East Blue.
"Haaah! Haaah!"
A teenage Smoker threw punch after punch at a jagged reef.
Each strike landed with force, his fists driving into the rock like nails, and with every withdrawal, shards of stone crumbled and scattered.
After a long session, the boulder, once the size of a small house, had been reduced to nothing but gravel.
Smoker let out a heavy breath and collapsed onto the beach, gasping for air. His morning training was done.
[The current year is Sea Circle Calendar 1497. Very soon, Roger will reach Laugh Tale and become the Pirate King!]
[In one year, he'll be executed at Loguetown, sacrificing himself to spark the Great Pirate Era!]
[Countless people will sail to sea in search of freedom and dreams. But how many will care about the villages burned to the ground or the families torn apart by that very wave?]
A shadow crossed Smoker's eyes.
After all, while his outward appearance hadn't changed, the soul inside was now that of a former corporate drone.
Just a few years ago, after several sleepless nights finishing up a project, he'd decided to finally unwind with a few episodes of One Piece. The moment he hit play, a sharp pain struck his chest—and then darkness.
When he opened his eyes, he had inexplicably become... White Hunter Smoker.
Still a kid, though.
As absurd as reincarnating into an anime world sounded, Smoker had adapted quickly. He was even pretty satisfied with his new identity—after all, Smoker had been one of his favorite characters in his past life.
But there was one thing he couldn't accept: Smoker's downward spiral in canon. He started strong, then just... kept losing. Three straight humiliating defeats? Tragic.
He'd tried everything he could think of.
No old man in his head.
No mysterious green potion.
No cheat system.
No dual-world portal.
No portable pocket dimension.
Nothing. Absolutely clean. It hurt.
That's why he'd spent the past few years in a constant state of anxiety.
Cheat powers were the lifeline of all transmigrators!
With them, you could casually munch on a Logia or Mythical Zoan Fruit like it was breakfast, pick up all three types of Haki as if they were standard issue, and if your cheat was generous enough, you could even mess with the multiverse.
But without a cheat? You were basically a stepchild in the transmigrator world.
And Smoker had it worse than most. He wasn't a rare race, didn't have Emperor-level strength, lacked any special physique, and had no noble background. In other words, he had zero potential for plot armor.
The only thing he had going for him was the [Smoke-Smoke Fruit]—and he had reincarnated too early to even get his hands on it.
Worse, canon never explained how he got it in the first place.
Did he find it on Suikin Island?
Was it awarded after joining the Marines?
Or did the Navy just hand it to him?
With no answers, Smoker dared not leave Suikin Island, terrified he might miss his destined Devil Fruit.
Suikin Island wasn't too big, but it wasn't tiny either.
The eastern side held the townsfolk and merchants.
The western half was a quiet, uninhabited jungle.
According to his inherited memories, the original Smoker used to daydream while staring at the sea from the west coast as a child.
If the fruit really was on this island, chances were it would show up here.
So, like a rabbit waiting by the tree stump, Smoker came back to this beach day after day, clinging to that one sliver of hope.
As a transmigrator, he knew far more than his predecessor about how brutal the One Piece world could be. In the eyes of true monsters, he was fragile—like a brittle cookie ready to snap.
That's why, unlike the original Smoker, he didn't take things easy. He trained. Relentlessly.
Years passed. He hadn't found the [Smoke-Smoke Fruit], but his body had become incredibly tough.
His face was still that of a young boy, but his physique had grown into a textbook inverted triangle. He had already shot up to a towering 190 cm.
But... this new strength brought a new problem.
His appetite now rivaled those of actual monsters.
What a normal person ate in a week, he could devour in a single sitting.
His parents had left him a sizable inheritance, enough to live comfortably for decades.
But at this rate, he was burning through it like wildfires in dry grass.
In just three years, he was nearly broke.
Left with no choice, he started working to support himself.
Thankfully, he had both brains and brawn. Jobs weren't hard to come by.
He worked as a dock laborer, a bodyguard for merchant ships, even dabbled in part-time pirate hunting.
He did whatever paid well. Once he had enough, he rushed back to the island to wait for his fruit again.
His life boiled down to three things: eating, working, and training.
Busy. And broke.
"I was grinding hard before I transmigrated. Now I'm still grinding after? What's the point of reincarnating if I can't catch a break?!"
In the world of pirates, strength was everything.
The four mainstream sources of power were: physique, Devil Fruits, Haki, and science.
Physique didn't need explaining.
Smoker had trained like a madman, and it paid off.
With his sheer brute strength alone, he could already take down pirates with bounties in the millions—an impressive feat for a ten-year-old kid.
Haki? He'd definitely learn it eventually.
But that was an advanced skill. Having a proper mentor made all the difference.
In the main story, from Whole Cake Island to Onigashima, all nine Supernovas used Haki.
But wildcards like Kid and Law mostly relied on flashy brute force. They just pulled out bigger weapons to see who was harder and edgier.
Meanwhile, Luffy and Zoro had long since upgraded to advanced Armament Haki.
So rather than blindly fumbling with Haki now, Smoker decided to focus on building his physical foundation. Once he joined the Marines, he'd get formal training anyway.
As for science...?
Smoker shook his head.
This was East Blue, not some tech-savvy region.
The most "advanced" piece of tech here was probably Buggy's cannonballs.
After reviewing all his options, one thing became clear, if he wanted to grow stronger quickly, his best bet was to eat a Devil Fruit!
And screw anyone who said the [Smoke-Smoke Fruit] or [Flame-Flame Fruit] weren't worth eating.
If you had the chance to get a Logia Fruit, even if it was something like the [Poop-Poop Fruit], people would still fight to the death for it!
With a Logia, you could push into the Grand Line as a warlord or settle in East Blue as a local king. Either way, the future was bright.
But... Devil Fruits in East Blue were pathetically rare.
In canon, Krieg, the so-called overlord of East Blue had spent his whole career just hearing about Devil Fruits as "legends."
And Smoker? After all these years here, he hadn't even seen a single fruit user.
Smoker stared up at the sky and sighed.
"Could it be the butterfly effect? Did I miss my chance at the [Smoke-Smoke Fruit]? Or was it never on this island to begin with?"
"Forget it. Whatever happens, happens. Might as well keep training. At least my body will be solid enough for Rokushiki down the line…"
Suddenly, something bobbed into view on the waves.
Two round fruits, one pure white, one dark purple, floated among the swells, rising and falling with the tide.
"Hmm? What's that?"
"…Wait, holy sh*t?! Are those… Devil Fruits?! Two of them?!"
The ocean waves pulled the fruits in opposite directions.
The closer one was snowy white with faint swirling patterns that resembled smoke—it was the [Smoke-Smoke Fruit]!
"Thank the heavens! I didn't wait all this time for nothing!!"
As for the other one…
Smoker was a man of principle.
He had finally found his dream fruit. No way he'd spare even a glance at the other one!
"…Well, one peek won't hurt, right?"
The farther fruit was dark purple, shaped like a spiked pineapple.
Smoker dropped to his knees with a splash.
"…The [Dark-Dark Fruit]?!"
"How the hell did I get this lucky?! Two Logia Fruits at the same time?!"
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100 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter