Drake spent the next two days in a relentless cycle of training and recovery.
Each morning brought the Daily Quest, and each morning Drake pushed himself through it despite his body's protests. Natural Recovery Lv.2 proved to be a game-changer wounds that should have taken weeks to heal were gone in days.
By day five on the island, Drake's chest bore only faint scars where the tiger's claws had torn him open.
[HP: 140/140]
[Level: 6]
[Power: 29] [Speed: 29] [Durability: 26]
But the jungle had given him all it could. He'd hunted every dangerous creature within his range, completed his daily quests religiously, and explored every corner of the island's interior.
Or so he'd thought.
On the morning of day six, Drake stood at the edge of his mapped territory, staring at a section of jungle he'd deliberately avoided. The trees there grew denser, the canopy thicker, and something about it had always felt… different.
Not dangerous. Just *occupied*.
"Time to find out what's over there," Drake muttered, checking his inventory. His hunting knife was sharp, his supplies were restocked with preserved meat and fruit, and his stats were higher than ever.
He was ready.
The jungle swallowed him whole within minutes.
The vegetation here was almost aggressive in its density vines that seemed to deliberately block his path, roots that grabbed at his feet, branches that hung low enough to force him to duck constantly. But Drake pressed forward, his Analysis Eye highlighting the safest routes.
After an hour of hiking, the jungle began to change.
The trees here showed signs of deliberate pruning. Stumps where branches had been cut, not broken. A path faint but undeniable worn into the earth by regular foot traffic.
Drake's hand drifted to his knife.
People.
He moved more carefully now, keeping low, using his enhanced speed to move silently between the trees. The path widened gradually, and then
Voices.
Drake dropped into a crouch behind a thick ironbark trunk, his heart pounding. He activated Analysis Eye, pushing it to its maximum range.
Through the trees ahead, he could see buildings.
Not huts or crude shelters actual wooden structures with thatched roofs, arranged in a rough circle around a central square. Smoke rose from chimneys. Laundry hung on lines. Children's laughter echoed between the houses.
A village.
Drake's mind raced. He'd been on this island for nearly a week, assuming it was deserted except for wildlife. But there had been people here the whole time, just on the opposite side of the island from where he'd washed ashore.
Should have explored more thoroughly, he chided himself.
He watched the village for several minutes, using Analysis Eye on anyone who came into view:
[Target: Male Villager]
Level: 2
Threat Level: Minimal
Occupation: Fisherman
[Target: Female Villager]
Level: 1
Threat Level: None
Occupation: Unknown
These were civilians. Normal people trying to live normal lives in a world of pirates and marines.
Drake was about to reveal himself when a different figure caught his attention a man standing near the village entrance, watching the path Drake had just traveled. Unlike the others, this one carried himself differently.
[Analysis Eye activated]
[Target: Marcus "Ironjaw" ]
Level: 8
Threat Level: Medium
Occupation: Retired Pirate
Abilities: Enhanced Strength, Combat Experience
Retired pirate. That explained the alertness. Drake studied the man more carefully grizzled, probably in his fifties, with a scar running along his jaw and the kind of weathered look that came from years at sea.
Drake made a decision. He couldn't hide forever, and if he was going to eventually leave this island, he'd need to interact with people. Better to do it on his terms.
He stood up and walked out of the jungle.
The reaction was immediate. Marcus's hand went to a weapon at his belt a short cutlass and his eyes locked onto Drake with the kind of focus that came from genuine combat experience.
"That's far enough, boy," Marcus called out, his voice rough as gravel. "State your business."
Drake raised his hands, showing he was unarmed. Well, mostly unarmed the knife was in his inventory, but they didn't need to know that.
"Just a traveler," Drake said, keeping his voice calm and friendly. "Washed up on the south beach about a week ago. Didn't know anyone else was on this island until today."
Marcus didn't lower his guard, but something in his posture relaxed slightly. "South beach? That's over ten kilometers from here through dense jungle. You're telling me you've been surviving out there alone for a week?"
Drake shrugged, very aware of the multiple villagers now watching from doorways and windows. "Didn't have much choice. It's been… educational."
Marcus's eyes narrowed, and Drake could practically see him doing the math. A seventeen-year-old kid, alone in a jungle full of predators, not only surviving but apparently thriving enough to cross the entire island on foot.
"What's your name, traveler?"
"Drake." He hesitated for just a moment, then added, "Drake D. Carter."
Marcus studied Drake for a long moment, then seemed to come to a decision. He lowered his hand from his cutlass and jerked his head toward the village.
"Come on then, Drake D. Carter. Let's get you fed and cleaned up. You look like you've been fighting a war out there."
Drake glanced down at himself his clothes were torn and stained with blood and dirt, his dreads were tangled with leaves and debris, and the scars on his chest were visible through the tears in his shirt.
"Something like that," he admitted.
As Drake followed Marcus into the village, he pulled up a notification that had appeared:
[New Quest: Village Integration]
[Objective: Gain the trust of the villagers]
[Reward: Information, Supplies, +100 XP]
The village was smaller than it had looked from the jungle maybe thirty buildings total, housing probably seventy or eighty people.
Everyone Drake passed stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
Marcus led him to a larger building near the center a tavern, from the looks of it, though calling it that was generous. More like a common house where people gathered to eat and drink.
"Sit," Marcus ordered, pointing to a rough wooden bench. "Maya! Get this boy some food and water."
A woman in her forties appeared from the back, took one look at Drake, and immediately went into what Drake recognized as mother-hen mode.
Within minutes, he had a plate of fish and rice in front of him, a mug of fresh water, and Maya was already fussing about getting him clean clothes.
Drake ate gratefully while Marcus sat across from him, studying him like a puzzle to be solved.
"So," Marcus said finally. "Drake D. Carter. You going to tell me how a kid with the name D ends up washed ashore on Kokumo Island?"
Kokumo Island. Good to know where I am.
"Honestly?" Drake said between bites. "I'm not entirely sure. Last thing I clearly remember is being on a ship that ran into a storm. Next thing I know, I'm spitting up seawater on your beach."
It wasn't exactly a lie. He *had* woken up on a beach with no clear memory of how he got there. He just left out the parts about transmigration and game systems.
Marcus grunted. "Storm's been known to wreck ships in these waters. You're lucky you made it to shore at all." He paused. "Though based on those scars, I'd say your luck's been mixed at best."
"It was from a Razorclaw tiger," Drake said simply. "
Marcus's eyebrows rose. "You fought a razorclaw and lived? Those things are nasty pieces of work."
"So I discovered." Drake finished his fish and pushed the plate aside. "Look, I appreciate the food and the hospitality, but I should probably know is there a way off this island? I've got… places I need to be."
"Direct. I like that." Marcus leaned back, crossing his arms. "There's a merchant ship that stops here once a month. Trades supplies for fish and whatever else we've got. They're due… oh, two days from now, actually."
Two days. Drake could work with that.
"In the meantime," Marcus continued, "you're welcome to stay in the village. We don't get many visitors, especially not ones carrying the name D. I'm sure folks will be curious."
[Quest Update: Village Integration]
[Continue interacting with villagers to complete quest]
Drake spent the rest of the day being introduced to what felt like every person in the village.
Maya got him cleaned up and into fresh clothes simple pants and a shirt that actually fit, though he kept his silver earrings and let his dreads hang loose with their distinctive red streak.
He met Tomas, the village elder, who asked careful questions about where Drake was from and where he was going. Drake kept his answers vague but friendly.
He met Sarah, a girl about his age who seemed fascinated by his scars and kept asking about his adventures in the jungle.
He met Old Man Hiroshi, who claimed to have sailed the Grand Line thirty years ago and still had stories that made the children gather around wide-eyed.
And through it all, Drake's Analysis Eye quietly cataloged information:
[Village: Kokumo]
[Population: 73]
[Primary Income: Fishing, some farming]
[Notable: Retired pirates, former marines, people avoiding attention]
[Threat Level: Minimal]
This was a hideaway, Drake realized. A place where people came when they wanted to disappear from the world. No Marine presence, no government oversight, just people trying to live quiet lives.
By the time the sun set, Drake had been offered a room above the tavern and had gained a decent understanding of the village's dynamics.
As he lay in an actual bed for the first time in a week, Drake pulled up his status:
[Status Window]
[Name: Drake D. Carter]
[Level: 6]
[Title: Beast Slayer]
Stats:
[Power: 29]
[Speed: 29]
[Durability: 26]
[Haki: 5 (LOCKED)]
[HP: 140/140]
Active Quests:
• Village Integration (In Progress)
• Warrior's Path (6/20)
• Daily Quest (Available)
Two days until the merchant ship arrived. Two days to prepare for whatever came next.
Drake smiled at the ceiling. Things were finally starting to move forward.
Tomorrow, he'd continue building trust with the villagers. And when that merchant ship arrived?
Well, he'd see what opportunities presented themselves.
The wind outside his window seemed to whisper in response, and Drake felt that same strange resonance he'd noticed on his first day like something was waiting to be awakened.
End of Chapter 4