The first profound thought that crossed my mind upon reincarnating into a fictional universe was not about destiny, adventure, or the indomitable human spirit.
It was, quite simply: *The floor is too hard, and the sun is too loud.* I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to cling to the fading edges of a genuinely fantastic dream, but the wooden floorboards beneath me were entirely unforgiving.
A salty, humid breeze wafted over my face, carrying the distinct scent of ocean water and sweat.
I cracked one eye open.
I was staring at a wooden ceiling.
I lifted a hand to rub my face and paused.
It was small, chubby, and possessed the uncoordinated clumsiness of an eight-year-old.
I sat up, scratching a head of hair that felt suspiciously like a thick patch of lawn moss.
I wandered over to a polished bronze mirror resting in the corner of the small room.
Staring back at me was a scowling kid with vivid green hair.
Roronoa Zoro.
“Well,” I muttered, my voice a high-pitched squeak that I instantly despised.
“That’s a lot of work.” I knew the plot.
I knew the grand line, the Yonko, the Haki training, and the agonizing amount of cardio required to become the world’s greatest swordsman.
Honestly?
It sounded exhausting.
I was a guy who preferred typing in his sleep, taking life at a horizontal angle whenever possible.
Now, I was in the body of a guy whose defining character trait was lifting boulders with his teeth.
Suddenly, a translucent, glowing blue screen shattered the quiet morning air, hovering directly in front of my face with the obnoxious cheerfulness of a smartphone alarm.
**[DING!
Welcome, Host!
The ‘Supreme Sword God of the Heavens System’ has detected a compatible soul!]** **[Would you like to bind?
Y / N]** **[Rewards for binding: Legendary Sword ‘Excalibur’, 10,000 EXP, and a six-pack!]** I stared at the floating text.
A system.
Of course.
It was a standard reincarnation package.
But looking at the flashing ‘Y’, all I could think about was the inevitable string of daily quests, the screaming notifications, and the mandatory push-ups it would force upon me before breakfast.
I raised a pudgy finger and tapped ‘N’.
The screen shattered into digital pixels.
Ah, peace.
I yawned, stretching my tiny arms, and turned to go back to my futon.
**[DING!
Wait!
The ‘Invincible Pirate Emperor System’ offers you a second chance!
Bind now to receive a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit!]** “Too flashy.
I’d drown.” I swiped it away.
**[DING!
The ‘Infinite Harem Anime Protagonist System’ is ready for—]** “Absolutely not.
Sounds like a logistical nightmare.” Swipe.
**[DING!
The ‘Lazy God Idle System’!
Gain stats just by sleeping!
Click here to—]** I paused.
My finger hovered over the ‘Y’.
It was incredibly tempting.
But then I squinted at the fine print at the bottom of the glowing box.
*Warning: Failure to sleep 18 hours a day will result in instantaneous combustion.* “Classic scam,” I sighed, swatting the screen away like a pesky mosquito.
“I’ll pass.” The notifications finally ceased, leaving me in blessed silence.
I rubbed my eyes, letting out a long, heavy sigh.
As much as I wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep until the Pirate Era blew over, a nagging thought anchored itself in the back of my mind.
Shimotsuki Village.
Kuina.
My lethargy warred with my conscience.
I knew what happened to her.
I knew the absurd, tragic, completely avoidable way she died.
I couldn’t just sleep through that.
If I was going to be stuck in this moss-headed body, the absolute bare minimum I could do was make sure a staircase didn’t take out the most promising swordswoman of this generation.
Grumbling about the unfairness of the universe, I tied a green haramaki around my waist, grabbed a wooden training sword—a shinai—that was leaning against the wall, and dragged my feet out into the courtyard.
The Shimotsuki dojo was already alive with the sounds of grunting trainees and the clack of bamboo hitting bamboo.
It was too early for this level of enthusiasm.
I slouched against a wooden pillar, suppressing a yawn as I watched the older kids practice their forms.
“Oi, green hair.
Are you going to sleep standing up, or are you actually going to train?” I cracked an eye open.
Standing a few feet away was a young girl with short, dark blue hair.
She held her shinai perfectly level, her posture immaculate, and her dark eyes practically radiating condescension.
She looked like someone who had never hit the snooze button in her life.
Kuina.
“I’m conserving energy,” I replied, leaning heavier against the pillar.
“It’s a high-level tactical maneuver.” She scoffed, a sharp, dismissive sound.
“You’re lazy.
My father says you wandered in here a few days ago demanding to fight, but all you’ve done is nap under the peach tree.” “The shade is exceptional,” I defended myself.
“And the ground is softer there.” “Pick up your sword,” Kuina commanded, dropping into a flawless combat stance.
“If you’re going to take up space in my family’s dojo, you’re going to prove you aren’t completely useless.” I looked at the heavy bamboo sword in my hand, then at Kuina, who looked like she was ready to commit a minor felony if I didn’t comply.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the pillar.
“Fine.
But when I win, I’m going back to bed.” I charged.
Or, at least, I tried to.
In my head, I envisioned a swift, devastating strike that would disarm her instantly.
In reality, my eight-year-old center of gravity betrayed me.
The shinai was heavier than I expected, my footwork tangled, and I stumbled forward like a drunk penguin.
Kuina didn’t even look impressed.
She sidestepped with bored precision, brought her sword down, and cracked me squarely on the back of the head.
*Smack.* I hit the dirt face-first, a cloud of dust rising around my defeat.
“One,” Kuina announced, resting her sword on her shoulder.
“You’re even worse than I thought.” I groaned, the taste of dry earth in my mouth.
I didn’t want to get up.
The ground here wasn’t too bad, honestly.
But then I looked up at her ankles, remembering the fragile nature of her canon fate.
If she was this strong now, it was a crime against the universe to let her story end on a random Tuesday because of a misplaced step.
I pushed myself up, my head throbbing, and spat out a mouthful of dirt.
“Lucky shot.
Let’s go again.” *Smack.* “Two.” *Smack.* “Three.
Are you even trying?” *Smack.* “Four.
Keep your guard up, idiot.” By the time we hit match number twenty, everything hurt.
My arms were jelly, my lungs were burning, and I was entirely certain I had a mild concussion.
I was lying spread-eagle in the middle of the courtyard, staring blankly at the sky.
Kuina stood over me, barely breaking a sweat.
“Twenty.
You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.
But you have zero technique, no strength, and you swing like a sleepy toddler.” “I am a sleepy toddler,” I wheezed, closing my eyes.
“I require sustenance.” Before she could lecture me further, I rolled over and spotted a half-eaten rice ball sitting on the edge of the wooden porch.
It looked like it had been there since yesterday.
It had a questionable, slightly gray tint to the rice, and a very brave ant was currently exploring the seaweed wrapper.
Without missing a beat, I crawled over, picked it up, brushed the ant off, and shoved the entire thing into my mouth.
Kuina made a sound of pure disgust.
“Are you insane?!
That’s been sitting in the sun all day!
You’re going to get violently ill!” I chewed slowly, swallowing the dense, slightly sour rice.
Strangely, my stomach didn’t churn.
In fact, it felt like a furnace kicking into gear, instantly incinerating the spoiled food and converting it into a warm, buzzing energy.
It seemed the infamous Roronoa iron stomach was a biological reality, not just an anime gag.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, sitting up and wiping my mouth.
“Builds immunity.” Kuina stared at me like I was a newly discovered species of idiot.
“You are disgusting.
And weird.
I’m going back to my forms.
Don’t throw up on the training mats.” She turned and walked away, her wooden sword snapping through the air with crisp, disciplined strikes.
I watched her for a long time.
She was brilliant.
A prodigy bound by the tragic, mundane rules of a world that didn’t appreciate her.
I leaned my head back against the wooden porch, letting out a long breath.
I didn’t want to train.
I really, really just wanted to take a nap.
But as I watched her perfect her swings in the morning light, I knew my lazy days were numbered.
I was going to have to get stronger.
Not for the title of the world’s greatest swordsman, and certainly not because a glowing blue screen told me to.
I was going to do it to keep her alive.
**[DING!
The ‘Ultimate Hard Work and Perseverance System’ has been moved by your resolve!
Bind now to unlock—]** “Read the room,” I muttered, swatting the screen out of existence.
I closed my eyes, folded my arms behind my head, and fell asleep on the porch.
Training could wait until after lunch.
I finally dragged myself out of bed long enough to drop this brand-new fan fiction!
This one features a System and has everyone’s favorite lost swordsman, Zoro, as the main protagonist.
Let’s see if a System can actually help him find his way for once.
A quick heads-up: the cover image you are seeing is completely temporary.
I tried making a good one, but my sleep-deprived brain just couldn’t handle the artistic pressure, so I slapped this placeholder on for now.
I will change it eventually!
If you enjoy the story, please drop some reviews and let me know what you think in the comments.
Feel free to chuck some Power Stones at my head, and obviously, do me a massive favor and share it around.
Alright, my part is done.
Going back to my nap…