17 days later.
So, yeah. Seventeen days.
That's how long I've been stuck in the world of One Piece.
You'd think, after all the hype about pirates, sea kings, and devil fruits, I'd have seen something epic by now. Nope.
My grand adventures so far? One sea monster (which, okay, was terrifying) and a village so ordinary it made the parking lot look like a theme park.
Oh, and let's not forget the fashion statement I've been rocking: a pair of metal bracelets connected by a chain.
Not your standard handcuffs, mind you. These were more like oversized, clunky bracelets that jingled every time I moved. And trust me, that jingling. It's the soundtrack of my misery.
The chain gave me about 15-20 centimeters of freedom between my hands, which is just enough to make you feel like you're not completely trapped but also not enough to do anything useful. Like, say, escape.
Also, my living situation hasn't exactly been five stars. My so-called room was basically a storage closet, the kind of place where you'd expect to find dusty old fishing nets and forgotten junk—not an actual human being. The only window had been boarded up so thoroughly you'd think they were bracing for the zombie apocalypse. If I wanted to leave, I had to call for an escort, like I was some kind of VIP prisoner.
And then there was Hana's mom. Oh, boy. I finally met her, and let's just say… I wish I hadn't.
See, I'd found this old photograph in a grimy drawer—one of those faded, curled-at-the-edges types. In it, a stunning blonde stood next to a man who looked eerily like Joe, except he had a pink beard. I was convinced this was young Joe, and naturally, I had expectations.
Big mistake.
Imagine the crankiest, most overbearing aunt you've ever met—the kind who smells like boiled cabbage and glares like she's personally offended by your existence. Now take that image and crank it up to ten.
Joe, bless his sea-worn soul, must have the patience of a saint to put up with her. If I were him, I'd have jumped ship—literally—years ago.
The only bright spots in this whole mess? Hana and Joe. Hana's still her prickly self, but she's softened up a bit. And Joe? He's the kind of guy who'd give you a heart-to-heart talk over a drink, but only after he's made sure you can handle his no-nonsense attitude. He's tough, gruff, and doesn't sugarcoat anything, but there's a weird kind of comfort in that.
The only times I got to interact with them were during meals or when they needed me to do chores. Cleaning, moving stuff, fixing things—basically, I've become the village handyman. Not exactly the glamorous life I imagined when I thought about being isekai'd, but hey, it beats being eaten by a sea serpent.
Oh, I almost forgot. The boy, I've only seen him twice. He lives with his mother.
But the real highlight of my days is training with Satoru in my inner world. Yeah, sure, sometimes I wished I could just die and get it over with—like when he sicced a pack of shadow wolves on me or made me run through an obstacle course that felt like a sadist designed it or made me fight that horrible sea creature again. But looking back, those moments were… kind of awesome–like not something you could do in normal life.
I mean, how many people can say the Satoru Gojo has personally trained them?
Sure, he's smug, sarcastic, and has the patience of a caffeinated squirrel, but he's also the closest thing I've got to a mentor in this crazy world.
As for my wounds, they're mostly healed. I can walk, carry heavy stuff, and even do a decent impression of a functional human being. I've got a few scars on my fingers and toes, but they're barely noticeable. Honestly, they're kind of cool—like battle scars.
Now, about my future plans. I've been thinking. A lot. And I've decided: bounty hunter.
Yeah, I know, it sounds not exciting, but hear me out. Pirates? No thanks. 90% of them are just glorified thugs, and the other 9% are probably worse.
Marines? Too much structure, too many rules. I'm not exactly the "yes, sir, no, sir" type.
But bounty hunter? That's got potential. Traveling the islands, taking down bad guys, living on my own terms—it's the closest thing to freedom I can think of.
Of course, there's the small matter of getting off this island first. I don't have much money—zero. And my skills are… well, let's just say I'm a work in progress. But with Satoru's training and a little luck, I might make it work.
So, what am I doing now? Well, let's break it down. I've inherited Satoru Gojo's powers, and the man personally trains me.
I also know the plot of One Piece - well, not all of it, because I died a couple years before the finale. Yeah, thanks for that, universe. Still, I know about Haki, the Grand Line, the World Goverment, and all the crazy stuff that's coming. Give me a year or two, and I could be the most feared force in all of South Blue.
But what's a guy like me actually doing right now? Cleaning the toilet.
Yep. You heard that right.
Since I don't bring in any income, Hana and Joe have graciously decided to help solve the problem. By "problem-solving" I mean that they've dumped all the dirty, mucky work on me that they don't want to touch. So here I am, scrubbing away, with the jingling of my chain bracelets serving as the world's most depressing soundtrack.
Just as I finished up, the front door slammed open.
"I'm home!" Hana's voice echoed through the house.
Joe, who was sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, glanced up. "How was the hunt?"
"Not great," Hana grumbled, kicking off her boots. "The gun kept jamming. Again. and this stupid fog."
She walked down the hallway, pausing as she passed the bathroom. "Hey, Allen," she said, giving me a quick nod before continuing on.
"Listen, Dad," she called out, "when do you plan on stopping by Luminis?"
Joe set his coffee down. "Why? Do you need something?"
"Yeah, tools and supplies to fix this gun. It's useless in this state."
Joe sighed, folding the newspaper. "Not anytime soon. The news is saying the kingdom's fleet was defeated by pirates not far from here. It's too dangerous to travel right now."
Hana let out a heavy sigh, clearly frustrated.
I stood up, stretching my back. The toilet was clean, my chore for the day done. But Joe's news brought me back to reality.
On one hand, I was glad to have a roof over my head and people who—despite everything—seemed to care about me. On the other hand, I couldn't help but feel trapped. There was no question of getting off this island now. Too boring—my daily life is hardly pleasant or even acceptable.
But that didn't mean I was giving up.
I'd already started thinking about my options. Maybe I could pull a Luffy and stow away in a barrel. Or, better yet, build a small boat and slip away under the cover of night. Sure, it sounded crazy, but so did fighting a sea serpent with bare hands.
The only problem? These stupid chains.
Every time I moved, they jingled, a constant reminder of how far I still had to go. But I wasn't giving up. Not yet.