Yashiro ruffled his already messy hair in irritation. For some reason, he just couldn't calm down. Every time he tried to think, all that filled his mind was Hanako's little face—her expression, her voice, everything.
"Hanako… what if something happened to her? What if that creepy, naked rampaging Nine-Tails attacked her? Ugh… so annoying!"
Finally unable to stand it, Yashiro jumped off the rock he'd been brooding on, ran toward the shoreline, and splashed icy seawater onto his face. The cold shock forced him to breathe slowly, trying to calm the storm inside.
Because somehow—without warning—he had transmigrated again.
And this time, as an ordinary person without any system, cheat, or golden finger, surviving in this far more dangerous pirate world was going to be absurdly difficult.
Worse yet, he had already discovered something terrifying:
The physical strength of the people in this world was insane—two to three times stronger than those in the Naruto world.
And he hadn't just arrived today; by his estimation, he had been in the world of One Piece for about a week.
During that entire week, he was unable to use ninjutsu. His chakra was sealed. And he was surrounded by danger.
Most of that danger came from… the bear kids.
It all started when Yashiro spotted a quiet, cute little girl being bullied by several rough, bratty children. As a self-proclaimed lover of adorable girls, he naturally couldn't stand by and watch.
Of course he jumped in to stop the spread of this evil.
To teach the brats a lesson about proper values, he used the iron fist of justice—and punched the toothless kid with the most punchable face right across the cheek.
Yashiro couldn't deny he felt satisfied. Even without chakra or ninjutsu, he still had the training of an elite shinobi. Taking down three little brats should have been easy, right?
Reality disagreed.
Brutally.
The three children were unbelievably strong, their reactions unnervingly fast. Before he could even finish posing like a hero saving a damsel, Yashiro found himself shoved to the ground and beaten senseless by all three.
"H-hey, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Don't hit my face! Please, not the face! I make my living with my face!"
Yashiro curled up, desperately shielding his head. These demon children weren't pulling their punches at all. One wrong hit to a vital spot and he'd die right there.
So he did everything in his power to protect his handsome face.
The would-be hero turned into a helpless punching bag in under ten minutes.
Yashiro was devastated. Why was the body he transmigrated into so pathetically weak?
And worse—
Why could he feel chakra inside himself, yet all of it was sealed?
The seal was unmistakable.
This sensation… was from Hyūga Hanako's Gentle Fist.
Yashiro wanted to cry.
This meant his transmigration was… ambiguous. Half soul travel, half physical travel. If he traveled physically, how did he turn into a child? But if he traveled spiritually, why did this body have chakra? And why was it sealed?
The conclusion he arrived at was bizarre:
He really did transmigrate physically, but during the process, his body seemed to… regress? Transform? Change into the form of a child.
Yashiro didn't have time to think deeply about it. He only wanted to escape from the claws of these three hellspawn.
"Hanako… you've killed your poor little husband…"
Tears welled in his eyes. His spirit and body were both taking critical damage.
"Let him go."
A soft yet calm voice drifted from behind.
The little girl who had been bullied earlier suddenly pressed her hands to her chest—and dozens of small arms sprouted from the brats' bodies, locking their joints in place.
Yashiro finally managed to breathe.
The children's limbs twisted into impossible shapes, far beyond what normal bodies should handle.
"gs＆hdkえd—(You monster! Let us go!)"
One of the brats, surprisingly muscular, struggled violently against the conjured arms.
The little girl seemed startled by his strength and clenched her hands more tightly.
With sharp, crisp cracks, the three children's joints seemed to pop loose. They collapsed limply on the sand, motionless.
Yet even then, they continued cursing at her through gritted teeth.
The girl ignored them. She was used to it. Hugging a book larger than her head, she walked toward Yashiro with gentle steps. Seeing him covered in injuries—his body bruised everywhere except his precious face—and muttering in a language she didn't recognize—
"Don't hit my face… I need my face to survive…"
—she couldn't help but burst into laughter. It seemed his face really meant the world to him.
Still, seeing someone stand up for her stirred a faint warmth in her heart, something she hadn't felt in a long time.
She knelt beside him, helped him sit up, and thanked him. Tilting her head curiously, she asked in her soft voice:
"Where are you from? I've never seen you before. You don't look like anyone from our island."
Yashiro froze.
Because the moment he looked at her—her straight black hair, thoughtful eyes, and the arms that sprouted from nowhere—he sucked in a sharp breath.
This little girl was Nico Robin from One Piece.
So he really had time-traveled again.
Thousands of stampeding bulls charged through his heart all at once.
Not because the world of One Piece was especially dangerous.
Not even because Ohara would soon be destroyed.
But because—
The language here… was completely different from Naruto's world.
"God… are you messing with me?!"
He was just a useless college student with mediocre grades, barely passing English!
He had been forced to learn the Naruto world's language, and now he had to learn One Piece language too?
"Are you trying to kill me?!"
He desperately tried using the language from his past life—Japanese he learned from anime. But Nico Robin just stared blankly, unable to understand a word.
Cornered, Yashiro had no choice but to use exaggerated gestures and sign language, miming that he had been in a shipwreck and washed ashore.
Explaining "I am a dimension-traveler" with body language was impossible.
And his frantic gestures only confused Robin even more.
Although her intelligence exceeded that of ordinary children, Yashiro's movements were simply too bizarre.
She pressed a hand to her book, furrowed her brow, deep in thought… and finally, finally, seemed to understand what he was trying to convey.
Seeing comprehension instead of pity in her eyes, Yashiro almost burst into tears.
It brought back memories of his first transmigration—when he used every possible gesture to communicate, only to be labeled mentally disabled by the ninjas of Konoha.
He remembered the days when he couldn't speak the Naruto language and was locked in a rundown house with other mentally disabled villagers.
What a nightmare.
(The last part of your text was the author's meta commentary about Devil Fruit mechanics. I preserved its meaning but rewrote it naturally.)
Some say that the reason Devil Fruit users weaken in hot springs (in certain movies) is because hot spring water isn't truly "fresh" water. It's mineral-rich, almost like seawater. By this logic, Devil Fruit users only truly lose power in seawater, but still can't swim in any water.
This novel assumes Yashiro has traveled into a parallel One Piece world, so minor variations in mechanics may exist.