East Blue.
Some nowhere town, barely worth a dot on the chart.
Town center, Navy Hunter Exchange Hall.
Door creaked open on rusted hinges. Dust motes danced in the sunlit air.
In strode a boy — one meter seventy of black windbreaker, long violet hair barely tamed into a low tie, and cold, deep eyes that looked older than his years.
At his waist: a single chipped navy blade. In hand: a worn black case, corners scuffed white by travel.
Jin, ten and a half years old… but built like a damn coiled panther.
He stepped to the counter, leaning in with a lazy grin that somehow still looked sharp enough to cut.
"Hey, pretty lady," his voice low, teasing, but carrying a merc's calm steel. "Help me cash in Cassnan's bounty, yeah?"
As he flipped the case open, the proof of kill thunked onto the counter — a bloodstained insignia, a photo, and an official Navy notice stamped "Wanted: Dead."
The clerk — a girl barely older than him, freckled cheeks flushed — damn near choked on her breath.
"Oh—oh! Of course, please wait a moment!" she stammered, fingers fumbling at the register.
Jin smirked, half-amused. Cute, but soft. Way too soft for this line of work.
He turned his gaze around the dingy hall — cracked tiles, paint peeling in long strips, a smell of brine and cheap pipe smoke.
So this is what passes for a hunter center in East Blue? Fucking pathetic. No wonder anyone worth half a damn becomes a pirate or signs up for the Marines…
Suddenly—
"Ah! Seven-point-two million Beli…!"
Her gasp snapped him back.
Jin glanced over his shoulder, voice casual: "What? Problem?"
"N-no! Just surprised, that's all…" the girl flushed deeper, ducking her head.
"Right." Jin brushed it off, signing the slip with a lazy swirl of violet ink. "Thanks, sweetheart."
He sauntered away as she clutched the signed form like a love letter.
Behind him, barely audible over the shuffle of other hunters, her voice:
"Jin… what a cool name…"
Dumb kid. You'd piss yourself if you saw the real me, Jin thought, but his lips quirked anyway.
Across the endless blue
A mid-sized merchant ship cut through the mild morning swell.
Sea gulls circled above, shrieking for scraps. Salt wind stung Jin's face, lifting black strands of hair off his cheek.
He lounged against the railing, blade resting across his thighs, eyelids half-shut.
One year and change since he'd left Shimotsuki Village.
Since he'd left her.
Wonder if Kuina still trains by moonlight, he thought. Bet she curses my name when she swings, wanting to catch up. Cute stubborn idiot…
His hand drifted to the pommel of his blade.
In the quiet, he could almost hear bamboo hitting bamboo on the training ground. Almost smell old man Koshiro's tea.
Ten and a fucking half. But not the same brat that left home.
A year of wandering, blood, and bounty slips had carved him harder, leaner.
Flow Stage still a step away — when his inner force would flood every damn cell, pushing him beyond human. But even now, his veins pulsed with that faint, controlled burn.
The ki (気) of his past life's cruel discipline, fused into a new shape by East Blue's raw, living air.
Devil Fruits, muscle monsters, fishmen… this sea is built on raw power, he mused. But I've got my own trick. My ki isn't flashy — can't toss fireballs — but it forges bones and tendons like tempered steel.
He let out a low laugh, almost a growl.
Maybe that's enough. Fuck "maybe." It IS enough.
"Sea ahead!"
A shout ripped through lazy deck chatter.
Jin's eyes snapped open — all trace of softness gone.
A panicked sailor skidded over, salt crust flaking from his coat.
"Mr. Jin! Quick, inside — a pirate sloop, one sea mile off our bow! We're veering port but she's gaining fast!"
Pirates.
Jin's pulse quickened, not from fear — from an itch under the skin.
A year on the water… and still hadn't seen a single proper pirate flag.
Maybe today.
He rose, one smooth motion. The breeze flapped his coat open, showing the battered hunter license at his belt.
Around him, sailors scrambled, eyes rolling white. Some dropped crates. One nearly pissed himself.
"Motherfuckers," Jin muttered. "Never even drawn steel, I bet."
He stepped toward the sweating captain, voice low and annoyed:
"Why panic? They're still a sea mile off. You can't outrun them?"
The man wrung his hat in both hands. "If it were common raiders — yes! But sir, their sails bear iron studs, and the hull's deeper cut — a real fighting ship. We won't reach any Marine post in time…"
As he spoke, his voice broke, tears gathering.
"Saints above… we're finished…"
Finished?
Jin's lips peeled back in something between a grin and a snarl.
Pathetic. Pirates might be scum, but at least they've got spine.
He shoved the captain with a boot.
"Hey. You got a hunter verification sigil on board?"
The man blinked. "Wha—yes! Yes, we do!"
Good.
With that, Jin turned, coat swirling. His hand found the chipped blade at his hip, thumb resting on the guard.
Thoughts at the edge of blood
His heartbeat steadied. Muscles loosened.
One year out here, and not once have I tested my limits. Flow Stage still eludes me — but even now, I'm not helpless.
Memories flashed:
Kuina's flushed face by firelight.
Koshiro's eyes, cool and knowing.
A promise spoken under the stars: "I'll climb higher, and come back."
Jin drew in the salt-laced air, chest swelling.
Strong men die chasing the sea. I'm no hero. But fuck it — let's see what real pirates taste like.
He rolled his neck, joints cracking.
A smile ghosted over his lips — savage, eager.
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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