A crisp breeze, the open sea, the rising sun.
A chill mist blanketed the horizon, soft and pale. Morning light filtered through the wisps of cloud, scattering across the ocean's surface in shimmering waves.
Seabirds called incessantly over the endless blue, and now and then, one would dive like a fighter jet, plunging into the water and emerging triumphantly with a wriggling fish in its beak.
Even the sharpest hunters miss sometimes. There were always a few unlucky birds who never resurfaced.
Maybe they hadn't checked the almanac before heading out today.
While not an extraordinary scene by any stretch, it was more than enough to excite Kouta and his crew, still fresh to life at sea.
Creak—!
The wooden cabin door groaned as it swung open, startling the seabird perched above, who was busy preening its feathers.
Out stepped a plump man in a crisp white chef's coat and glasses, a tray balanced in his left hand. On it sat two glasses of freshly made juice.
He caught sight of Kouta reclining at the prow in a deck chair and hurried over, placing the glasses on the small table beside him.
"Kouta, give this lemon-apple juice a try. Just made it."
"Thanks, Ahua."
Kouta set aside the navigation book in his hands and offered Ahua a warm, appreciative smile.
Just then, a head with a flamboyant, punk-rock hairstyle popped out from the edge of the crow's nest.
"Ahua! Where's my juice?!"
Ahua calmly adjusted his glasses and looked up. "It's in the kitchen. If you want it, get it yourself. What do you think this is—room service? You're not Kouta or Kuina."
"You're the cook! You're supposed to take care of us fighters!"
The punk—Aluo—climbed swiftly down the mast, landing in the middle of the deck with a loud challenge.
A vein twitched on Ahua's temple. He charged forward, straight at Aluo and his ridiculous leather pants.
"You wanna throw hands, huh?!"
He reminded himself they were already out at sea—he needed to stay calm, be mature.
But Aluo had a way of pushing his buttons. Always had.
From the second floor, a youth with plump lips and a denim get-up stepped out—cowboy hat, denim jacket, jeans. If not for his stout figure, he might have passed for a real cowboy.
He quickly descended the stairs and got between the two.
"Come on, you two. You've been bickering since childhood. You're at sea now—can't you give it a rest?"
"Stay out of it, A'tao."
"I'm gonna teach this guy once and for all who's the second-strongest on this ship!"
Ahua rolled up his sleeves, ready to throw down.
A'tao could only sigh.
All this fire just to be second place. Why don't they ever challenge Kuina if they're so eager to prove themselves?
As if summoned by the mention of her name—Kuina appeared.
She emerged from below deck in a soft pink kimono and slippers, her long dark-blue hair still damp. She was drying it with a towel as she strolled past the group.
She glanced at them—just a glance.
But that was enough.
The three of them snapped to attention like misbehaving students caught by the teacher.
Aluo and Ahua, who had been forehead to forehead a moment ago, suddenly locked arms like best friends—left shoulder to right shoulder in a buddy-buddy pose.
They weren't afraid of each other. Not even of Kouta. But Kuina? They were terrified of her.
Each had grown up under her fists—traumatized into obedience.
If Zoro hadn't shown up later in their lives, their suffering might've lasted even longer.
Only after Kuina reached the bow did the trio exhale collectively, wiping away cold sweat.
Still locked in their awkward embrace, Aluo and Ahua suddenly realized they were still clinging to each other.
They recoiled in disgust, scrambling apart like they'd touched something foul. With synchronized scowls, they spat on the deck and turned their heads in opposite directions.
"Ugh—!"
"Disgusting!"
A'tao sighed, watching them.
I'm the third-strongest on this ship, yet I never get scenes this dramatic.
He shook his head, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it with a flick, and took a long drag. With practiced flair, he blew a perfect smoke ring.
Chin held high, he swaggered past Ahua and Aluo, heading below deck.
Was the juice good?
Absolutely.
Tangy and sweet. Delicious.
Kouta lay lazily in his chair, swirling the juice in his glass before taking a sip.
Watching the antics below, he couldn't help but smile.
Ahua truly had a gift for cooking. He'd been a chubby kid obsessed with food since forever—no amount of sword training at the dojo could slim him down.
He'd gone on to inherit his family restaurant, quickly earning a reputation in the region before they ever set sail.
When Kouta first invited him to join the crew, Ahua flatly refused.
"Why give up good food and comfort to suffer at sea?" he'd said.
In the end, it was Kuina who convinced him.
Whatever methods she used, Ahua had shown up the next day with a black eye and a bruised face, begging to be let onboard.
Pitiful.
Still, seeing how earnest he was, Kouta had reluctantly agreed.
What Ahua didn't know was that Kouta had casually, maybe even accidentally, mentioned the idea to Kuina in passing.
Now, watching Ahua from his chair, Kouta couldn't hide a smirk of triumph.
As for Aluo… no one quite knew what happened to him over the years to turn him into a wannabe rockstar.
Probably love.
He'd nearly gone through with an arranged marriage not long ago.
But the moment he heard Kouta was heading out to sea, he'd rushed to pull A'tao—who was about to inherit his family's shipyard and become a local "Sea King"—and the two had run straight to Koushiro.
When Koushiro approached Kouta, he'd been racking his brain for a way to find a ship.
Talk about perfect timing. Like rain after a drought.
He agreed on the spot.
Sure, maybe he needed A'tao's shipbuilding skills. And maybe A'tao's family offered a major discount. But that was totally unrelated.
Kouta then burned through his and Kuina's savings from the past few years—and borrowed millions of Berries from Koushiro—just to pay off the ship's cost.
And that was with the family only charging for materials.
A transmigrator borrowing money to build a ship. What a disgrace.
He silently offered an apology to every transmigrator who came before him.
The ship was a sleek schooner with a triangular sail on the aft mast and a center rudder. Its figurehead was shaped like a sheep's head.
Why a sheep?
Of course—to pay homage to the Going Merry!
What One Piece fan didn't dream of having their own Merry?
Not only that, he'd even set up an orchard onboard. Just like Nami's tangerine grove—but with lemon trees instead.
Above deck, the rear housed a two-story cabin—kitchen below, helm and lounge above.
Below deck were the bedrooms, storage, and bathroom.
Like the Merry, the ship had no wheel. It used a tiller system—pushing left or right to turn the rudder and steer.
As for cannons? Kouta thought they were either useless up close or too inaccurate at long range—his sword techniques had better range anyway.
So, he only installed one heavy cannon in the forward cabin. None on the sides.
That saved space and lightened the load, making the ship faster and nimbler.
The forward cabin also stored the anchor winch and other seafaring essentials.
Kouta's eyes swept across the deck as he pondered.
Aluo—lookout.
A'tao—helmsman and shipwright.
Ahua—cook.
And himself—navigator.
He'd read more nautical books than he could count over the years. While he couldn't match someone like Nami, he had enough knowledge to handle most natural disasters.
Besides, his spatial domain could now expand to twenty meters—plenty of room to fly with the ship in tow if needed.
Hmm… what's missing?
Suddenly, his eyes lit up with realization.
Ah right. A doctor.
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Hey everyone! I'll be dropping an extra 1 chapter once we hit 100, 200, 300 power stones! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to spend some power stones. I'd really appreciate the support. Thanks a bunch!