The morning sun invaded the small room like an unwelcome intruder, its sharp rays slicing through the curtainless window and landing directly on Enryu's face. He grimaced before even opening his eyes, the muscles in his neck tensing in protest against the offensive light. When he finally pried them open, he was met with a blurry world of white and gold—and in an instant, he shut them again, muttering under his breath.
'What idiot puts a bed under a window without curtains?'
His head still throbbed with the remnants of that dull ache that had lingered since he'd blacked out. With an exaggerated—almost dramatic—sigh, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, his muscles responding with irritating sluggishness, as if his body was still remembering how to function.
Creeeak!
The bedroom door swung open with a distinctive groan, revealing an elderly man—yet one with an upright posture, broad shoulders, and hands calloused from a life at sea. His eyes, deep and kind, sparkled with a mix of concern and curiosity. Despite his age, there was a contained energy about him, as if years of hard labor had forged not just his body but also a peculiar serenity.
"Young man! Good to see you awake!"
The old fisherman's voice was rough but warm, like the sound of waves lapping against the hull of an old boat.
Enryu blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, before answering with an easygoing, almost casual smile:
"Thanks. I passed out right after waking up—I must have worried you too much, huh?"
The old man laughed, a rough and sincere sound that echoed through the modest room.
"I thought you were going to die," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with one wrinkled hand. "But when I saw you were still breathing right after I brought you here, I stopped worrying so much, kid."
Enryu looked around, finally taking in his surroundings. The room was simple—a worn wooden bed, a small table with an oil lamp, and wooden walls marked by salt and time. Through the window, the blue sky of East Blue stretched endlessly, and the smell of sea salt filled the air.
"So, you're the one who saved me..." he murmured, more to himself than to the fisherman.
The old man nodded, his narrow eyes crinkling into a calm smile.
"Wasn't anything anyone else wouldn't have done. But tell me... what was a young man like you doing inside that coffin?"
The question hung in the air, heavy as the lid of those black artifacts. Enryu hesitated for a second—not for lack of an answer, but because, deep down, he wasn't entirely sure himself.
And then, with a smile that didn't quite reach his red eyes, he replied:
"Well... that's a long story."
Enryu left the words hanging in the air, his casual smile masking the haze of doubt clouding his thoughts. His fingers drummed lightly on the rough mattress of the bed, as if searching for some kind of answer in the coarse fabric.
The old fisherman leaned forward, his keen eyes scrutinizing every microexpression on the young man's face. The wrinkles on his face deepened with interest, his gnarled fingers interlacing over his knees as he waited for the continuation.
"That I don't thank."
Baam!
The old man fell backward onto the floor with an impact that shook the wooden planks, his arms splaying out to the sides like a scarecrow toppled by the wind. Enryu's eyes widened, his red pupils contracting in pure shock.
'What the hell?! Why did he fall like that?!'
The scene was so abrupt that for a brief moment, Enryu froze, his brain struggling to process what had just happened. The old man lay there, stretched out on the floor like a fish out of water, his wide eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"Are you okay?!"
Enryu jumped off the bed, adrenaline instantly dissolving any trace of drowsiness. His knees hit the floor beside the fisherman, his hands hovering over the old man's body, unsure where to touch. To his bewilderment, the old man wasn't hurt—not even a scratch.
"I'm just… shocked by your… amnesia."
The old man sat up with a grunt, rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the floor. His eyes narrowed, studying Enryu with a mix of disbelief and concern.
"Jahahaha! Sorry, but can you tell me where I am?"
Enryu's laughter echoed through the small room, a carefree sound that contrasted with the whirlwind of questions in his mind.
"Ah, you're on Fisherman Island."
Enryu furrowed his brow, his face twisting into genuine confusion. Fisherman Island? The name meant absolutely nothing to him.
"Ah... are we in Indonesia?"
The old fisherman had grizzled eyebrows, his face twisting into a puzzled grimace.
"What d'you mean, Indonesia, boy? We're in the East Blue."
'East... Blue...?'
Something clicked in Enryu's mind. A silent snap, like the fitting of a puzzle piece he hadn't even known was missing. His crimson eyes widened slightly, the ring around his pupils seeming to glow for a fleeting instant.
'East Blue... Could it be...'
"Old man, could you show me my coffin?"
"Sure."
The fisherman groaned as he straightened up, his bones creaking like the deck of an old ship. Enryu followed him through the small house, his bare feet feeling the chill of the salt-worn wooden planks. They passed a tiny kitchen where the smell of dried fish and seaweed hung thick in the air, then stepped through a back door that protested with a screech.
There, under the shade of a lone palm tree, lay the coffin.
Enryu stood still for a moment, his eyes tracing every detail of the black object that inexplicably felt like his own. The afternoon sun glinted off its golden ornaments, making them shimmer like stars in a night sky.
"You hauled this old thing here? How?"
The old fisherman crossed his arms, his chest swelling with pride.
"I may be an old man, but that doesn't mean I'm weak, youngster."
"Noted, Jahahahaha!"
Enryu's laughter echoed across the deserted beach, mingling with the sound of waves crashing against the shore. He moved away from the coffin, his footsteps leaving faint impressions in the damp sand. As he drew near, he knelt, his hands resting on the varnished surface before finally touching the wood.
It was cold. Strangely cold, considering it had been under the scorching sun for hours.
With careful movement, Enryu leaned forward to peer inside. The coffin was absurdly spacious—large enough to fit two people lying side by side. The interior was lined with a deep red velvet so rich it seemed to absorb light, giving the impression of a scarlet abyss. The lid, as massive as Enryu remembered, was as thick as two stacked bricks, and the symbol of the sun within the pentagram appeared to watch him, its golden edges almost pulsating in the twilight.
'Could it be... Is there something inside?'
His fingers traced the soft velvet, gently searching for irregularities, hidden compartments, anything that might explain why it was there. The fabric was flawless, without tears or stains, as if it had been placed there just yesterday.
And then, in the farthest corner, nearly hidden between the side and the bottom, his fingers brushed against something.
A small protrusion. Almost imperceptible.
Enryu's heart raced.
The old fisherman's rough voice cut through the air like a knife, snapping Enryu back to reality.
"I turned everything upside down when I pulled you out of there, boy. All I had was you—and that ghastly mattress."
The old man crossed his arms, his time-worn face creasing into a skeptical frown. His narrow eyes tracked Enryu's every move, as if expecting the young man to give up on his futile search.
But Enryu didn't respond. His fingers kept probing the hidden edges of the lining, methodically pressing every inch of the red velvet. There was something there—he knew it.
Click.
The sound was almost imperceptible, but to Enryu, it echoed like thunder. A hidden mechanism shifted beneath the upholstery, and suddenly, with a soft snap, the false bottom of the coffin loosened, revealing a secret compartment.
The old fisherman took a step back, his eyes widening like twin moons in the dark night.
"By the love of the sea..."
Inside the compartment lay three objects, shielded beneath a fine layer of dust that glimmered in the fading twilight:
A fruit—spherical, the size of a small melon, its opaque rind a deep shade of amethyst. Intricate spiral patterns covered its surface like pulsing veins, and at the top, a curling stem with a nearly fluorescent fuchsia rose twisted like a slumbering serpent.
A katana—its sheath black as jet, worn by time yet still exuding an aura of danger. The hilt was wrapped in faded cloth, and the guard, simple yet elegant, bore battle scars that whispered silent tales.
An ancient map—yellowed with age, its edges frayed as if it had been unfolded and refolded countless times. Water stains blotched the parchment, but the lines and routes were still visible, leading to an unknown destination.
A sealed letter—the blood-red wax seal remained unbroken, stamped with a symbol that made Enryu's heart race: a crown wreathed in flames, as if the fire itself were devouring it.
Enryu didn't hesitate. His hands, almost of their own will, reached for the fruit. The moment he touched it, an electric jolt of recognition surged through his body.
'No doubt about it... I... I've transmigrated into One Piece!'
The old fisherman choked, his face pale with shock.
"What the hell is this?!"
Enryu barely heard him. His fingers were already pulling out the card, turning it under the golden light of the setting sun. On the back, an inscription in faded letters—almost erased by time—made his blood run cold:
"For the only one who can bear my burden—the true heirs of D."
The air around him seemed to grow heavier. The wind stilled. Even the waves fell silent for a moment.
And then, as if answering an ancient call, Enryu's eyes—crimson with their sinister rings—glowed with an inner light.
"Old man..." Enryu spoke, his voice now carrying a resolve that hadn't been there before. "Do you have a boat?"
The fisherman stared at the young man, then at the objects, and finally at the distant horizon. Something in that question—in that moment—made him realize his quiet life on the island would never be the same again.
And, against all logic, he answered.
"I do. And I think you're going to need it."