The Maritime Circle Calendar of the Year 1507
In a narrow alley, illuminated only by the dim light of the moon, sat a boy with light-colored hair. He stared at his small hands, examining his body with a mix of amazement and anxiety.
"Is this really me?" he whispered, unable to believe his eyes. "My body... How did it become so small?"
As soon as those words left his lips, fragments of memories pierced his consciousness. They rushed in like a tidal wave, washing away his past life, leaving only one realization—he was no longer who he used to be.
"I wasn't saved..."
He had been an ordinary seventeen-year-old guy. Living an unremarkable life: studying, training, watching anime. A third-year engineering student, building plans for the future… But it all ended in an instant. His death was absurd—someone had pushed him under the wheels of a car on a busy street. He never even saw who did it or why. So many hopes, so many dreams—gone in a blink of an eye.
But now, none of that mattered. There was only one important question—where was he now?
The moment this thought took shape in his mind, a flood of information struck him.
Notice.North Blue.Bellamy.The Fall.A Fruit.
Just a single moment—and darkness engulfed his consciousness.
When he awoke, he understood where he was and who he had become. His name was now Bellamy. He was an orphan, raised on the streets of the peaceful town of Notice in North Blue.
"Am I… in the world of One Piece?"
Judging by the information I received, I ended up in the world of One Piece—an anime that, in my world, was just an animation.
Come to think of it, the name Bellamy sounds oddly familiar.
The moment I pondered that, the memories surfaced—I remembered who Bellamy was.
A pirate who got knocked out by the main character with a single punch.
But now the question is—why did I end up in Bellamy's body?
And as if on command, I recalled eating an unknown fruit I had found in a trash bin near a fruit shop. After that, my legs had turned into springs, and I had slammed into a wall in the alley where I was now.
That death was even more pathetic than my previous one.
After that, I actually felt a little sorry for him.
But whatever, pitying him is pointless. He's gone now. There's only me—the new Bellamy.
Right now, I'm sitting in the alley, my head bleeding from the impact. I need to get out of here and find a place to hide, or people might come after hearing the noise.
Gathering my strength, I stood up and dragged myself to the place where I lived… or rather, where the previous Bellamy had lived.
My coordination was a bit off, but I figured it would stabilize soon.
After walking for a while, I reached a broken-down house with boarded-up windows and a wobbly door.
From my memories, I knew that I had found this place after being thrown out onto the streets.
Walking up to the door, I pushed it open with a creak and stepped inside. The place was dusty and filthy, with old belongings and a few books scattered around—things the previous owner had picked up from trash heaps and dumps.
But none of that mattered to me right now.
I headed to the corner of the room where, according to my memories, there was a half-full bottle of alcohol that the former owner of this body had found.
Finding it, I started searching for something to use as a bandage. Digging through the mess, I found a relatively clean white cloth.
Pouring the alcohol onto it and making sure it soaked in, I wrapped the cloth around my forehead where I had hit my head. It was at least some form of disinfection.
Even though people in this world can recover from serious injuries in just a day, I'm still from the 21st century, so I'd rather be cautious than die.
After bandaging myself up, I finally sat down on the bed. It was small, with an old mattress, but it was enough to sleep on.
Sprawled out on the bed, I started thinking about what to do next.
Panicking is useless—it won't help me, and it'll only set me back. I have to think rationally!
There are three main forces in this world:
The Marines
The Revolutionaries
The Pirates
I no longer feel like that seventeen-year-old boy. I don't know why, but those memories feel distant, like they aren't mine—as if I'm watching a movie rather than recalling my own life.
But even so, I can see the constraints that world placed on me. And I don't want that to happen again.
The Marines and Revolutionaries are bound by their own restrictions.
Out of all the options, the Pirates interest me the most.
I want to explore this entire world, to sail to the legendary island of Raftel.
That island is shrouded in mystery, and I'm genuinely curious to see it with my own eyes.
Thinking about it, I realized—I've always wanted to compete for the title of Pirate King against Luffy. That would be fun.
This is my second life, and I refuse to live it in mediocrity.
That's it! I want to defy fate and become the Pirate King before the main character does!
But to do that, I need to become strong—both individually and by gathering a powerful crew.
I remember that Luffy trained since childhood.
Right now, I'm six years old, which is the perfect age to start training.
Strangely, my memories of One Piece are filled with gaps.
There are clear moments I remember, but others are foggy.
That's a problem, but there's nothing I can do about it.
Still, I recall some of the Rokushiki techniques.
And I also have the Bane Bane no Mi Devil Fruit.
While Bellamy showed some abilities of this fruit in the main story, he barely developed it.
There are countless ways to enhance Devil Fruits—it all depends on the user.
Even Luffy came up with multiple applications for his "Rubber Paramecia".
Even if a Devil Fruit isn't inherently powerful, it should be a supplement to strength, not the sole source of it.
In the original story, Bellamy managed to learn Armament Haki on his own within two years, proving he had talent.
The growth of my Devil Fruit abilities depends entirely on my perseverance and creativity.
Several development ideas raced through my mind before I finally drifted off to sleep.