The Grand Line an unknown stretch of sea.
Splash
A massive wave slammed into the wooden hull with a sickening thud.
In the gloomy, damp hold, the air reeked of mildewed brine and nauseating sewage.
Bang!
The ship lurched violently, and a skinny figure curled in the corner crashed into the hard planks.
The pain snapped the boy's eyes open.
It was dim; a few faint rays slipped through cracks in the deck above, revealing scattered barrels and coils of rope.
Where am I?
The youth clutched the back of his head; his fingers felt something warm and wet blood.
Before he could react, a flood of foreign memory fragments burst into his skull as if driven in with a hammer.
A merchant ship… a pirate flag… his parents' terrified screams… a blood-soaked deck… and finally, being flung into this coffin-like hold.
The World of the Pirate King… the Grand Line…
Mordred gasped, his gaze turning from dazed to sharp, then deeply gloomy.
He had transmigrated.
In his previous life, he'd been a college student who died from binge-watching anime; now he was a ten-year-old named Mordred.
His original parents were small traders who'd spent all their savings on passage to a larger island, only to be targeted by the pirate vessel Black Shark soon after entering the Grand Line.
The adults were slaughtered, valuables plundered, and children like him kept alive for one simple reason: kids fetched a high price from slavers.
What a hellish start.
Mordred clenched his teeth and struggled to sit up against a barrel.
The body was too weak days without food, plus the head injury he couldn't even stand.
Heavy footsteps thudded overhead along with coarse curses and wild laughter.
"Hey, we hit the jackpot this time!"
"Those brats'll sell for a few million Berries at least! The tender-skinned one's perfect nobles love that!"
"Captain was smart not to kill them all."
Every word that filtered through the deck felt like a needle in Mordred's heart.
These were pirates.
This was a world where the strong preyed on the weak.
No laws, no morals only power and Berries.
He looked at his thin arms, his gaze turning cold.
Since he was here, he wouldn't wait for death; slaves in this world lived a fate worse than it.
Reborn into this world, he had no intention of becoming some noble's toy.
Right then, a mechanical voice rang in his mind.
[Host's emotional spike detected; initiating system bind…]
[Binding successful!]
[Strongest Astonishment System at your service!]
Mordred blinked, then gave a cold smile.
Of course the standard transmigrator package.
"Explain the functions," he thought.
[This system aims to make the host the most astonishing being across all worlds.]
[Whenever you evoke surprise, awe, or fear in others, you gain astonishment value.]
[Astonishment value can be spent on gacha draws for items, abilities, and bloodlines from countless worlds.]
Simple and brutal.
Mordred liked it.
In this world, only fear and awe kept you alive.
"Any newbie gift pack?"
[Newbie gift pack issued; open it?]
"Open."
No hesitation.
In this situation, even a stick was a lifeline.
[Congratulations! Host has obtained: Blacklight Virus (Prototype)!]
[Source: Prototype World]
[Description: Ultimate bio-weapon. Grants devour, assimilation, mimicry, super-regeneration, and body weaponization. You are the virus; you are a god.]
…[Congratulations! Host has obtained: Shadowkhan Mask (Ninja)!]
[Source: Jackie Chan Adventures World]
[Description: Summons the Ninja Tribe with high agility and assassination skills. Host, as mask master, can summon endlessly with no side effects.]
…[Congratulations! Host has obtained: C-rank Character Card Deadpool!]
[Source: Marvel World]
[Description: Grants all of Deadpool's abilities: immortality, mastery of every weapon and martial art, and fourth-wall-breaking chatter (side-effect: motor-mouth).]
The string of notifications made Mordred's pupils shrink.
This was a newbie pack?
This was a license for carnage.
The Blacklight Virus could wipe out cities single-handedly.
A surge of hot energy flooded his body; the hunger and injuries vanished, replaced by explosive strength.
The wound on the back of his head closed at a visible speed, leaving no scar.
Hunger disappeared, replaced by a craving for flesh a predator's instinct.
Mordred clenched his fists; his knuckles cracked.
This feeling of power was exquisite.
With a thought, a pitch-black mask etched with fierce ninja patterns appeared in his hand.
The Ninja Mask.
Put it on, and he could summon an endless, absolutely loyal shadow army.
Since the system had given such a generous gift, it would be rude not to return the favor.
"Come out, my shadows."
He murmured, placing the mask over his face.
No flashy lights, no incantations.
The already dim shadows in the hold turned viscous, like boiling ink.
From corners, behind barrels, and even from beneath the other children, pairs of crimson eyes snapped open pure red, no whites, no pupils, only endless killing intent and obedience.
Swish, swish, swish!
A dozen black-clad ninjas rose silently from the shadows.
They had no solid forms; black mist coiled around them, their feet hovering half an inch above the planks.
The Shadowkhan ninja specters summoned by the mask.
The children in the cages held their breath, hands clamped over their mouths, eyes wide.
Mordred removed the mask and stored it in the system space.
Even without wearing it, he could command these shadow killers with a thought.
"Go, give the gentlemen upstairs an extra course."
He lifted his right hand, pressing his index finger to his lips.
Crack.
He bit through the tip of his finger.
Crimson blood oozed, but within a second the flesh writhed, trying to heal.
Such was the Blacklight Virus's monstrous regeneration.
Frowning, Mordred forced back the regenerative urge and squeezed the finger.
Drip.
A dark-red drop fell.
A Shadowkhan appeared beside him, cupped a cracked porcelain bowl found from nowhere, and caught the blood.
Drip, drip.
After a dozen drops, the half-bowl of water turned a sinister scarlet; then he released his grip.
The wound vanished without a trace.
"Good stuff; don't let it go to waste."
Watching the blood swirl like living threads, a savage glint flashed in his eyes.
Prototype blood was the most potent pathogen for ordinary humans.
A tiny amount could turn this ship into a hell on earth.
"Go, spread it evenly let every pirate taste my gift."
He waved his hand.
The ninja holding the bowl bowed, leaned back, and melted into the dark floor.
The others followed, slipping through cracks and vanishing.
The hold fell silent once more.
Mordred leaned against the damp plank, closed his eyes, and waited for the show to begin.