"Ugh—!"
"Ahh, this feels amazing! Haven't eaten like this in ages. Meat with real flavor… damn, it hits the spot! Hahaha!"
Jin let out a deep, satisfied belch, his tiny body slumping back in the high chair by the bar counter. His belly was visibly round from being stuffed full. For a moment, his childish face seemed completely relaxed—an expression only food can bring.
Across from him, the middle-aged bartender with glasses stood frozen, staring in disbelief.
A kid so small had just demolished over ten catties of roast meat.
Catching the man's stupefied look, Jin stretched his arms lazily and called out cheerfully, "Boss! A big cup of juice. Big, okay?"
That shout startled the bartender out of his trance. Flustered but polite, he scratched his head and forced a laugh. "R-right away, sir. Coming right up."
"Make it cold coconut juice," Jin added.
Moments later, the drink arrived—frosty, creamy, dripping with condensation.
"Aah, perfect."
He downed the whole massive cup in one go. Cold sweetness ran down his throat, chasing away the lingering taste of blood and dust. With a deep exhale, he finally felt alive again.
Then, as though remembering something, he turned to the bartender. "Hey, boss, bring the bill. And pack up the leftover roast meat—I'm taking it with me."
The bartender was already flipping through his dog-eared ledger. "Sir, that's… 1,324 Berries in total. You can just give me 1,300."
"No need." Jin pulled out a few of the crumpled notes he'd lifted off those dead scum earlier. He handed over 1,500 Berries. "Keep the change. Also… does anyone in this village rent out rooms?"
At first, the bartender hesitated. Then his face split into a warm, genuine grin. "Haha! Sir, why bother renting? If you head west about two thousand meters, right by the coast, there're plenty of empty houses. They're pretty run-down, but passersby or merchant caravans stay there sometimes."
"Empty? Why aren't the villagers living there?" Jin asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Ah, well…" The man scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Those houses are too close to the eastern edge, where the forest starts. Wild beasts have been spotted often these past years, so the villagers moved inland. Houses got abandoned."
He paused, then added, "But sir, if you plan to stay long-term… better find somewhere safer. I can introduce you to Isshin Dojo. The master there, Koshiro, is a good man. He might rent you a room for cheap."
"…Wait. Isshin Dojo? Koshiro? Shimotsuki Village?"
For a second, Jin's mind blanked. Then his eyes widened.
Holy crap. Isn't this the birthplace of Kuina… and Roronoa Zoro?!
He almost blurted it out, barely catching himself. His pulse raced. Memories of the manga and anime flashed through his mind—the small dojo, the girl who died too young, the swordsman destined to become the world's greatest…
The bartender looked puzzled by Jin's dazed reaction, but stayed quiet out of respect.
After a few heartbeats, Jin coughed, covering his slip. "Thanks. No need for the introduction. I'll just go see those empty houses first."
He grabbed the heavy parcel of meat and left. Behind him, the bartender's voice called out, "Come again anytime!"
Following the man's directions, Jin headed west along a narrow path.
His small figure, dwarfed by the parcel on his back, looked oddly determined. The wooden scabbard of the naval saber clinked softly against his knee with every step.
About a kilometer in, a sudden slope rose ahead, crowned by a weathered wooden signboard painted with three bold characters: 一心道场 – Isshin Dojo.
"So that's the place…" Jin murmured, squinting against the afternoon light.
He didn't dare ask too many questions earlier. Koshiro, that mild-looking swordsman, was anything but simple. A man who casually handed his daughter a Grade 21 Great Sword, and whose name was whispered among revolutionaries… a man who could easily be on par with a Marine admiral.
Jin knew better than to poke the tiger when he was still weak, injured, and alone.
"Patience. First get stronger. Then ask questions."
His lips curled in a mischievous grin. "Still… if Kuina's alive, maybe I'll get to play the hero and rescue her someday. Then what? Beauty falls for hero, vows to stay together, and we conquer the seas side by side… sounds damn good to me!"
His laugh echoed, boyish and tinged with something darker—like a child forced to grow up too soon.
Ten minutes later, he found them: a row of old coastal houses, some with moss-blackened roofs, others clearly used by travelers now and then.
Jin walked past those and chose the one furthest west, closest to the treeline. The door squeaked as he pushed it open.
Inside: a single dusty room, a collapsed cot, spider webs in the corners. Nothing more.
He dropped his bundle, wiped sweat from his brow, and chuckled dryly. "Well… guess this dump's my castle now."
Without wasting time, he took the saber and the food aside, rolled up his sleeves, and started cleaning. Dust rose, itching his nose; sweat stung his healing wounds.
An hour later, the sun was already kissing the horizon.
Jin stood in the middle of his newly swept floor, breathing hard. "Damn… that felt harder than fighting that pig bastard."
He muttered, "I really do need a woman to do this crap…"
His joke sounded oddly serious in the empty room.
Shouldering his saber again, Jin locked the rickety door and set off toward the village center. He needed bedding, candles, maybe soap—anything to make the ruin barely livable.
Along the way, he kept thinking:
This body's memories are useless. Except for that training diary, at least. Old man spent over a decade mastering the Six Powers… even with occasional help from Garp, he only made it to Rear Admiral before starting Haki training.
Jin's gaze hardened.
With my past life's knowledge, maybe I can cut that time in half…
He was so lost in thought that the noise of voices and clatter pulled him back only when he reached the main square. Shops with faded signs, people gathering after work, a stray dog sniffing a gutter.
Jin chose a general store with a hand-painted sign and pushed the door open.
Before he could speak, a plump, cheerful auntie bustled over. "Well, if it isn't our little hero! What can I get you? Since you cleaned up those three thugs, you get a special discount."
"Haha… thank you," Jin answered, masking surprise. "I need daily stuff: bedding, candles… mostly a thick quilt."
"No problem, wait here."
She soon returned with a bundle. "Here, lad. Should be enough to last you a while. Altogether… normally 600 Berries, but for you, let's call it 500."
Jin paid without haggling.
He'd thought about asking for news—about the dojo, about Kuina, about the wider seas. But exhaustion pressed on his shoulders like stone.
Instead, he just thanked her quietly, slung the bundle onto his back, and headed home.
Outside, dusk turned the sky purple.
Jin's small figure trudged toward the abandoned house. Behind him, the village lanterns flickered to life.
As he walked, the saber's weight at his hip felt reassuring.
Shimotsuki Village… the place where legends are born.
For now, he was just a small shadow on the road.
But in his chest, a young heart beat fiercely, already dreaming of the roaring seas beyond.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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