"There is no ship in the New World that can carry me!"
"I don't belong to a pirate crew, and I won't be a tool for the World Government. What should I do? I'm helpless too!"
"Die! Nine mountains and eight seas, those who have no self, three thousand worlds!"
The girl Vivi lay asleep, her long aqua-blue hair tousled wildly across the pillow. Her light blue Alabasta-style cloak lay discarded on the floor like a crumpled flag. Her red lips muttered cryptic phrases only a few in Wano or the Grand Line might understand. Her hands waved the pillow like a kunai in a Genin's nightmare sparring session, clearly dreaming.
"Quack? Quack! Quack... quack?!…" Karoo, her loyal Spot-Billed Super Duck, sat beside her with a sigh that could only be described as deeply human. What now?
He picked up a frying pan, peered into the reflective base, then glanced at Vivi's serene forehead. He mimed the motion of striking, paused thoughtfully mid-air, then sighed again and put the pan aside like a seasoned companion refusing violence.
To wake his master the peaceful way, he waddled off, returned with a fresh spring onion from the galley, and gently tapped Vivi's cheek with the leafy green part.
"Not now... no more exams…" Vivi mumbled as she rolled over, turning her back to her determined pet.
Undeterred, Karoo circled her to the other side, quacking softly in a rising tone—an offbeat lullaby of sorts—and nudged her with his wings. Once. No movement. Twice. Still nothing. And yet, somewhere in his duck brain, he decided this was fun. A game called Wake Up the Royal Sleephead.
He tossed a crumpled bounty flyer at her from a distance, then ducked behind a bookshelf like a Marine spy hiding from CP0, his long neck peeking out, scanning for results.
No response.
So, Karoo deployed his ultimate weapon: a piece of dried Grand Line silverfish, sacred snack of seafaring pets. He waved it beneath Vivi's nose. The result?
Wham.
Vivi, half-asleep and seemingly channeling a monk from Myoboku Mountain, punched reflexively with a technique she'd been murmuring in her dreams: "Pseudo… Three... Thousand... World... Slash!"
A quarter-hour later, the princess finally stirred. Her fingers touched her cheek. She sniffed. "Huh…? Why do I smell scallions? Karoo, did you sneak green onions into the room again?"
The duck had already hidden the evidence. The pan, the paper ball, the dried fish—all cleared as if erased by Kuma's paws. He looked around innocently, eyes wide like a seasoned imposter, tilting his head as if to say, Onions? In this economy?
Vivi squinted at his swollen beak. "Karoo... your face is puffy. Who hit you? Tell me! I'll get Zoro to avenge you!"
Karoo stared flatly. Who hit me? Really?
Instead of answering, he flopped dramatically to the floor and began mimicking her sleep-fighting antics, swinging an invisible pillow with exaggerated flair.
Vivi froze, then chuckled awkwardly. "Ah... Nightmares, huh? Lots of stress. That's normal, right? Heh... heh…"
Now that she was finally awake, Karoo wasn't letting her off easy. He began babbling at her in duck-speak, wings flapping rhythmically like a bard telling an epic saga. Miraculously, Vivi deciphered the gist—his stern lecture to get out of bed and entertain him.
"What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Quack! Quack!" the duck quacked in reply, translating in her mind as: Past noon, you slacker!
"It's already the afternoon?! I actually slept two whole hours?! Why didn't anyone call me for lunch… Ugh, traitors!" Vivi stretched, her fitted yellow cap with blue racing stripes sliding askew. She adjusted her goggles, and sat cross-legged, facing Karoo, who now sported a small wooden barrel tied around his chest.
"The entrustment time is over? Looks like the haul wasn't bad," she said, eyeing him.
Karoo nodded furiously. He'd been taken over by that odd panel interface again, running across the village like a duck on fire. Two hours of grinding for passive loot. Still confused by the system? Yes. But results? Yes!
"Nice!" Vivi snapped her fingers.
Karoo's heart swelled with pride as she smiled, and in return, she pulled out a bucket of chilled water—her secret refreshment cache from under the bookshelf.
"Drink up!" she offered with dramatic flair. "Ice water! Classic. Only I know the true meaning of this."
Karoo drank with gusto, then sat back with a ducky burp of contentment.
The plug-in system that had attached to her wasn't something from the Germa Kingdom or Vegapunk's vault. It was stranger. A floating panel that no one else could see. She'd examined it dozens of times over the past two weeks, trusting Karoo with the control when it activated.
No tutorials. No introductions. Just trial and error. And a duck who seemed unusually good at gaming the system.
The world of One Piece was far too dangerous. Luffy might've had Dragon and Garp in his corner, but without them? Loguetown would've been his funeral pyre. "Dying before joining a crew" wasn't just a gag—it was a real threat.
Weiwei, or rather Vivi, had a plan: lie low, grind, and climb the ladder until she reached at least the level of a Roronoa Zoro or a Vista. Then—and only then—would she take to the seas.
"No one understands the world of pirates like me…" she whispered with conviction. "We need to survive first. Karoo, bulk up. It's about to get hard."
From a side compartment, she summoned a tray of colorful jelly—sparkling like sea prism stones but far tastier.
Karoo, drooling, chose a star-shaped jelly and gobbled it down, patting his belly proudly afterward.
He thumped his chest with one wing. "Quack!" I'm a duck among men! Leave everything to me!
"Ha! You're so reliable! Come here, let me ruffle that head!"
"Quack-quack!"
"You're the best duck in the four blues!"
Though Karoo sensed his master had shifted slightly since they left Alabasta, he welcomed it. She was tougher now, funnier too. And she still loved him like always.
After goofing off for a while, Vivi pushed him gently aside. "Time to focus."
Karoo waddled away with his jelly prize as Vivi turned her attention to the panel interface. This two-hour auto-run had earned her 13 glowing light spots—each labeled with skill types.
She scrolled through:
Sword +1
Sword +1
Firearm +1
Medical +1
Slashing +1
Cooking +1
Ship Repair +1
Ship Repair +1
Swordsmanship +1
Swordsmanship +1
Cooking +1
Navigation +1
Swordsmanship +1
Thirteen total. Seven were combat-related. Not bad. Still, she knew that true power wasn't built in a day. She needed hundreds, even thousands, to compete with the likes of Daz Bones or CP9 assassins.
But freebies were freebies, and she wasn't about to complain.
"Slow and steady," she muttered. "Today sword +1… tomorrow, world-breaking slash."
And maybe one day… she'd finally confront the fate she ran from, in both Alabasta and the Grand Line.