Ling was an ordinary boy, living an ordinary life. Right now, he was on a plane, hoping to take a break from the world—hoping to finally feel alive.
His dream had always been to travel the world: hopping from place to place, trying new foods, immersing himself in different cultures.
On his way to Japan, he brought along his favorite manga, One Piece. No matter how many times he read it, it never failed to make him smile.
Suddenly, the plane began to shake. Ling instinctively grabbed the armrest, trying to steady himself.
"What's going on?" he muttered.
The pilot's voice crackled over the intercom, echoing through the cabin.
"We're currently experiencing turbulence. Everyone, please remain calm."
But Ling could tell something was wrong.
There was a strain in the pilot's voice that sent a chill down his spine. He turned to the window beside him—and his heart nearly stopped.
One of the plane's wings was on fire.
"Oh my God..."
His chest tightened with fear.
He knew exactly what was happening—and what was about to happen.
He closed his eyes. His body trembled violently, but he forced a small, bitter smile.
"I guess this is it..."
"Better tha—"
His words were swallowed by a deafening boom.
As his consciousness slipped away, the screams and cries of the other passengers faded. The sounds dissolved into nothingness—along with his life.
"What a shitty life..."
Bright clouds drifted across the sky. The cries of seagulls echoed above, mingling with the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore.
Lying motionless on the beach, at the docking area for fishermen, a child had washed ashore—unconscious.
It was early morning, but the sun was already at its peak.
At the dock, a fisherman preparing to set sail caught sight of the figure on the sand. His eyes widened in alarm.
"The storm last night was something else… what?!"
The boy's lips were cracked and dry from the heat. His shirt was stained with dried blood, and bruises marked his arms and legs.
The fisherman sprinted across the sand, his heart pounding. He knelt beside the boy, then carried him up in his arms and ran toward the village.
His name was Gyoru, a middle-aged fish vendor known to everyone in the village.
He had black hair, a receding hairline, and a spiky tuft on top of his head.
"Mayor!"
Gyoru shouted as he approached a house.
Villagers turned at the commotion. Worry flickered across their faces when they saw an unconscious child in Gyoru's arms. They quickly made way.
"Gyoru, bring him in quickly!" the mayor called out, holding the door open.
Gyoru carried the boy inside and gently laid him on a bed.
"Go find Makino," the mayor said gravely.
"Tell her to bring warm and cool water, a clean cloth, and a change of clothes."
The mayor—Woop Slap, elder of Foosha Village—turned his attention to the boy.
He examined the child's injuries, frowning.
The boy reminded him of Luffy—a wild, stubborn kid who'd left the village months ago with Garp.
"What happened to this child?" he wondered aloud.
"Was there a shipwreck nearby? Did he wash up alone? Where are his parents?"
He sighed deeply.
He could only imagine the grief and confusion the boy would feel when he woke.
The child looked around nine or ten years old, with dark hair—and a key-shaped necklace?
Just then, the door opened, and a young woman with dark green hair entered. She knelt beside the bed.
"Makino, you're here," the mayor said, relieved.
"What a poor child," Makino murmured, gently wiping sand from the boy's face with cool water.
She carefully applied ointment to his bruises, bandaged his wounds, and changed his dirty clothes.
All they could do now was wait.
The next day, at around the same time he was found, the boy woke up.
Makino, entering with a tray of food, paused as she saw him slowly open his eyes.
Blinking at the wooden ceiling above, the boy sat up, looking dazed.
'Did I survive?' he thought.
'But how is that possible? Why do I feel... shorter?'
His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed a young woman with dark green hair smiling warmly at him.
"You've finally woken up," she said gently.
"Eat first. I'll be back when you're done."
Setting the food on the table, she left to give him space.
She knew leaving him for a while would help him adjust.
Ling was stunned.
Even though the meeting was brief, he instantly recognized her.
'Makino.'
The woman who was like a sister and a mother to Luffy. How could he not know her? He was a One Piece fanatic, after all.
'Did I... transmigrate into One Piece?'
His stomach growled loudly, snapping him out of it.
"I'm hungry..." he muttered, holding his stomach.
He made his way to the table and started eating while trying to piece everything together.
He died in a plane crash, and now he was here—in the world he loved. But a world filled with danger.
This time, he swore, he'd live life to the fullest.
"Traveling, learning, and tasting everything the world had to offer... and that?"
'But who is the boy I took over?' he wondered.
In most transmigration stories, the traveler will inherited memories of the person he occupied. But he had none.
'I'll just keep my name—Ling.'
As he finished the last of his food and sat back on the bed, he kept thinking.
'I don't know the exact year, but judging from Makino's youthful appearance, she must be in her late teens or early twenties…'
An hour later, the door opened.
Makino entered with a basket of fruit, assisting the mayor at her side.
"You've woken up," the mayor said with a smile.
"My name is Ling." He tried to stand up and bow but was stopped by the Mayor.
"What a nice name," Makino said warmly.
"You should leave the formalities Ling!" The Mayor said warmly.
Makino set the basket on the table and headed to the kitchen to slice fruit she brought.
The mayor sat down near Ling.
"You gave us quite a scare, Ling. We found you unconscious near the docks. Luckily, Gyoru spotted you in time," he said warmly.
"Thank you," Ling said sincerely.
"You can call me Mayor," the old man said.
"And that young lady is Makino."
Makino waved from the kitchen with a soft smile.
"You look so young, Ling," the mayor said, tilting his head.
"How old are you?"
Ling thought for a moment.
Judging by his height, voice, and body, he estimated he was about nine or ten years old.
"I'm turning ten soon... I think," Ling replied.
"Hmm. You're older than Luffy was," Makino chuckled.
"I miss Luffy already. Should I visit him?" she muttered.
"What's there to miss about that troublemaker?" the mayor grumbled—but Ling could hear the affection in his voice.
'So, Luffy already left with Garp.' Ling thought.
'Maybe I can meet them… Ace, Sabo, and Luffy...'
His heart thudded with excitement, but he quickly calmed himself.
Breaking the silence, Makino returned with a plate of neatly sliced apples.
She handed one to Ling.
"Luffy? Who's that?" Ling asked, trying to get more information to know the timeline he currently was on.
Before the mayor could speak, Makino answered, smiling fondly.
"Luffy was a kid who lived here in the village. You said you're ten, right? That makes you three years older than him."
"He's a bright boy, always shouting about becoming a pirate. Garp took him somewhere a few months ago. We haven't seen him since."
'Since she said he left a few months ago, Luffy might still be chasing Ace or has already befriended them.'
'And that means it's the year 1512—ten years before Luffy sets sail, and seven years before Ace leaves to go to sea.'
Her words matched the manga perfectly, reassuring Ling.
He had time to train, grow, and prepare—for the greatest war the world would ever know.
After Makino's story, the mayor gently asked about Ling's past—where he came from, what had happened.
Lacking any memory from the body's previous owner, he improvised.
He said that he and his parents had been traveling by ship to the Goa Kingdom when a storm hit.
Everything else was a blur.
The mayor accepted it with a sigh, seeing no reason to doubt a traumatized child.
Satisfied, they left Ling to rest.
Makino promised to return later with dinner.