The morning after the fight, the village smelled like wet ash and burnt salt.
I wandered the beach alone, the tide nipping at my ankles. My arms ached with every movement. My knuckles were scabbed over, fingers stiff from bruising. I wasn't in pieces, but I wasn't far off.
The rowboat the pirates had landed in lay wrecked near the shore. Someone had smashed it to splinters. Maybe Jiro. Maybe Kaoru. I didn't ask.
The sand was littered with burnt debris, fishnets, and blackened wood. Hana was already out sweeping her storefront, white flour smudged across her cheek, a stubborn line drawn in her jaw. She gave me a short nod as I passed.
That kind of silence said more than words.
I passed Kaoru next. He was hunched over a pile of fishing gear, trying to reweave a shredded net while kids peeked out from behind crates and broken barrels. None of them were playing. Just watching. Still too quiet.
The fear hadn't left.
Not for them.
And definitely not for me.
I paused for a moment, stretching the soreness out of my shoulders, when a sharp pulse flickered in my mind—like the feeling of almost remembering a dream.
Then—
> [PROFICIENCY SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
Combat situation survived. Minimum stress threshold met. Tracking protocols initialized.
Monitored Fields:
— Strength
— Speed
— Perception
— Skill
I froze.
The words weren't spoken aloud, but I heard them. Or maybe felt them, like a current running through my nerves. They glowed faintly behind my eyes for a heartbeat before fading, leaving me breathless and half-dizzy.
My pulse quickened.
A system? Here?
I looked around. The wind rustled the trees. The sea sighed against the sand. Everything felt the same… but wasn't.
Some part of me—the part that had lived off games and strategy guides and stat sheets back in my old life—recognized what this meant.
A system. A tracker. A way to measure improvement. Not magic, not instant strength… but something real. Something stable.
It was subtle. Quiet. No bells and whistles. No blue screens floating in the air. Just a mental presence now stitched into my awareness.
> [Current Proficiency Levels]
— Strength: 7
— Speed: 6
— Perception: 7
— Skill: N/A
All four at the bottom. But still—there.
I exhaled slowly, chest tight. It wasn't much. But it was more than I'd had yesterday.
---
That afternoon, we called a village meeting. The mood was… hesitant. No one shouted. No one cried. We just stood around a half-loaded cart in the square, surrounded by broken wood and smoke-stained walls, talking in low, tired voices.
Jiro leaned on his harpoon like a cane, his face unreadable.
"They'll talk," he said at last. "Gero might've lost, but he'll run his mouth once he wakes up. Someone will hear about this. Someone stronger."
"We don't have Marines," Hana said. "We don't fly any flag. No one's coming to help us."
Someone murmured something about tribute. Another said maybe we should build deeper inland.
And me?
I stood there thinking about the words that had pulsed through my mind like a second heartbeat.
Strength. Speed. Perception. Skill.
They were mine now. Mine to improve.
"We need to build a lookout," I said finally. "Up on the cliffs. Somewhere high. If we can track ships before they reach the island, we'll have more time to react."
Everyone turned toward me.
Kaoru scratched at his neck. "Not a bad idea."
"It won't stop them," Hana said softly.
"No," I admitted. "But it might give us a chance."
Jiro gave me a long look—measuring, quiet—then gave a slow nod.
"Start there," he said. "It's not nothing."
---
That evening, I helped Kaoru mend nets near the edge of the pier. We didn't talk much—just worked with rope and wood, watched the sky darken over the waves.
At one point, I caught myself pausing mid-knot. My fingers still fumbled sometimes, but they moved a little faster than they had weeks ago. Muscle memory, maybe. Or maybe—
> [Skill: +1]
Simple Crafting (Basic Net Repair)
It flashed across my mind like a soft ping. Not dramatic. Not invasive.
But real.
I smiled, just a little.
"You ever get scared?" I asked him eventually, voice low.
Kaoru didn't look up. Just tightened the line.
"Of course."
"Even now?"
He paused. Then:
"Especially now."
We worked until the tide kissed our boots.
---
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Every time the wind shifted outside my hut, I tensed. My eyes traced the ceiling beams. I counted every breath. Every heartbeat. The ache in my ribs had dulled into something manageable, but the tension never left.
What if the next ones were worse?
What if they came with real power? Real names?
I'd read the stories. Watched the series. I knew what kind of monsters lived in this world—men who could split mountains with a glare, punch holes in the sea, warp fire and lightning with a snap of their fingers.
I wasn't one of them.
Not yet.
But maybe…
> [Speed: +1]
Evasion during Live Combat
> [Perception: +1]
Hostile Awareness during Combat Encounter
I stared at the ceiling and let out a shaky breath.
Maybe I could be something closer.
Not to chase treasure. Not to be king.
But to survive. To protect this place. These people.
I remembered Hana standing in front of her bakery with a rolling pin. Jiro, silent on the dock. Kaoru, throwing himself at a pirate with nothing but his fists. Kids hiding behind barrels.
They weren't soldiers. They weren't heroes.
But they mattered.
And if I was going to stay in this world—if I was going to live—I needed to be the kind of person who could stand for them.
The system was small. Quiet.
But it was hope.
Hope that I wasn't stuck. That I could grow.
That maybe, if I worked hard enough, I wouldn't just survive—I'd endure.
And if the next crew came storming onto these shores…
They'd find someone waiting for them.
Me.
To be continued…