Above the vast and boundless East Blue.
Seagulls soared through the open sky as waves crashed against the hull of a small wooden boat, drifting aimlessly across the sea. A lone figure sat within, a young man gripping the rudder with a frustrated expression.
"Damn it. Koshiro must have done this on purpose!" Rin muttered, staring at the empty space where a map should have been. The former disciple of the Isshin Dojo found himself lost at sea, cursed to rely solely on the whims of the ocean currents.
His supplies were meager—dried fish, biscuits, and a small flask of fresh water. He estimated he had enough provisions for four days. If he didn't find land by then, he might end up as the first transmigrator in history to die of starvation in One Piece's world.
Rin sighed and leaned back, the thought both frustrating and ironic.
Time passed slowly, the vast expanse of the sea offering little in terms of distractions. To break the monotony, he fastened a five-kilogram weighted jacket over his shoulders and began his usual training regimen—push-ups, sit-ups, and squats on the unsteady boat.
After four hours, his body was drenched in sweat. Taking a break, he reached for a biscuit, biting into the dry ration with little enthusiasm. Just as he swallowed, his sharp eyes caught sight of a dark silhouette in the distance.
A ship.
A pirate ship.
The black Jolly Roger fluttered in the wind, unmistakable even from afar. His eyes narrowed as the vessel approached, its massive hull dwarfing his tiny boat. He could already hear voices shouting from above.
"Hah! Finally, some entertainment."
As the ship drew closer, a rope ladder was tossed down, and several rough-looking pirates descended, weapons drawn. One of them, a scar-faced brute, stepped forward and sneered.
"Listen up, brat! If you don't want to die, hand over all your supplies."
Rin chuckled and stood, his hand reaching for the hilt of his blade. "That depends... do you have the strength to take them?"
With a swift motion, he drew Raijin, the blade glinting under the sun.
In an instant, he bent his knees and launched himself onto the pirate ship, his body propelled by explosive leg strength. The pirates barely had time to react before Rin vanished from sight.
"Soru!"
A blur. A flash of steel.
Before the first pirate could turn, blood sprayed from his neck, his body crumbling to the deck. A moment of stunned silence followed before their captain—a towering man clad in a tattered navy coat—roared in fury.
"You bastard! Kill him!"
The remaining pirates snapped out of their daze, brandishing cutlasses and pistols as they charged. Rin, however, remained calm. His gaze locked onto the true target—the captain himself.
"I know how this works," Rin murmured. "Take out the leader, and the rest will crumble."
With another burst of speed, Rin vanished from sight once more.
"Shave!"
By the time the captain sensed his presence, it was too late. Rin stood behind him, sword sheathed, poised for a quick draw.
"Iai: Nitoryu—Storm Fang!"
A streak of white energy carved through the air. A moment later, the captain's eyes widened in horror as his head separated from his body, rolling across the deck.
The remaining crew members froze, terror filling their faces. Unlike the loyal crewmates of the Straw Hat Pirates, these men had no intention of avenging their fallen leader. The moment they saw their strongest member fall, their will to fight shattered instantly.
Rin smirked, satisfied with the result.
"Alright, which of you is the navigator? Stand up."
A scrawny pirate stepped forward, trembling. "I-I am, sir."
"Good." Rin sheathed his blade, grinning. "Now, tell me—where's the nearest island?"