“He is the least talented person we have here.
He is scrawny, his muscles never grow no matter how much he trains, he is slow-witted, and he is always spacing out.
We used to bully him all the time.
Later, he was tricked by a pirate named Roger into becoming some kind of chef, and he never came back.”
East Blue, Conomi Islands.
Foosha Village, Imperial Boxing Gym.
CP9 agent Rukia Ichijou paused her writing.
“Do you know his surname, or if he has any family left?”
The burly man scratched his head.
“He was an orphan adopted by the old village chief.
After the chief died, he had no home.
We all called him Little White Hair.
His surname was something like Beelzebub… Sven.”
“Right.
Sven Beelzebub.”
Rukia Ichijou quickly recorded the information:
Roger Pirates chef, Beelzebub Sven.
Age: fifteen.
Haki: none.
Devil Fruit: none.
Overall assessment: Non-combatant.
Arrest priority: Extremely high.
The Pirate King, Gol D.
Roger, was about to be publicly executed in Loguetown.
The World Government had dispatched CP9 agents to secretly track down the remnants of the Roger Pirates.
Rukia Ichijou had no intention of targeting monsters like Silvers Rayleigh or Scopper Gaban.
But the ship’s insignificant chef was a different matter.
A CP9 agent versus a mere cook.
The outcome was obvious.
A fortune and a promotion were within reach.
In a good mood, Rukia Ichijou tossed down thirty thousand Berries and hurried away.
If Sven was not in his hometown, then there was a high chance he would head to Loguetown to witness Roger’s final moments.
Everything depended on this.
The night deepened as stars shimmered across the sky.
A small wooden boat, shaped like a coffin, cut through the waves and quietly docked at Loguetown’s port.
At the bow, Sven set aside the oars and stretched his arms.
“We are here, Mihawk.”
The young man addressed opened his sharp, hawk-like eyes.
Dracule Mihawk studied Sven with clear confusion.
“Are you really a member of Roger’s crew?”
He could not understand it.
No Devil Fruit.
No Haki.
Not even a proper ship.
How had someone like this reached the Final Island?
Was it that inexplicable confidence?
Mihawk glanced at him again, his gaze sharpening.
How could such a weak man possess such overwhelming certainty?
“Hey, what is with that look?” Sven said, already used to it.
“I told you, I am a chef.”
And that was the truth.
Within the Roger Pirates, Sven’s cooking was unmatched.
As for his combat ability, it was best left unmentioned.
It was not by choice.
His natural talent was painfully poor.
No matter how hard he trained, he could not keep up with the monsters around him.
Worse still, the gap only continued to grow.
Mihawk picked up the oar and adjusted the position of his blade.
“Stay close.
This town is full of prying eyes.”
At this time, Mihawk was only nineteen, still traveling the seas in search of worthy opponents.
Hearing of Roger’s execution, he had made his way here and, by chance, hired a boatman at Reverse Mountain.
That boatman was Sven.
After securing a free ride, Sven naturally followed Mihawk and even secured a place to stay, a spacious room in Loguetown.
Once inside, Sven sank into the bathtub, letting the fatigue wash away.
The entire journey had fallen on him.
Mihawk had no interest in rowing.
Still, he had made it in time.
Unlike Mihawk, Sven had come for one reason only.
To witness the end of the Pirate King.
And to finally activate his system.
Sixteen years ago, Sven had been thrown into this world by truck-kun, awakening later with a system that refused to activate.
[Trading Platform: Pending Activation]
[Activation Conditions]
Pirate King’s Straw Hat: Completed
Whitebeard’s Beard: Completed
Shanks’ Red Hair: Completed
Buggy’s Treasure Map: Completed
Blackbeard’s Teeth: Completed
Witness the Pirate King’s Death: Incomplete
Everything depended on tomorrow.
If he failed, the next opportunity would come in twenty-four years.
That was not an option.
In this world, without talent, bloodline, or status, survival without power was impossible.
Sven exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting toward the rewards waiting for him:
Rumble-Rumble Fruit.
Innate Divine Strength.
Big Eater.
That was the source of his confidence.
Unlike most, Sven had no hesitation about consuming a Devil Fruit.
He could not swim anyway, so the drawback meant little.
What mattered was choosing the strongest possible ability.
Anyone who claimed that all Devil Fruits were equal was a fool.
Differences existed everywhere, even among people.
But Sven was different.
He had something others did not.
A shortcut.
Among all Logia abilities, the Goro Goro no Mi stood above the rest in his eyes.
Speed rivaling light.
Destructive power on par with magma.
Enhanced Observation Haki.
Self-revival through electricity.
Near limitless energy.
Attack, defense, speed, recovery, and Haki amplification, all in one.
And above all, it looked cool.
Strength might depend on circumstance, but style was eternal.
As for Big Eater, it was exactly what he needed.
At fifteen, his frail body had yet to grow.
Whether he could reach the level of the top fighters depended on it.
Innate Divine Strength remained a mystery for now.
Leaning back, Sven closed his eyes briefly.
Tomorrow would not be an ordinary day.
The people who would gather…
Crocodile.
Gecko Moria.
Shanks.
Monkey D.
Dragon.
Donquixote Doflamingo.
Buggy.
And Smoker.
A gathering of monsters.
Sven opened his eyes, a faint smirk forming.
“Now this… is going to be interesting.”