North Blue.
On an unknown island.
A young boy lay unconscious on the rocky shore, his small hand clutching a short dagger. His tattered clothes were soaked, and the cap on his head bore two bold characters: "正義." He looked as though the waves had tossed him ashore, another piece of wreckage left behind by the merciless sea.
After an unknown amount of time.
The boy's eyebrows furrowed slightly before his eyes fluttered open. Gradually regaining control of his body, he pushed himself up with his hands and sat upright. His gaze settled on the rippling sea before him.
"I'm still alive?"
A hollow weakness gnawed at his stomach. Instinctively, he reached to rub it—then froze. Something felt off. Looking down, his hands trembled slightly.
This… This was clearly a child's body.
The realization sent a jolt through him. He scrambled to his feet and rushed to the water's edge, staring at his reflection on the sea's surface.
A boy, no older than seven or eight years old, stared back at him. His clothes were ragged, his body thin and malnourished. He held a small dagger in his hand, and in his somber eyes flickered a cold, murderous glint.
'Rebirth? Transmigration? Possession?'
A whirlwind of thoughts stormed through his mind. Suddenly, a wave surged onto the shore, washing over his ankles. The instant the seawater touched him, a crushing weakness spread through his body. He collapsed straight onto the sand.
The abrupt sensation shattered his thoughts. Faced with the unknown, fear coursed through his veins, adrenaline spiking. Only one thought remained in his mind.
'Move! Move, damn it! MOVE!!!'
The moment the tide receded, a sliver of strength returned to his body. More and more, until he could finally force himself to crawl. Using every ounce of willpower, he dragged himself onto a nearby rock that sat above sea level. Once he reached it, he collapsed, gasping for breath.
Then came the aftermath of the adrenaline rush. His already frail body had burned through its remaining energy. Exhaustion slammed into him like a tidal wave. His eyelids grew heavier, fighting was useless—his body's instincts overpowered his will. Darkness swallowed him whole.
...
In the depths of unconsciousness, the boy dreamed.
In his dream, he was born in a thriving coastal town in the North Blue. He had a loving family. His parents ran several shops, and life was carefree.
But that peace was short-lived, Pirates invaded. Everything was lost. His parents were murdered. The town was slaughtered.
When the boy returned from playing in the hills, all that remained were severed limbs strewn across the town and the charred remains of his home. Among the wreckage lay two human-shaped corpses, burned beyond recognition.
Tears streamed down his face as he dug through the night, burying what little remained of his parents with his own hands. A single thought consumed him.
He would kill every last pirate in this world.
With the town no longer safe, the boy snuck onto a merchant ship docked at the port the next morning. Days passed, ports came and went. Finally, he found an opportunity to slip off the ship.
In a secluded coastal corner, he built a stone shelter. By day, he wandered crowded areas, gathering information. By night, he trained relentlessly. When hunger struck, he dove into the sea, catching fish to survive.
Time passed. He turned seven.
Then, one fateful day, as he was training on the beach like usual, something strange drifted in with the waves—a bright red fruit with an odd, intricate pattern.
Curious, he ran into the water and picked it up. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. He hadn't eaten all day. After a brief hesitation, he took a bite.
The taste exploded in his mouth, indescribably vile. He wanted to spit it out but couldn't. Forcing it down, he barely had time to react before a wave of weakness crashed over him. His body went limp, and he collapsed into the sea.
He struggled, but his strength drained away. Darkness claimed him once more.
When he awoke, another soul had taken his place.
...
Nighttime.
The boy lying on the reef stirred once more. But now, he was different. In his dream, he had fully merged with the memories of the boy before him.
Now, he was awake. And he understood everything.
Slowly, he extended his palm. At first, a thick, acrid smoke curled from his hand. Then, his skin turned red. His fingers twisted and morphed. Finally, his entire hand transformed into molten magma.
Drips of lava fell from his fingers, sizzling as they scorched the rock, steam rising into the night air.
Silence stretched for a moment.
Then, he laughed.
First, a soft chuckle. Then, a full, unrestrained burst of laughter.
It was wild, manic, utterly unhinged. His laughter echoed into the starless sky, carrying with it all the weight of his past life, his new future, and this incredible world he now found himself in.
He clenched his molten fist.
"From this day on, I will carry everything that was yours."
His eyes burned with resolve.
"I am—"
"Sakazuki!"
...
North Blue. Blood Bull Pirates' ship.
Bang!
With a deafening crash, a massive figure with the body of a man and the head of a bull was sent flying once again, slamming hard into the ship's deck.
The captain of the Blood Bull Pirates, "Blood Bull" Johnny, struggled to his feet.
Around him, his crew lay dead. Beside him, his younger brother, who had taken a fatal blow meant for him, lay lifeless.
Memories of their years at sea, the joys they had shared, flooded his mind. Tears streamed down his face as his bloodshot eyes burned with rage.
"You bastard! What did I ever do to you?!"
"Why?!"
"Damn demon!!!"
Blinded by fury, reason abandoned him. His body transformed into a raging wild bull, and he charged at Sakazuki with everything he had.
Watching the three-meter-tall beast barrel toward him, Sakazuki spoke in a cold, emotionless voice.
"Why? Isn't it obvious? Because all of you deserve to die."
While speaking, Sakazuki's right arm transformed into a deep crimson mass of molten lava, seething yet refusing to drip. If one looked closely, they could see the magma flowing beneath his skin.
As Johnny charged forward, Sakazuki bent his knees and leaped. With a powerful downward punch, his fist slammed into the bull-headed pirate.
The instant his fist made contact, a torrent of lava erupted from it.
Boom!
The three-meter-tall beast was driven straight into the deck. Magma poured over him, swallowing his body in molten fury.
Johnny's transformation shattered—his bull form faded, revealing his human self.
Yet before unconsciousness could claim him, the burning agony of the lava searing his flesh jolted him awake.
He was barely alive, completely powerless to resist. All he could do was scream in agony.
"AAAHHHHH!!!"
Sakazuki stepped forward, gripping Johnny's throat and lifting him into the air. Slowly, he let the magma creep up the pirate's body.
"Three years," he said. "More than ten villages slaughtered."
His grip tightened.
"Go repent in hell, trash."
As the magma crawled upward, it engulfed Johnny entirely.
His body went still, entombed within a molten cocoon.
Sakazuki turned away, stepping into the cabin. He gathered some treasure, loaded it onto his small boat, then pulled out a compass.
With the sails raised, he set off.
He had barely put a hundred meters between himself and the Blood Bull Pirates' ship when the magma cocoon around Johnny began to pulse—expanding and contracting like a beating heart. Faster and faster.
Then—
Boom!
It burst apart.
Molten rock erupted, spilling over the entire ship. The lava burned and corroded everything, devouring the vessel from within.
Slowly, it sank. Until nothing remained.
All of its sins were buried beneath the sea.
Aboard his boat, Sakazuki paid no mind to the explosion behind him. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of bounty posters. Each one had a large X drawn over it.
Flipping to the last one, he took a pen and marked a bold X over Blood Bull Johnny's bounty. Then, he tossed it to the sea.
'They're all gone, huh? Guess it's time to join the Marines.'
Standing at the bow, Sakazuki gazed at the endless sea. He was no longer the frail boy from five years ago.
With his Devil Fruit ability, hunting beasts had become effortless. With proper nutrition, in just five years, he had grown far beyond an ordinary twelve-year-old.
Draped in a red coat, his features were sharp, his frame broad and powerful. Strapped to his back was a long sword, a trophy taken from a pirate crew he had hunted down.
He had spent three years on that unknown island—training, gathering intelligence, and compiling that stack of bounty posters.
This was reality, not the glorified world of his past life's anime.
Every pirate on those posters was a butcher, leaving behind villages drenched in blood. Even picking one at random—killing them ten times over wouldn't feel like enough.
Everything he had seen over the years only reinforced Sakazuki's belief.
'The only good pirate is a dead pirate.'
Two years ago, he set sail. Following the faces on those bounty posters, he slaughtered his way through them.
In just two years, he had earned a name—"The Demon."
This wasn't the Great Pirate Era yet. Roger hadn't spoken those final words that would shake the world. But chaos was already spreading.
From the bounty posters he had collected, it was clear—every year, more and more pirates emerged. No matter how many he killed, one man alone could only do so much.
He could refine his Devil Fruit abilities on his own, using knowledge from his past life. But when it came to physical combat—he had reached his limit.
Martial arts, the Six Powers, Haki—he understood the theories. He knew what they were. But without a proper teacher, he couldn't master them.
Take Soru, for example. He knew it involved stepping on the ground at high speed—at least ten times in an instant—to generate explosive force for rapid movement. To an enemy, it would look like teleportation.
But theory was just theory. He had no idea how much force to apply or how to control it.
And Haki—Armament, Observation. He had no real understanding of how to manifest them, let alone wield them.
Trying to figure it out alone would be a waste of time.
So… the first step was joining the Marines.
Set a small goal.
How about—leaving no pirates alive?
...
Half a month later.
North Blue, Fuwahana Island. 194th Marine Branch, Recruitment Office.
"Next!"
A Marine clerk, busy recording names, barely looked up.
"Name?"
"Sakazuki."
"Age?"
"12."
The clerk paused, glancing up from his papers.
Sakazuki was taller and more built than even him. His mouth twitched slightly, but he continued.
"Why do you want to join the Marines?"
A faint killing intent seeped from Sakazuki's body. His answer was calm.
"To wipe out every last pirate in this world."
The clerk raised an eyebrow but nodded knowingly. Another kid with a grudge against pirates—it wasn't uncommon.
"Do you have any special skills?"
Sakazuki's voice remained steady.
"Logia-type—Magma Devil Fruit user."
The clerk froze.
"H-Huh?"
A moment later—
"WHAT?!!!"
He shot up from his seat, knocking over his chair.
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New novel that I will start posting.