on her shoulder, which carried her notebook, a few provisions, and the miniature cutlass left by her mother—a reminder of her origins and promise.
One last glance at the dense jungle revealed the animals she had grown up with. Birds, monkeys, and small creatures watched silently. They understood. Today, the child of the hidden island would step into the world.
A faint rumble of the sea drew her attention. On the horizon, a small fishing boat struggled against the tide. A wiry man scrambled to untangle a net full of fish.
Maris crouched behind a rock, observing. The System's voice was calm, precise:
"First human detected. Level: Average. Threat: Minimal. Observation recommended for skill calibration."
Perfect, she thought. A simple test before venturing further.
Her Observation Haki flared gently, integrated with the System. Every movement, every subtle shift of the man's weight, every predicted reaction became clear.
When he stumbled, she tested her Dryad powers. A controlled gust of wind nudged the net, sending him sprawling. He blinked, bewildered, and Maris smiled faintly. Observation successful.
"Calibration complete. Human behavior logged. Prediction accuracy: 87%. Recommended: increase environmental variables for next test," the System noted.
Before she could continue, a larger ship appeared—a black-and-red pirate vessel. Her pulse quickened. Pirates.
Three pirates climbed the rocks, weapons drawn. One, taller than the others with a jagged scar, led them. Confident but sloppy—the perfect test for her abilities.
The System activated:
"Enemies detected: 3 individuals. Combat level: Low-Moderate. Observation Haki activated. Suggested action: non-lethal immobilization for analysis and skill calibration."
Maris moved like a shadow. When the leader swung his cutlass, she sidestepped effortlessly. Tiny leaves flickered along her arms, subtle but alive.
One pirate raised a pistol. She predicted the angle and nudged the barrel with a controlled gust. It clattered harmlessly to the ground. Another pirate tried to flank her; she shifted a loose rock under him, sending him sprawling.
All three froze, bewildered. They had never seen someone move like this—or anticipate their every action.
"I'm not here to fight," Maris said, voice calm but firm. "I just want to observe."
The pirates hesitated, then lowered their weapons. Without another word, Maris melted into the mist along the shoreline, leaving them unsettled and mystified.
The System confirmed in her mind:"First real-world combat observation complete. Human behavior logged. Prediction accuracy: 96%. Tactical advantage confirmed."
Maris made her way to a small, hidden inlet. Smoke and voices drifted from a nearby port village—quiet, unmarked on most maps. Her System cataloged every detail: villagers' routines, dock layouts, guard rotations.
She noticed individuals who stood out—skilled, agile, confident. Potential allies. One day, they could fight beside her, explore the seas with her, and become part of something greater.
Maris took a deep breath, letting the wind tug at her hair, carrying the salt and freedom of the open sea. The hidden island was behind her. The world beyond—full of danger, adventure, and opportunity—stretched ahead.
Maris D. Luna, child of sea and moon, had left the island not just to survive, but to grow, learn, and build.
And somewhere in the East Blue, the first steps toward the Gale Serpents Pirates were quietly beginning.
The first step had been taken. The seas would soon hear her name.