On a cold winter day, I am walking on a bridge, wearing a suit.
The wind cuts across my face—sharp as a blade.
My shoulders are slumped under the weight of frost. Ahead, the bridge disappears into a gray sea of mist.
I walk straight through it.
Day in, day out, the same soul-crushing routine: wake to a blaring alarm, choke down stale coffee, shuffle through crowded commutes, and collapse into a bed that offers no rest.
Is that all I'm ever going to experience in the future?
Do I even have a future?
Will I ever be able to get married?
A single breath slides through my lungs.
One thing I'm sure of is that I won't be able to find a good partner—someone who I actually like.
Even if I do get married, what's the point?
With this little salary, I'd only be dragging my partner into despair too.
I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. I just want eternal sleep.
Should I die? It seems like a perfect idea to me.
That thought rises again—familiar, relentless.
The idea of eternal sleep wasn't new—it had shadowed him since school, a quiet companion that grew louder with every failure, every rejection, until it drowned out all else.
I really don't mind dying.
I've never been able to fit into this world.
I just wanted to have enough money to travel anywhere in the world.
I wanted to be free.
Enough self-talk.
Let's die.
This bridge is very high.
I walk to the edge of the bridge and stared into the deep, endless fog.
The wind was blowing. The tree leaves are rustling.
I stood on the bridge railing and stared into the abyss.
My shoes scrape the wood. One toe over the edge.
It feels like it is calling me.
"If I jump, I hope I die instantly," he thought.
"Don't overthink—just do it."
"Here I go."
The wind roars in my ears.
My throat goes dry.
A frozen heartbeat.
My coat flaps like a wounded bird.
He is ready to meet the ground quickly.
The cold wind touched his face. His hands were freezing.
He couldn't see the ground, but he was ready to finally reach eternal sleep.
A gut‑shattering crash.
My ears fill with a thunderous hush.
Ice‑cold shock rips through my chest.
Saltwater burns my eyes.
For a moment, I'm weightless—suspended in blue. Then gravity wins, and I plummet deeper. My lungs scream. Pain lances through my ribcage.
My eyes open. Darkness envelops me. Only a faint glow above.
I struggle. Arms thrash. Legs kick. Saltwater stings my eyes.
Every stroke burns.
I start swimming, trying to reach the surface.
Faster… faster…
I taste salt and panic.
My throat tightens. A single thought: air.
I wanted a quick death, not to suffocate.
It's hard—any second now, I might lose my breath.
Light grows— pale and distant—above my head.
I reach. Fingers break the surface.
I gasp in a lungful of chilly air. The world snaps back.
"Haa… haa… haa… I thought I was going to die," I whisper, voice quavering.
What's going on? There's supposed to be ground—not a lake.
Where the fuck am I?
I look around. A small rowboat bobs a few meters away. Beyond it, endless ocean glints under a brilliant sun.
Water stretches to the horizon. No land in sight.
I swam through the ocean waves.
The saltwater seared my throat with every gulp as I kicked frantically toward the hull. Above me, the sun glinted off rolling swells in a thousand fractured diamonds.
At last I hooked my fingertips over the edge of the boat and hauled myself up.
My knees hit the boat's planks with a rough thud. I collapsed onto the wooden deck, gasping for air, as the brine‑sweet breeze carried the tang of seaweed and old rope into my nostrils.
Each breath sounded like rasping cloth, and sweat stung my eyes as I fought the tremor in my limbs. A gull's shrill cry sliced through the roar of the waves, reminding me how alive—how exposed—I was.
For two full minutes, I could do nothing but breathe heavily.
Then it happened—suddenly, memories began to flood into my mind. Memories that didn't belong to me. Memories of a boy on a journey, chasing strength and trying to become strong.
So... I'm in the world of One Piece.
The person I've become is named Mark D. Alex. He's seventeen years old and has traveled across countless islands, all in pursuit of power. A prodigy, they called him. He started learning martial arts when he was just three. He's a training maniac—absolutely obsessed. He even awakened Haki .
And now... I've transmigrated into his body.
I couldn't be happier. I mean, just think about it—I'm not just in One Piece; I'm in the body of someone this strong!
From right now my name is Alex.
Alex stand up on the boat and looks at the sky. The sound of waves lapping against the wood echoed gently in the background, while seagulls circled above in the open blue.
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and then opened them with a sharp clarity.
"I'm gonna find the One Piece... and become the King of the Pirates!" he declared.
Then he smirked.
"...Ha ha ha. Just kidding."
I chuckled to myself. I just wanna live my life peacefully. But how the hell am I supposed to do that in the freaking One Piece world? Crime is everywhere.
The Marines are corrupt. This world follows might is right law.
And don't even get me started on the real tragedy—no internet, no manga, no anime, no video games.
No phones. No AC. No online shopping.
I slapped my cheek.
The sting echoed in my skull. "Stop thinking negative," I muttered, voice thick with foam‑flecked salt.
I lay down on the deck, trying to focus on the positives.
I'm strong. I know Haki.
This body can handle whatever East Blue throws at it.
After merging with Alex's memories, I feel confident in this body. It can handle dangerous situations, no problem. I just have to stay low-key. Live in a safe place. Keep away from anyone powerful or insane.
I mean, sure, there's no internet...
But hey... maybe I won't die alone in this world. With this face and strength? I might actually get a shot at romance.
Wait—hold up. Why was Alex drowning in the first place?
Oh right. I remember now—Alex had been sailing when he noticed a strange fruit floating in the water. It was black, with white shimmering particles, and covered in swirling patterns. The only word that came to mind when I saw it was: cosmic.
He didn't know what kind of fruit it was.
He picked it up, took a bite... and immediately regretted it. It tasted incredibly bitter. Disgusted, he tossed the rest of it into the sea.
He got hungry, so he jumped into the ocean to catch some fish. But once he was in the water, he realized he couldn't swim. He held his breath for nearly twenty minutes, desperately trying to get back to the surface. Eventually, he reached his limit—and that's when I took over his body.
"So... he ate a legendary Devil Fruit."
But wait—why am I able to swim?
After thinking it through, I came up with only one theory:
The Devil Fruit curse affects the soul. When Alex's soul left his body, the curse went with it. I inherited the body—but not the curse.
Hopefully, the powers are tied to the body, not the soul. Otherwise, I might've missed out on them entirely.
Let's figure out what kind of power I have.
"Gum.. Gum.." No I can't stretch
"Flame" I can't shoot fire
Maybe I am not visualising clearly
"Wind" No
"Water" Not either
"Transform" I don't think I have a Zoan fruit.
Please let it be a Logia... If it is, I'll be untouchable in East Blue.
So where exactly am I?
If I remember right, Alex was looking for Zoro to challenge him to a duel. That means... the first place I'll probably land is Shells Town.
After paddling for what felt like hours, I finally saw another boat on the horizon.
"Thank god," I muttered. "If I hadn't run into anyone, this journey might've ended before it even began."
I started waving frantically.
As the distance closed, I got a good look at the person onboard. My eyes widened in shock.
I saw a girl—wearing a short skirt and a white T-shirt. But what caught my attention most of all was her bright orange hair.
Nami.
I never expected to meet her so soon.