My name is Gern.
I'm a transmigrator.
Once upon a time, I used to imagine myself stirring up storms in the world of pirates—standing at the peak of the seas, feared by all.
Reality, however, hit me like a club to the head.
No system.
No golden finger.
Not even a half-decent cheat.
But that was fine. At the very least, I still had one advantage—
Foreknowledge.
With my understanding of the story, surely I could cling to the right thighs and coast my way to success, right?
That naïve fantasy was utterly shattered when I turned ten.
That day, my hands trembled as I clutched a crumpled newspaper.
Printed on it was a name that made my blood run cold:
"Gold Roger."
Not Gol D. Roger.
But Gold Roger.
In that instant, I realized something was terribly wrong.
This world had already deviated from the tracks of my memory.
The era of Rocks was still at its absolute peak—and I, a so-called "prophet" who had only finished One Piece through short video clips…
The very next day, just to keep myself fed, I grabbed a recruitment flyer for naval menial staff from the West Blue branch and joined the Marines without looking back.
If even someone like Coby—the king of deserters—could rise from a chore boy to a Headquarters colonel in two years, then surely I, a transmigrator, could do the same.
Reality proved otherwise.
Four years.
A full four years.
No background.
No connections.
I nearly bled myself dry bribing my way through just to become a second-class logistics private.
By then, the famous naval instructor Zephyr had already risen to the rank of Vice Admiral under the name "Black Arm," with no intention whatsoever of nurturing a new generation.
Sure, there were precious slots at Marine Headquarters' academy—
But Gern was nothing more than a triple-nothing product from a West Blue branch.
No Haki.
No Devil Fruit.
No talent.
Aside from being a bit stronger than average, I had nothing.
As for climbing the ranks through military merit?
Don't joke around.
In an era where the Rocks Pirates were rampaging across the seas, that was nothing short of suicide.
So if death was inevitable either way—
I might as well gamble big.
Devil Fruits.
That was my answer.
Any one of them would be enough to completely rewrite my fate.
And the opportunity lay in the God Valley Incident.
Six Devil Fruits.
Rewards bestowed by the Celestial Dragons.
This was the chance I had waited four years for.
To prepare for this day, I lived frugally, navigated the underworld syndicates of the West Blue, risked my life, and even mortgaged my own organs—borrowing every last scrap of high-interest debt I could find.
Thirty million Beli.
With bribes stacked on top, I finally secured a slot as a Marine escort for the Celestial Dragons' so-called "study tour."
Four years of endurance—
All for this moment.
This was no longer just gambling with my life.
What I was betting on—
Was the future of this world itself.
God Valley
Year 1484 of the Sea Circle Calendar
"Hah—!"
Gern forcibly tore himself out of unconsciousness and snapped his eyes open.
"Conqueror's Haki… again…"
This was already the fiftieth time he'd been knocked out. He struggled to prop himself up, his body heavy and unresponsive.
Glancing around, he realized he was lying at the edge of a dense forest on the outskirts of the island. The coastline wasn't far away.
Then, memories came flooding back.
The Celestial Dragons' hunting game.
The sudden storm.
The ambush by the Rocks Pirates.
The arrival of Roger and Garp—
And then, that sky-rending clash of Conqueror's Haki, followed by a darkness that swallowed everything.
"Damn it!"
Gern slammed his fist into the ground.
"What time is it now? How long was I out this time?! The battle—"
With that thought, he forced himself to stand. His legs trembled violently, still shaking from the lingering pressure of Rocks' and Roger's Haki.
Through the thick canopy, the sky glowed an eerie dark red. In the distance, dull thunder-like booms echoed intermittently.
"…It's not over already, is it?"
Fear coiled around his heart like a venomous snake.
According to his memory, the decisive battle of God Valley should have already erupted. Roger and Garp should be fighting the Rocks Pirates at full force.
And the six Devil Fruits that could change his destiny—
Gern bit through his lip, the taste of blood spreading in his mouth as he forced himself to calm down.
"The Fish-Fish Fruit… and the Paw-Paw Fruit… they should still be somewhere on this island…"
His voice suddenly choked.
Deep down, he knew better than anyone.
That brutal slaughter, lasting less than a single day, had already come to an end.
The moment that sky-splitting Conqueror's Haki vanished—
The era of Rocks had ended.
Especially now.
There were no more roars of battle on the island. Only scattered cheers from the Marines.
"…It's all over."
The thought pierced his heart like fangs.
The Fish-Fish Fruit had fallen into the hands of a young Charlotte Linlin.
The Paw-Paw Fruit had been eaten by Bartholomew Kuma.
As for the remaining Devil Fruits…
They had surely already been divided up.
Four years of planning.
Over twenty million Beli borrowed against his own life and body.
All of it—
A complete joke.
"So in the end… I actually…"
Gern's fists trembled uncontrollably as the rage he'd suppressed for years finally exploded.
"AAAH—!"
With a roar, he swung his fist into the oak tree beside him.
The trunk shook violently—
And then, a white apple dropped straight down, striking him square on the head.
The sudden impact stunned him for a moment. Instinctively, his gaze fell on the object that had hit him.
"…This is—"
What he saw was a strange apple. Its surface was pale white, covered in crystalline, crack-like patterns, as though made of shattered glass.
A Devil Fruit.
Gern snatched it into his hands instantly, his pupils shrinking as his fingers tightened around it.
He looked up at the tree.
Ordinary apples—green and red—hung sparsely among the branches, swaying gently in the wind.
They formed a stark contrast with the eerie fruit in his hand.
Gern stared at the pale Devil Fruit. The fractured patterns shimmered with an ominous sheen under the sunlight.
Crunch.
Without the slightest hesitation, once he confirmed what it was, Gern opened his mouth and bit down hard.
The moment the flesh touched his tongue, an indescribable, revolting taste surged through him. Fighting the urge to retch, he forced himself to swallow.
"Ugh—ahhh!!"
He dropped to his knees.
"This taste—"
Before he could finish complaining, his body suddenly convulsed.
Bones.
Muscles.
Blood.
It felt as though countless microscopic shockwaves were piercing through every part of him. Every nerve vibrated at terrifying frequency.
His vision warped. The ground rippled like waves. Even the air around him trembled unnaturally.
Hummm—
The world abruptly fell into an eerie silence.
Gern's pupils contracted sharply.
He could clearly feel it—
His body was disappearing.
No—
Not disappearing.
It was transforming into something more fundamental.
And somehow, he could create and control these… vibration particles.
Realizing this, Gern immediately looked down.
Under his will, his arm became semi-transparent, shimmering as though composed of countless vibrating particles, pulsing gently with his breath.
He clenched his fist experimentally.
BOOM!!
An invisible shockwave erupted outward. The air ahead shattered like glass, and a fan-shaped blast swept forward—trees within ten meters were instantly reduced to dust.
"Th-This… this is… the Gura Gura?!"
Gern stared at his palm in disbelief. "No—wait!"
He could feel it clearly.
He wasn't generating vibrations through a medium—
He himself was the source.
The embodiment of vibration between heaven and earth.
With a thought, Gern's entire body transformed into an invisible shockwave, passing straight through a shattered tree trunk and reassembling on the other side.
Elementalization.
Complete and flawless.
"Natural-type elementalization—there's no doubt about it! It's a Logia!!"
Ecstasy surged through him—only for him to freeze a second later.
"…Wait."
"Isn't the Gura Gura no Mi supposed to be Paramecia?"
"Then why the hell did it turn into a Logia when I ate it?!"