"Marshall D. Teach!!!"
"Still not here yet?"
Mock Town.
A town overflowing with pirates who spent money like water, located in the first half of the Grand Line.
Here, strength ruled above all, followed closely by money!
The streets bustled with activity, teeming with pirates flaunting weapons strapped to their waists. Fights, robbery, and bloodshed were as common as the stench in the air.
Human life held no value in this place.
In a foul-smelling alleyway, a frail figure coughed—his face pale, lips purple, and a skeletal, broken body that was only worsening.
If Blackbeard didn't show up in the next couple of days, Zeke would die right where he lay.
He thought of the last six months of life worse than death—the constant slicing pain throughout his body and the dignity long since trampled. That fury kept him breathing.
No matter what—he couldn't die like this.
"This damn world!"
Zeke struggled to pull out a piece of moldy, rotten bread from inside his coat. The look in his eyes was a mix of rage and unwillingness. That bread had cost him a leg.
His left leg was now lame.
His ribs were cracked—two or three, maybe more.
Some of his internal organs were bleeding. Blood spilled from his mouth every now and then.
His teeth were jagged and broken. Beneath his thick, torn cotton coat, his body was covered in deep purple bruises. It was clear he had been brutally beaten.
He hadn't changed clothes in half a year.
All he wore was one pair of tattered underwear.
When Zeke realized this was Mock Town, he knew immediately—he had been thrown into a pirate world where the strong lived like gods and the weak like insects.
At first, he was excited.
Devil Fruits, Haki, swordsmanship, martial arts—
To a mere commoner, these were divine powers. Even immortality seemed within reach.
He thought his chance to change fate had finally come.
But reality hit him like a hammer. With no cheat system, no powers, and landing in a place like Mock Town, an average person couldn't even survive, let alone take control of their destiny.
On his first day, he merely made eye contact with a drunken pirate.
With no warning, the man kicked him.
Zeke flew over ten meters, coughing blood mid-air.
He passed out before he even hit the ground.
When he came to, he was already half-dead.
He had known the world of pirates was cruel—but not *this* cruel. The strong didn't even need a reason to hurt the weak.
Because his injuries were so severe, Zeke was reduced to a beggar, barely surviving.
In the past six months—
He had fought stray dogs for food, dug through trash piles, and groveled before pirates.
The more "benevolent" ones would toss him scraps.
The violent ones would beat him within an inch of his life.
Over time, his body deteriorated beyond repair. He had nothing left except death.
He had done nothing wrong—so why suffer so much?
This world—
This world was broken!
Suddenly—
While chewing the moldy bread with numb hatred in his eyes, Zeke's pupils widened.
The figure reflected in them made his battered heart skip a beat.
At last, after all this time—he had arrived.
His one chance to survive and escape this hell.
Across the street, among the stream of passersby, a burly man with wild black hair, beast-like features, and a thick coat of body hair swaggered toward a tavern with a bottle of liquor in hand.
Marshall D. Teach.
Nickname: Blackbeard.
Future Emperor of the Sea.
A cruel, cunning man with boundless ambition, willing to do anything to reach his goal. One of the most notorious villains in the pirate world. The only person to ever wield two Devil Fruit powers.
And the sole reason Zeke had managed to stay alive this long, holding onto a sliver of hope—his dark moonlight.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Zeke tossed away the rotten bread.
With all his strength, he forced himself to stand.
Dragging his broken left leg, hobbling and gritting through the pain, his gaze locked onto Blackbeard, terrified the man would disappear if he blinked.
"Marshall D. Teach!!!"
As Blackbeard stepped onto the tavern's stairs, Zeke called out, his voice hoarse and weak, followed by a coughing fit.
Hearing someone call his name, Blackbeard turned his head.
He saw a limping, filthy beggar with matted hair—he let his guard down slightly.
"Zehahaha—"
A beggar?
A crippled one at that.
And he knew his name.
Blackbeard was a little surprised. He had only just arrived on the island. It hadn't been long since he killed Thatch, stole the Yami Yami no Mi, and betrayed the Whitebeard Pirates.
His name wasn't well-known yet.
Few in Mock Town had heard of him—let alone recognized him.
"I can help you find Pluton, one of the three Ancient Weapons."
Before Blackbeard could respond, Zeke dropped a bombshell that made even him freeze.
In that instant—
An overwhelming pressure descended upon Zeke, making his entire body tense up. He couldn't breathe. The man before him transformed into a monstrous beast.
Weightlessness followed.
Zeke blinked—and found himself in a nearby alley.
Blackbeard's massive frame blocked out all light.
Staring into those cruel, calculating eyes, Zeke couldn't help the terror creeping up his spine.
Compared to this man, he was insignificant.
"What did you just say?"
Blackbeard's voice trembled slightly.
His eyes were alight with ambition.
If Zeke couldn't explain himself, he would die here and now.
"I can read the ancient script. I can help you find Pluton—the Ancient Weapon."
Zeke coughed, leaning back against the wall, then slowly collapsed to the ground.
Standing alone had drained the last of his energy.
This was his one shot at survival.
He had to get on Blackbeard's crew—then use that position to change his fate.
To earn something—anything—even a Devil Fruit.
Over the past half year, he had tried using his knowledge of future events to barter with other pirates.
But all he received were beatings.
Those brainless idiots didn't even believe in Ancient Weapons.
Who'd believe a beggar?
"Who are you!?"
Blackbeard's eyes narrowed. He was clearly curious.
This beggar not only knew him, but also the ancient script—and even knew about Pluton?
No beggar could access that kind of information.
This man was full of red flags—but still, it was Pluton!
If it turned out to be true… the implications were enormous.
"My name is Zeke. I saw you once in a newspaper. And something told me—you're going to take the world and become its king."
"Zehahaha!"
Blackbeard blinked, then burst into laughter. But midway through, his face turned cold.
That answer had caught him off guard.
Even though he harbored such ambitions and had been working toward them, he never had that level of confidence.
Yet this beggar—
He sounded more sure than Blackbeard himself.
Take the world?
Become King?
He had spoken directly to Blackbeard's soul.
It was absurd.
But then again, life was absurd—and so was the world.
"There's an old saying where I come from—'The bold live, the timid starve.' So how about it? Want to place a bet with me? Bet that I can help you find Pluton, and bet that *you* will become King of the World!"
"After all, you have nothing to lose."
Zeke's pale face was serious, bloodshot eyes burning as he pushed himself upright with both hands.
Unlike other powerhouses, Blackbeard was a true gambler.
He had hidden inside Whitebeard's crew for decades, waiting for the Yami Yami no Mi.
A man that patient and ruthless would never ignore the chance to obtain Pluton.
Even if there was only a sliver of hope.
Zeke was confident—Blackbeard would take the bait.
From Blackbeard's point of view, Zeke was weak as an ant, no threat at all. If he were lying, killing him would be effortless.
Against a giant, an ant's schemes were meaningless.
"Zehahaha—!!"
Blackbeard's eyes narrowed, and his laugh deepened.
Just as Zeke predicted, Blackbeard had nothing to lose.
If this beggar lied, he could crush him.
But if it were true—and he ignored it?
He couldn't risk it.
"That saying... The bold live, the timid starve. That's wise. Life *is* one big gamble. And your gamble—I can't walk away from it."
Blackbeard had guts—and now, he was intrigued.
Besides, his luck had always been good. He had gambled once and won the Yami Yami no Mi.
This time, he would win again!
Exhaling deeply, Zeke felt a weight lift from his chest.
He had survived.