Kyle held his breath and merged into the shadows along the cliff's edge, revealing only a pair of golden pupils that silently watched the ship approaching below.
The ship wasn't large; at most, it could carry twenty people. The hull was weathered, and the sails were patched in several places. Clearly, they weren't from a wealthy or powerful pirate crew.
The flag at the bow was standard, a ferocious skull with two crossed scimitars beneath. A classic design, but utterly lacking in creativity.
"Finally… someone's here," Kyle whispered to himself. After surviving like a savage on this island for so long, he finally had a chance to leave.
Though excitement surged within him, he didn't leap out to meet the pirates.
Caution—that was the first rule of survival for a time traveler, especially in this chaotic and deadly world.
The pirate ship dropped anchor just offshore. Several figures jumped down and waded through the knee-deep water toward the beach.
There were twelve in total—rough-looking men dressed in rags, with bows and muskets strapped to their hips. At a glance, they were nothing more than bloodthirsty desperadoes.
Their leader was a brawny man with a thick beard, a scarlet sash tied around his waist, and a spiked mace larger than his head slung over his shoulder. He barked orders while cursing loudly:
"You lot, hurry up and find some fresh water and food! And if you come across anything valuable on this broken island, grab that too!"
"Aye, Captain!" several of the pirates replied, laughing as they scattered.
Kyle held his breath as much as possible and quietly activated his Wave Fruit ability. An invisible vibration pulse spread out like radar, scanning the uninvited guests.
"Hmm… mediocre strength." Kyle assessed calmly. Compared to those Grand Line monsters with bounties in the tens or even hundreds of millions, these pirates were just small fry.
They lacked the crushing pressure of true powerhouses. No presence of Haki, no overwhelming aura. He was confident he could handle them.
His hiding spot gave him the high ground and a clear view of the beach below, where the pirates were wandering about.
Several of them were kicking through the sand and underbrush, grumbling about the island's barren state.
"What're we gonna find on this godforsaken rock?" a tall, skinny pirate cursed, kicking away a stone.
"Tch. As long as we find fresh water, I'm happy. Last time we got a load of good stuff from some village… what was it called again?" Another pirate with a scarred face grinned, flashing yellow teeth.
The bearded captain threw back his head and laughed. "Of course! Those fools actually thought they could resist us? I smashed their skulls in with one swing of my mace! And the girls… damn, they were juicy!"
"Captain, what a waste! You killed two of them too early. We didn't even get our fill yet!" a pointy-faced pirate nearby chuckled vulgarly, full of regret.
"Bah, don't worry! Once we've resupplied, we'll head to the next island. I promise you boys'll get your fun. Any that resist—kill the men, feed 'em to the fish, and the women…" the captain let out a revolting laugh. The rest followed with obscene laughter and foul jokes.
They talked about looting and slaughter like they were discussing the weather—casually, remorselessly.
The last trace of amusement on Kyle's face vanished. His expression darkened.
He had originally held onto a sliver of hope, maybe he could negotiate with them, use some special tricks to secure passage off the island. But now, it was clear these scum didn't deserve negotiation. They deserved eradication.
The world of One Piece wasn't just sunshine, friendship, and epic adventure. The cruelty, bloodshed, and darkness—once just hinted at in cover stories or throwaway panels—were now laid bare before him. Violence and sin were an undeniable part of this sea.
Kyle wasn't a saint. But he wasn't someone who could turn a blind eye to evil either. And now, these pirates gave him a justifiable reason to take their ship.
"So my first real battle will be against scum like you." Kyle rose slowly, a cold glint of killing intent flickering in his eyes.
He took a deep breath. Rather than jumping straight from the cliff and shouting something righteous like, "Surrender, you're surrounded by me!"—he chose to silently circle around through the jungle to flank the pirates.
One pirate was swearing as he slashed through thick vines with a crescent-shaped sword, completely unaware of the danger behind him.
Kyle emerged like a ghost. His right hand clenched, and a silent wave of vibration condensed around his fist.
The pirate froze. He tried to cry out, but no sound came.
A second later, his sword clattered to the ground. His body crumpled like his bones had been pulled out, and faint crackling noises echoed from within. Dark red blood trickled from his nose, eyes, and ears.
Dead in a single strike—quiet, clean, lethal.
Kyle stared at the corpse, stomach churning. Even though he had mentally prepared himself, the act of taking a life with his own hands hit harder than expected. It was far more unsettling than he had imagined.
He forced down the discomfort and turned toward his next target.
"Who's there?!" Another pirate suddenly snapped his head around, alert.
What met him was an almost invisible shockwave.
"Puff!"
The pirate's chest collapsed inward, as if smashed by a giant hammer. He flew backward, crashed into a small tree, and slumped down. Blood gushed from his mouth. He wasn't getting up.
"Enemy attack!!" One of the pirates finally noticed the attacks and screamed in panic.
The bearded captain's expression shifted instantly. He roared, "Who the hell are you?! Show yourself!"
Kyle didn't reply. He simply stepped out of the forest, his figure emerging into the sunlight—black hair, golden eyes, and an expression as calm as still water.
"A... brat?" The bearded captain was momentarily stunned by Kyle's appearance, then burst into laughter. "You've got guts, touching my men! Boys, kill him!"
The remaining seven or eight pirates roared and charged at Kyle, weapons raised, blades gleaming with cold light.
Kyle didn't retreat. Instead, he advanced, pushing his hands forward.
"Buzz—buzz—buzz—"
Three-pointed shockwaves condensed and burst outward in a fan-shaped arc, precisely striking the incoming enemies. The first few pirates didn't even have time to scream before the violent force tore into them—bones shattered, muscles ripped apart. Whether they were dead or alive was unclear.
The rest of the pirates were frozen in terror, stunned by the overwhelming power. They stared at Kyle as if seeing a ghost.
"You… what kind of monster are you?!" one pirate stammered in fear.
Kyle didn't answer. His figure flickered and appeared right in front of him.
The pirate barely registered the movement when a strange vibration surged through the arm holding his weapon. He watched in horror as his steel gauntlet crumbled like glass, falling apart into a pile of broken shards.
"My... arm!" Before he could scream, Kyle's hand slashed across his neck. The shockwave severed his cervical spine in an instant.
In the blink of an eye, only the bearded captain was left. He had just watched Kyle butcher his men like vegetables. The vicious grin that once curled his lips had long disappeared, replaced with deep, bone-chilling fear.
Now, he realized that he had provoked someone he absolutely shouldn't have.
"Who… who are you?!" the captain shouted, trying to sound fierce, but the hand gripping his mace trembled.
Kyle walked toward him, slow and steady. Each step felt like a hammer on the man's chest.
"Just a passing righteous savage." Before the last word left his lips, Kyle's figure suddenly accelerated, leaving a trail of blurred afterimages.
The captain roared and swung his mace, the heavy iron weapon cleaving through the air with a fierce gust of wind.
But it hit nothing.
The moment Kyle came into contact with the mace, his form shimmered, becoming semi-transparent, like a flicker in the air. The mace passed right through his body.
Elementalization!
The captain's pupils shrank in disbelief. What kind of ability is this?!
In the next instant, Kyle solidified. One hand pressed firmly against the captain's chest.
"I'll send you off. You can repent in hell."
"Shockwave... Disintegration."
"Puff—"
The captain's body convulsed violently. His face froze in a mix of pain and horror. He looked down to see his chest collapsing from the inside, flesh and clothing torn apart by an invisible force.
He tried to speak, but only spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with fragments of his organs. Then, he toppled over—lifeless, silent.
The battle was over.
Kyle stood alone on the blood-soaked beach. The sea breeze carried the stench of death.
He looked at the corpses spread around him. His face turned pale, his stomach churned—and then he couldn't hold it anymore. With a retch, he vomited up all the grilled fish he'd eaten that morning.
It was his first time killing. And not just one—he had killed many, one after another. Even though they were wicked pirates, the sheer physical and psychological impact was overwhelming. It was nothing like smashing rocks or blowing up trees in training.
He knelt there for a long time, breathing heavily. When he finally recovered, he rinsed his mouth with seawater and wiped his lips clean.
"Hah… so this is the world of One Piece." He murmured, his tone laced with complex emotions.
But he had no regrets.
He walked toward the pirate ship, the vessel that would now be his. It was a bit shabby, but it could sail.
"Finally, a ship. I can leave this goddamn island now." Kyle smiled faintly. "Though... the ones who came were not good."
He hopped aboard and started inspecting the ship. There were some provisions—fresh water and food—but not much. Surprisingly, in one of the cabins, he discovered a small wooden box filled with shells and a few valuable-looking pieces of jewelry.
"Better than nothing." Kyle tucked the box away.
"Well then…" he stood at the bow, facing the vast sea ahead. A new light burned in his eyes. "Grand Line, here I come!"