Renzo awoke to his first full morning after crossing over.
Sunlight streamed through the cracks of the wooden window, landing warmly on his face. In the distance, seagulls cried, and the rhythmic crashing of waves played on as always.
If it were before, his alarm would've already gone off three times, forcing him to drag himself out of bed, squeeze into a sardine-can subway, and rush to that suffocating office building.
But now…
He rolled over, burying his face into the straw-scented pillow and let out a satisfied sigh.
"Perfect."
All those codes, requirements, and project managers could go to hell.
His only goal in life now was simple, to lie flat forever.
However, even the greatest ideals require basic material support.
Like food.
Grrrrrrr…
A loud growl from his stomach shattered the tranquility.
The taste of that disgusting Devil Fruit from yesterday still lingered faintly on his tongue, bringing a wave of nausea, but his hunger urged him to act.
"…Such a hassle."
He didn't even bother to open his eyes and mumbled lazily.
Moving? Out of the question.
He'd never actively go hunting for food again in his life.
Remaining sprawled on the hay, he began to think, in a lazy, unfocused sort of way:
"Hungry… food… fruit… fall down… into my hand…"
It wasn't even a proper command, more like a half-hearted wish or complaint.
Not far outside the window stood a small tree with a few edible-looking fruits hanging on its branches.
A gentle breeze blew past, and one ripe fruit happened to loosen and fall.
But as it fell, its trajectory subtly, impossibly, shifted.
Instead of landing on the ground, it seemed to be guided by an invisible, drowsy force. It rolled across the threshold and stopped right next to Renzo's outstretched hand.
His fingers twitched, brushing against the cool, plump fruit.
He didn't even think twice, just figured he was lucky.
He lifted it lazily to his mouth and took a bite.
Sweet juice filled his mouth. It was enough to silence his hunger.
"…Water," he muttered after finishing the fruit.
His gaze wandered to an old wooden barrel in the corner; it still had half a bucket of water, with a wooden ladle beside it.
"…So far… can't be bothered…"
This time, his thought was clearer, more deliberate in its laziness. He stared at the ladle, strongly wishing it were closer.
Something strange happened.
The ladle trembled slightly. The space around it seemed to fold in for just a second.
In Renzo's view, the distance between him and the ladle warped oddly, as though a layer of frosted glass lay between them. It looked like it was still far away, yet somehow felt within reach.
He stretched out a hand experimentally.
His arm didn't lengthen, but his fingertips brushed the ladle's handle effortlessly. He grabbed it like it had always been there.
Renzo blinked, glancing at the ladle in his hand and then back at the bucket that looked unchanged.
"Oh?" His sluggish mind finally started to work.
"So this is… making space too lazy to function?"
'Not bad,' he thought drowsily.
With food and water handled, his soul of sloth was satisfied once again. He flopped back down, ready to resume his nap.
But trouble never knows when to quit.
A gray mouse appeared from somewhere, lured by the sweet scent of fruit, and began nibbling at a seed on the floor.
Its tiny sounds were quiet, but to Renzo's hyper-sensitive laziness, it was as noisy as a marching band.
"…Noisy…" He frowned, too lazy even to scold it, only feeling a strong wave of irritation rise within him.
"So noisy… quiet… let me sleep…"
The mouse, happily gnawing, suddenly froze.
Its beady little eyes lost focus, replaced by drowsiness.
It swayed twice, then slumped beside the fruit pit, letting out soft snores.
Peace returned.
Renzo's brow relaxed, as if nothing had happened.
By afternoon, the weather shifted, dark clouds gathered, and a downpour loomed.
The rain began pelting down in thick drops, drumming on the old wooden roof.
The roof had leaks, and soon, water began to seep through.
One cold droplet fell straight toward his forehead.
But before it could touch him, it hit an invisible, soft barrier.
The droplet's shape warped slightly, then slid off at an unnatural angle, missing his head and falling on the hay beside him.
Then the next droplet. And the next.
Each one that came close to him somehow bent away, diverted by the unseen "law of laziness." Soon, a dry patch surrounded his body while the rest of the room dampened.
Half-asleep, he smacked his lips and murmured, "…leaking… so wet… don't bother me…"
And the world obeyed.
So he kept eating, sleeping, and idly solving problems without lifting a finger, using powers he didn't fully control or understand.
He never tried to train or test the limits of his ability; that would be too exhausting, too troublesome.
Everything just happened naturally, as if the world itself bent around his laziness.
After a few days, he even thought he might've… gained some weight.
Over time, he pieced together the basics of his situation.
He'd crossed over to the year 1513 of the Sea Circle Calendar, seven years before the Summit War.
He inhabited the body of a 15-year-old orphan living on a small island in the West Blue.
The nearby town was called Maple Leaf Town, a lively little place. His body's former owner survived comfortably by doing odd jobs.
"Hm…" One evening, lying on his dry hay bed, watching the sunset bathe the room in gold, a thought drifted through his mind.
"Been eating fruit every day… kinda boring… if only I had… some grilled meat…"
The moment that thought arose, a distant roar echoed from outside, followed by a thud, something heavy tumbling down the hill, then silence.
Renzo perked an ear. Hearing nothing else, he buried his head back into the pillow.
"Forget it… grilling takes fire… too much trouble… fruit's fine…"
He perfectly convinced himself and threw the idea of a better meal out the window.
And so, each day began and ended in total laziness.
He knew nothing about this world, nor did he care to.
Time lost its meaning.
The sun rose and fell, the tides came and went, all just background wallpaper looping endlessly.
His life revolved around a single, pure principle: stay still, save energy, and persist eternally.
If he ever did anything, it was only to use that "lazy power" instinctively, to roll fruit to his hand, pull water closer, or make noisy creatures fall asleep.
He didn't know, nor care, how terrifying this power truly was. To him, it was merely a convenient perk for a more comfortable nap.
He didn't even want to think about how it worked, thinking itself was a hassle.
As long as trouble stayed far away, he'd gladly lie here until the end of the world.
But far out at sea… a large ship was heading toward Maple Leaf Town.
Its black flag bore the image of a snarling shark, a pirate crew, closing in fast.