Somewhere within the endless reaches of the cosmos lies a world unlike any other.
Ever since its creation countless ages ago, one thing has remained constant across its history—the sea.
Upon those vast waters, innumerable legends have been born.
The names and achievements of extraordinary figures have spread across every corner of the globe, their tales inspiring generation after generation to hoist their sails and venture toward the unknown horizons beyond the ocean.
The years flowed onward.
Eras rose and fell.
Yet the sea never changed.
It neither rejoiced nor grieved.
It simply remained there, just as it always had.
Quietly observing wave after wave of dreamers standing before it and declaring words it had already heard more times than could ever be counted.
“I’ll become the Pirate King!”
Every single one of them proclaimed the same ambition.
Pirate King?
The title was certainly familiar.
How could it not be?
After all, this was an age known throughout the world as—
The Great Age of Pirates.
The ocean was a place of endless dangers, but beneath its perilous surface existed wonders that could not be found anywhere else.
That was the reason people continued to brave the seas century after century without hesitation.
And it is upon those same waters that this story begins.
Specifically, within the East Blue—
The sea infamous for being the weakest among the world’s four oceans.
Among the countless islands scattered throughout the East Blue like pieces across a game board, there existed a tiny island devoid of both inhabitants and even a name.
The scenery there was breathtaking.
Under the sunlight, the blue sea sparkled brilliantly.
White sand stretched along the shoreline, decorated with colorful shells and vibrant coral.
A gentle breeze drifted inland carrying the scent of salt and seaweed, accompanied by the distant cries of seagulls.
The entire island radiated a peaceful tranquility.
Near a cliff overlooking the sea, a solitary figure rested on the ground.
A roughly woven straw hat made from fresh green grass covered his face.
Although it looked somewhat ridiculous, it did a decent job of shielding him from the blazing midday sun.
The young man lay with both hands tucked behind his head.
Perhaps he was asleep.
Or perhaps he was simply enjoying a pleasant daydream.
Several fishing rods stood beside him in an orderly row.
Their lines extended over the edge of the cliff, swaying gently in the breeze while their hooks drifted through the clear waters below.
Everything seemed calm and serene.
Unfortunately, beautiful moments rarely last forever.
This one was no different.
A sudden ringing sound shattered the silence.
The bell attached to one of the fishing rods had begun to ring.
It served as a simple alarm.
Whenever a fish bit the hook, the bell would sound and alert him before the catch could get away.
After all, on this deserted island, fish were by far the easiest source of meat.
The boy immediately jumped to his feet.
The grass hat that had been covering his face was tossed aside without hesitation.
Compared to food, a hat wasn’t worth caring about.
Only now did his appearance become visible.
Years spent beneath the sun and beside the ocean had given his skin a healthy bronze complexion.
Constant exposure to sea winds and sunlight had stripped away the softness from his features, leaving them rougher and more mature.
He stood around a hundred and seventy-eight centimeters tall.
His physique was lean yet powerful, with well-defined muscles and a clearly visible six-pack across his abdomen.
His hair had long since grown beyond shoulder length.
Though he had gathered it into a rough knot using a length of straw rope, loose strands still hung freely around his face, giving him a somewhat rugged appearance.
If he suddenly appeared in a modern city, he would attract plenty of strange looks.
Most people would likely assume he was a drifter or homeless wanderer.
If he happened to wander into an influencer’s livestream, he might even become an overnight internet sensation.
But on this deserted island, none of those things mattered.
At that moment, he was overwhelmed with excitement.
The weight coming through the fishing rod told him that something enormous had taken the bait.
In fact, it might very well be the largest catch he had landed since arriving in this world.
If he managed to reel it in, he wouldn’t need to worry about meat for at least a week.
“Hup!
Hah!
Hup!
Hah!”
Grunting loudly, he pulled with all his strength while rhythmically hauling on the rod.
However, after a short while, he began to sense that something was off.
The weight was undeniably tremendous.
Yet there was no resistance.
None of the familiar struggling or tugging that always came with a hooked fish.
Instead…
It felt as though he had snagged the corpse of some gigantic sea creature.
Heavy.
But completely motionless.
Realizing this, he loosened his grip slightly and tested the line.
As expected, there was still no reaction from below.
Frowning, he cautiously leaned over the cliff and looked down toward the water.
The moment he saw what was there, he froze.
A giant fish?
Not even remotely.
What floated beneath him was an enormous wooden barrel.
“Damn it!”
The emotional whiplash nearly made him swear.
Irritated, he threw the fishing rod onto the ground.
Then, in the very next instant, the rod suddenly jerked forward and almost disappeared over the edge of the cliff.
The drifting barrel was being carried by the current, dragging the rod along with it.
His expression changed immediately.
Without wasting a second, he lunged forward and seized the rod before it could vanish into the sea.
Afterward, he quickly pulled out a rope he always kept nearby and secured the rod to a tree.
Only then did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.
A barrel certainly couldn’t compare to a giant fish.
Still, it was better than catching nothing at all.
At the very least, it could be used for storage.
The waters beneath the cliff formed a natural collection point where ocean currents frequently deposited all kinds of debris.
Barrels washing ashore were among the most common discoveries.
Back when he had first arrived on the island, every barrel he found had filled him with anticipation.
It felt like opening a mystery treasure chest.
Who knew what might be hidden inside?
Perhaps a legendary weapon.
Perhaps even a Devil Fruit.
Even a supply of edible food would have been welcome.
Reality, however, had always been disappointing.
No legendary weapons.
No Devil Fruits.
Instead, he usually found rotten food that had spoiled long ago.
Although his resources were limited, he wasn’t desperate enough to eat something like that.
“Sigh…
Let’s hope this one contains something useful.”
Muttering to himself, he started heading down toward the beach.
As mentioned before, he had been fishing from a cliff roughly four or five meters above sea level.
It was an excellent fishing spot.
Unfortunately, hauling a giant barrel all the way up there was another matter entirely.
Following a route he had traveled countless times before, he made his way toward the shoreline.
The sandals woven from leaves and wild grass beneath his feet pressed lightly into the soft white sand, leaving faint footprints behind him.
Not long afterward, the barrel came into view.
It was fairly large and bobbed continuously with the incoming waves.
“Not bad.”
The boy muttered as he approached.
Grabbing hold of it, he dragged it onto the shore.
Once he removed the handmade hook embedded in its side, he stood the barrel upright and lightly tapped the lid with a finger.
The instant he did—
The barrel exploded apart as though a bomb had gone off inside.
“Hahahahaha!
I’m finally saved!”