15: 15.
Lies, Letters, and the First Real Enemy 15: 15.
Lies, Letters, and the First Real Enemy = Usopp’s POV = Time had a strange way of slipping through my fingers.
One moment, I was a kid running through the forest with a slingshot that barely hit anything except unlucky trees, and the next moment, I was thirteen years old, standing on the same ground but feeling like I had already lived far more than one life should allow.
The days did not feel longer, and the nights did not feel shorter, yet everything had changed in ways that were impossible to ignore.
The dreams never stopped.
If anything, they became clearer.
They came in fragments at first, like broken mirrors reflecting pieces of a future I could not fully grasp, but over the years, they turned into something far more useful.
They guided me, corrected me, and sometimes even mocked me when I made mistakes that my past self had already made before.
I learned not just how to shoot better, but how to move, how to react, and how to survive in situations that would have once made me freeze.
Sniping was still my strongest skill, and I took pride in that, but I was no longer satisfied with being someone who could only fight from a distance.
The world I was preparing to enter was not kind to people who relied on a single trick, and I refused to become the kind of weakling who could only talk big and run away when things got serious.
So I trained.
Every day.
Relentlessly.
My body changed, though not in the way I had once imagined.
I had hoped for broad shoulders, thick arms, and the kind of intimidating build that would make enemies think twice before approaching me, but reality had its own sense of humor.
I became more toned, more refined, but not particularly large, which meant that I still looked like a normal kid my age if someone did not look too closely.
At first, I found that disappointing.
Then I remembered Luffy.
That guy did not look particularly muscular either, yet he could punch through things that should not logically be punchable.
Strength was not always visible, and if anything, looking unimpressive might even become an advantage.
After all, people underestimated you more easily that way.
That thought made me grin.
I had grown stronger, far stronger than the version of myself that I remembered from those past-life memories, and that difference was not small.
Back then, I had relied too much on luck, improvisation, and exaggerated lies that sometimes became reality through sheer coincidence.
Now, I still lied—because I was still me—but I made sure that I had the ability to back those lies up when it truly mattered.
My friends had improved too.
Kids in Syrup Village were not exactly known for becoming warriors, but running around the forest, climbing trees, and occasionally getting into reckless competitions had naturally made everyone tougher.
Even so, none of them could match me anymore.
Not even Ghimli.
Ghimli was supposed to be the strongest among us, a walking wall of muscle compared to the rest of our group, and yet I could defeat him in a contest of strength if I actually tried.
The first time that happened, the look on his face was so tragic that I almost felt guilty.
Almost.
That was when I realized something important.
Winning all the time was not always a good thing.
So I started holding back.
When I fought Ghimli, I made sure to struggle just enough to make it believable before “losing” in a dramatic fashion, usually accompanied by some ridiculous excuse about how I had already fought ten wild beasts earlier that day and was simply too exhausted to continue.
I did not go that far with the others, but I still made sure that my victories never looked effortless.
It was… fun.
Strangely fun.
Hiding my true strength, misleading people, and controlling how others perceived me felt like playing a game where I already knew the rules while everyone else was still guessing.
I could not help but think that this approach would be incredibly useful in the future, especially when I eventually joined the Straw Hat crew.
Enemies who underestimated me would lower their guard, and enemies who lowered their guard would lose.
More importantly, I would survive, because no matter how much I trained, no matter how much stronger I became, one truth remained unchanged.
The future was not guaranteed.
What I remembered was only one possible path, and my actions had already begun to change it.
Even small changes could create ripples, and those ripples could grow into waves that altered everything.
Which brought me to the biggest gamble I had taken so far.
The letters.
I had no way of confirming whether the ones I sent had reached Garp, and even if they had, I could not know whether he had acted on them.
Years had passed, yet there was no clear news about the Arlong Pirates in East Blue.
That silence was both comforting and terrifying.
It could mean that they never came.
It could mean that Garp had stopped them before they could do anything.
Or it could mean that they were already there, quietly ruling over islands while the world remained unaware, just like in the memories I carried.
I could only hope that my interference had mattered.
I stopped sending letters to Garp after hearing that Jinbe became a Warlord of the Sea, because at that point, the situation had already reached a stage where my involvement could do more harm than good.
Garp would either act or he would not, and constantly feeding him information would only increase the risk of someone tracing those letters back to me, and that was a risk I could not afford.
Still, I did not stop writing.
I simply changed my targets.
If I could not influence everything, then I would focus on what I could reach.
That was easier said than done.
Sending letters across the seas was expensive, especially for a kid like me who did not exactly have a hidden treasure stash buried behind my family’ house.
My mother was healthy now, which was already a miracle I would never take for granted, but that did not mean we suddenly became rich.
Every coin mattered.
Every decision had consequences.
I also had to consider the possibility that the World Government monitored certain communication channels.
If my letters were intercepted and someone noticed a pattern, things could escalate very quickly in a direction that I absolutely did not want to deal with at the age of thirteen.
So I kept everything limited.
One letter per destination, casual tone, and no obvious signs that I knew the future.
If they understood, then good.
If they did not, then at least I tried.
One of the places I targeted was Arabasta.
Arabasta Kingdom was relatively close to Reverse Mountain, which made it one of the few places on the Grand Line that I could realistically reach through mail.
I addressed the letter to the royal palace, hoping that it would somehow reach King Nefertari Cobra.
Whether it actually did was another matter entirely.
Still, it was a chance.
Another target was Sorbet Kingdom.
Sorbet Kingdom was far, painfully far, located in South Blue, and sending letters there cost significantly more.
Yet I kept sending them anyway, because of one person.
Bartholomew Kuma.
If there was anyone who could connect me to the Revolutionary Army, it was him.
More importantly, I wanted to help him, even if only a little, and by extension, help Jewelry Bonney.
That was not something I could ignore.
Of course, reaching them was another problem entirely.
Hidden organizations like the Revolutionary Army did not exactly leave their addresses lying around for curious kids to find, and I had neither the resources nor the influence to dig that deep.
Even so, I tried, because doing nothing felt worse than failing.
At the end of the day, though, I knew my limits.
I could not save everyone.
I could not change everything, but I could change myself, and that was where my focus remained.
Which brought me to the most immediate problem.
Kaya, her family, and the man who would soon enter their lives under a false name.
I had already done what I could.
I sent a letter to her father, warning him about someone named Klahadore, describing how that man would infiltrate their household, earn their trust, and eventually betray them.
I included as many details as I could remember, including his real identity as Kuro, a pirate with a 16 million Berries bounty, and even mentioned his distinctive habit of pushing his glasses up with his palm.
It was not perfect.
I lacked deeper knowledge about Kaya’s family, and without something more personal, it would be difficult to fully convince a cautious merchant.
So I prepared a second letter.
This time, I included Kuro’s bounty poster.
That, at least, was something concrete.
Still, I knew it might not be enough.
Kuro was not just any pirate.
He was known as “Kuro of a Hundred Plans” for a reason.
Which meant that if I was going to stop him, I needed more than just warnings.
I needed to be ready because this would not be like anything I had faced before.
This would not be a game with my friends where I could pretend to struggle before winning.
This would not be a situation where I could rely on luck and quick thinking alone.
This would be a real fight against a real pirate, and if I failed, it would not just be my life at risk.
It would be my mother, my friends, Kaya, and everyone in the village.
I clenched my fists, feeling the weight of that reality settle firmly in my chest.
“Alright,” I muttered to myself, forcing a grin that felt a little too sharp to be entirely normal.
“Let’s see who’s the better planner.” For once, my lies were not just for show.
They were part of a strategy, and this time, I intended to win.
—————————————————————- Thank you for your support.
Starting this chapter, I will only upload 1 FREE Daily Chapter across all platforms.
CHAPTER 67.
Usopp vs Musshuru CHAPTER 68.
HolyRicekun