"Hands up! This is a robbery! I'm the captain of the Brain-Brain Pirates! Men stand to the left, women to the right, and anyone who's neither stand in the middle! Hand it all over!"
The salty tang of sea wind mixed with the sharp stench of gunpowder, filling Riberra Sami's nostrils.
At that moment, he sat blankly at the bow of the ship, staring at the chaotic scene of desperate combat unfolding before him. It felt as though a play was being performed—one that had nothing to do with him.
A sailor locked in combat with an enemy happened to notice this seemingly defenseless fool.
"Perfect chance!"
With a ferocious grin, the sailor knocked his opponent aside with a slash and rushed forward. His curved blade whistled through the air as it came down toward Sami's left shoulder.
Sami reacted almost entirely on instinct.
He dropped backward, his back slamming against the deck.
At the same time, his foot snapped out and struck the attacker's knife-wielding right hand, sending the weapon flying.
"You really picked the wrong opponent."
A faint smile curled at Sami's lips.
In the next instant, under the attacker's horrified gaze, Sami sprang up in a smooth kip-up, leaping into the air and catching the spinning blade.
He landed heavily.
His tall frame cast a shadow over the sailor as his eyes locked onto him.
The sailor's grin froze.
Those cold eyes sweeping over him made it feel as though he were being stared down by a Sea King. His legs began trembling uncontrollably.
"M… Monster!"
Sami didn't give him another chance.
His leg shot forward in a swift front kick, striking the man square in the chest.
Boom!
With a dull thud, the sailor flew backward like a kite with its string cut, smashing against the base of the mast before collapsing unconscious.
Sami weighed the captured blade in his hand. His gaze sharpened as he finally stepped into the fray.
Every time Sami blocked an attack, the impact numbed his opponent's arms. One swing from him was usually enough to knock a weapon from someone's grip or send them staggering to the ground.
Steel flashed again and again.
One enemy after another fell with cries of pain—some knocked unconscious by the flat of his blade, others left with broken ribs from his kicks, all losing the ability to fight.
Sami charged through them like a tiger among sheep.
Wherever he went, resistance collapsed instantly.
Before long, even the last minor leader was knocked flat by the back of his blade and pinned to the ground by several sailors.
The battle was over.
"Quick! Tie them all up! Check if any of them are pretending to be dead!"
No orders from Sami were needed. The experienced sailors had already begun clearing the battlefield, binding unconscious and surrendered enemies tightly with thick ropes.
Sami returned to the bow.
A sailor who looked like an officer stepped forward respectfully and reported,
"Captain, we've searched every corner of this Octopus Gang ship. It's been completely cleaned out!"
Sami nodded.
"Lock all the Octopus Gang prisoners in the hold. As for the treasure…"
He paused, his eyes sweeping across the crew members who were obviously listening with perked-up ears.
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Same old rule. Bring everything onto our deck first. I'll handle the distribution."
"OOOOOOOH—!!!"
"Captain Sami, long live!!!"
Sami watched the twisted faces of the men before him, excited by plunder and bloodshed.
His thoughts drifted far away.
One year ago, his name had still been Li Wei, an utterly ordinary high school student.
He had simply encountered what he jokingly called a "gold-medal guide to transmigration" while walking to school.
When he woke up again, he found himself lying on a beach.
Not only was the body no longer his own—the world itself had completely changed.
It wasn't until he found several torn wanted posters scattered on the sand, with the faint words "DEAD OR ALIVE" still visible, that he finally realized the truth.
He had transmigrated into the world of One Piece.
Following the signs of human activity, he made his way to a nearby town.
The people there seemed to recognize his face. They called him Riberra Sami.
From fragments of conversations, he pieced together the original owner's life story.
The former Sami had been a textbook nobody.
No parents.
No partner.
No job.
A complete drifter.
Fine. A drifter it is. At least I need to survive first.
That had been his thinking at the time—mainly because his stomach was already growling with hunger.
To make a living, Sami started looking for work.
But the reputation left behind by the previous owner had already ruined his name. The only jobs available were the lowest of menial labor.
He found work at the docks unloading cargo.
After an entire day under the scorching sun—his shoulders rubbed raw with bloody blisters—he finally earned a few crumpled hundred Beli.
Clutching the money, he was just starting to feel relieved that he could finally buy something to eat.
Then several burly men with snake tattoos wandered over and blocked his path.
"Kid, you new here? Don't you know the rules? This dock belongs to the Poison Snake Gang."
The scar-faced leader held out his hand.
The meaning couldn't have been clearer.
Li Wei—now Sami—instinctively clenched the money tighter.
This was the sweat and blood of his entire day.
"Th-this is what I earned…"
Smack!
A loud slap exploded across his face, sending his vision spinning.
Before he could even react, a heavy punch slammed into his stomach, knocking the air out of him as he curled up on the ground.
"Earned it? The fact that I let you earn money here is the rule!"
The scar-faced man stepped on Sami's hand—the one clutching the money—and ground it down. One by one, he pried open Sami's fingers and took the Beli.
Around them, the dock workers hurriedly looked away and quickened their pace.
Only faint snickers and pointing fingers remained.
Humiliation.
Pain.
But what he felt most strongly was something else—a raw brutality he had never experienced in the peaceful modern world.
His entire body trembled.
He thought of the Marines—the symbol of justice in the manga.
Enduring the pain, he ran to the Marine base in town and stammered out how he had been robbed and beaten.
The Marine guard listened impatiently before letting out a scornful laugh.
"Poison Snake Gang? They maintain order at the docks. What's wrong with collecting a little management fee? Get lost. Don't block the way."
The soldier shoved him aside—and even kicked him twice for good measure—sending him tumbling down the steps.
Sami fell into the dirt.
Before he could even get up, a shadow loomed over him.
The scar-faced man and his thugs were leaning against the outer wall of the Marine base, cigarettes hanging from their mouths, watching him with amused smiles.
"Well, look at that. Kid's got guts—running to the Marines?"
The scar-faced man crouched down and slapped Sami's cheek lightly.
"Don't you know? We and the gentlemen inside are basically family. You're just giving me a good laugh!"
The punches and kicks rained down again.
Harder.
Longer.
All Sami could do was curl up and cover his head, the taste of blood filling his mouth.
When it was finally over, a few globs of spit landed on him before the gang swaggered away.
In the days that followed, such bullying became routine.
He tried hiding.
He tried changing jobs.
But the Poison Snake Gang's influence was everywhere.
Most of what he earned was taken.
Beatings came at the slightest excuse.
His dignity was crushed into the mud.
The soul that had come from the modern world was slowly soaked through by cold hatred amid endless despair and anger.
"If this world has no reason… no justice…"
He stared at his bruised reflection in the water.
The last trace of warmth vanished from his eyes.
He stopped merely enduring.
Instead, he began putting the theoretical knowledge he had accumulated from years of watching anime into practice.
Ambushes.
Traps.
Human weak points.
Psychological intimidation.
He carefully observed the shift schedules at one of the Poison Snake Gang's hideouts, memorizing the faces and habits of every thug.
He gathered discarded nails and broken glass.
Using scraps of cloth and half a can of lamp oil he had picked up, he made crude weapons.
The night of revenge arrived.
Like a shadow, he slipped into the hideout.
Using darkness and confusion, he brought down two isolated guards with traps and sneak attacks.
But there were more people inside than he had expected.
The commotion quickly drew a crowd.
He fought while retreating, accumulating several wounds before crashing into three ragged men around a corridor corner.
"Don't kill us!"
One older man raised his hands, trembling.
Their bodies were covered in bruises, their eyes full of fear.
"Please help us… We were harmed by them too!"
They had seen Sami storm the Poison Snake hideout alone with ruthless determination and begged for his help.
Sami panted heavily.
"Help you? I can barely save myself right now. If you want to live, pick up a weapon! Either way we might die—better to take a few bastards with us than kneel and beg!"
Perhaps his words ignited the last spark of courage in them.
Or perhaps the hatred they had suppressed toward the Poison Snake Gang finally exploded.
They grabbed whatever they could—wooden sticks, broken bottles—and followed behind Sami.
The four of them fought and retreated through the labyrinthine hideout, desperately searching for an exit.
But the gang had already been fully alerted.
Shouts and footsteps closed in from every direction.
"This way! Hurry!"
With no escape left, they burst through a half-open heavy wooden door and slammed it shut behind them, bracing it with their bodies and dropping the bolt.
Immediately, furious banging and curses erupted outside.
They were safe—for the moment.
But also completely trapped.
The four men leaned against the door, gasping for air as sweat mixed with blood and grime.
Only then, by the faint moonlight filtering through a ventilation window, did they see their surroundings clearly.
This wasn't an ordinary storage room.
Crates were stacked everywhere.
Some had been opened, revealing the glitter of gold coins and jewels.
Fine weapons and decorative items hung on the walls.
This was the Poison Snake Gang's treasure storage room.
"So much money…"
One companion stared blankly at the treasure before his eyes dimmed again.
What was the point?
They couldn't even get out.
"Stop staring! Look for weapons we can use! Guns! Swords! Anything!"
Sami searched quickly despite the pain.
He kicked open several chests—mostly silverware and cloth.
He pulled open a drawer.
Nothing.
His gaze swept the room anxiously until it landed on an elegant wooden box sitting alone in a corner.
He rushed over and opened it.
Inside, resting on dark velvet, was not a gun or blade.
Instead, there lay a strange fruit.
It was covered in spiral patterns, entirely pink, and shaped somewhat like a pomegranate.
It looked slightly shriveled, not particularly fresh—but the bizarre texture and color seemed almost alive under the moonlight.
A Devil Fruit.
With such a unique appearance, it definitely couldn't be the Human-Human Fruit.
But what power did it contain?
Unknown.
Eating it would make him unable to swim.
BANG! BANG! CRACK!
The door bolt groaned under pressure as cracks spread across the wooden door.
His companions cried out in despair, desperately trying to reinforce the barricade.
There was no time left.
Unknown power—the only thing that might break this deadlock.
Wait for death…
Or gamble everything?
Madness flashed through Sami's eyes.
Grabbing the pink fruit, he faced the cracking door and the shadowy enemies beyond it and roared with all his strength:
"Poison Snake Gang… You want my life? Then let's see who goes to hell first!"
He opened his mouth and bit down hard.
The moment the flesh entered his mouth, a horrific taste exploded across his tongue—like every foul stench in the world combined.
His stomach twisted violently. He nearly vomited instantly.
But he clamped a hand over his mouth and forced himself to swallow.
One bite.
Then another.
"BOOM—!"
A blazing, bizarre power erupted deep inside his body, surging through his veins and nerves like something alive.
At that exact moment—
The warehouse door burst open.
Savage thugs carrying blades, axes, and torches poured inside.
"Found them! Kill—"
The words stopped abruptly.
Every single man who rushed in stared toward the center of the room in horror.
There, Riberra Sami's body was undergoing a terrifying transformation.
His skin became semi-transparent.
The outline of his body seemed to ripple faintly.
A sticky, viscous liquid dripped continuously from his fingertips.
Even stranger—his eyes reflected a faint glow like those of deep-sea creatures in the darkness.
"M-MONSTER!!!"
Screams of terror echoed through the warehouse.
Sami slowly raised his mutating arm, feeling the surging newborn power within his body.
Looking at the faces that had once brought him endless humiliation, he curled his lips into a smile devoid of warmth.
…
No one knew exactly what happened in that warehouse that night.
The next morning, when nearby residents noticed something was wrong, the hideout had fallen completely silent.
Inside and outside the warehouse lay the bodies of every pursuer.
None bore obvious wounds from blades.
Yet their deaths were grotesquely unnatural.
Their eyes were wide open and bloodshot.
Their faces twisted in unimaginable agony.
Their lips and fingernails had turned a dark, ominous purple.
Their muscles were locked in unnatural spasms, as though they had endured indescribable torment at the moment of death.
As for Riberra Sami and the three survivors—
Along with part of the treasure and a small ship—
They had vanished without a trace.
The news spread quietly, mixed with fear and confusion.
No one cared where that insignificant drifter had gone.
They only knew that one Poison Snake Gang hideout had been wiped out in a bizarre and terrifying way.
From that day onward, Riberra Sami was truly born.
With his first followers, he sailed the stolen ship into the vast West Blue.
As for now—
Sami pulled his drifting thoughts back and looked at the pirate flag flying from the bow of his ship.
A skull with crossed curved blades.
Yes.
They had become pirates.