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One Piece: The Strange Talent of Cedric Strode

He was just an ordinary college student before he woke up in the body of a young boy in the South Blue, a world filled with pirates and danger. But he soon discovers that he's not completely powerless - he has the Hercules Method's booklet, a mysterious text that promises to teach him incredible physical abilities. With the help of the booklet and his quick wits, Cedric manages to survive on his own as a street urchin in the lawless Four Clover Island. But he quickly realizes that he needs more than just physical strength to survive the world of One Piece and its treacherous seas. ----------------------------------------------------------------- This is a One Piece fic. It starts in South Blue on a lawless island unaffiliated with the World Government. The story's pacing will be moderate, not too slow, but not too fast. There will be no system or any gamer BS. That said, the protagonist won't go into the world of One Piece with nothing to help him. However, he will have to work hard to get stronger and achieve his goals. As always, I like to go with the flow when I write new stories, so I won't know if I'll add smut, harem, or romance until the plot progresses further, depending on whatever feels more natural at that point in time.

Wicked132 · Anime et bandes dessinées
Pas assez d’évaluations
190 Chs

The Spiders Cafe Showdown #157

Several days had passed since the conversation between Gem and Cedric, and the pieces of their plan had begun to fall into place. Princess Vivi and Igaram found themselves perched atop a sand dune in the vast desert, peering through binoculars at the Spiders Cafe in the distance. This was the place where the Frontier and Officer agents of the Baroque Works had gathered for their secret meeting.

Vivi's brows furrowed with curiosity and a touch of concern. She couldn't help but wonder why Khalifa had instructed them not to attend the meeting directly but instead to observe from afar. The princess was accustomed to taking decisive action, and this passive approach was somewhat unsettling.

Igaram, sensing her unease, cleared his throat before speaking. "Khalifa and Cedric probably have a plan," he said, trying to reassure Vivi. "I suspect it has something to do with the mole Cedric has within the Baroque Works ranks."

Vivi nodded, acknowledging the possibility. Despite her reservations, she trusted in Cedric's capabilities and Khalifa's judgment. They must have their reasons for this course of action, she thought.

Before she could voice her agreement, her words caught in her throat as a figure appeared on the horizon, riding atop a fiery cloud. It was Cedric, flying straight toward the Spiders Cafe in a spectacle that could only be described as awe-inspiring.

"Isn't that—" Vivi began, identifying the man as Cedric, but her sentence was cut short as Cedric made a swift and decisive move. He gestured toward the cafe's roof, summoning a searing fireball that hurtled toward the building with destructive force.

The fireball crashed into the cafe's roof, erupting in a blaze of flames that instantly reduced the structure to ruins. The once-secret meeting was now exposed to the scorching desert sun, and the Baroque Works agents within were caught off guard, scrambling to react to the sudden attack.

Vivi's eyes widened with surprise and concern at the unexpected turn of events. She couldn't deny Cedric's power and the boldness of his actions, but she couldn't shake the worry for the innocent lives that might be caught in the crossfire.

With the cafe now in chaos, Cedric descended from the fiery cloud, his expression resolute and focused. He landed amidst the disarray of the Baroque Works agents, who were now in a state of confusion and panic.

...

Perched on the ruined wall of the Spiders Cafe, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as I watched the chaos below. The Frontier Agents were running around like headless chickens, just as expected. But what caught my eye was how the Officer Agents were strangely chill, like they had a plan brewing.

With a smug grin, I decided to mess with their heads a bit. "You guys really messed with the wrong country," I called down, my voice oozing with confidence and a dash of menace. "Surrender now, and maybe I won't turn you into human pretzels."

Not that I expected them to chicken out, but I wanted to see how they'd react. Only two of them took the bait, stepping forward with cocky grins. It was Mr. 7 and Miss Father's Day, the oddest duo of the bunch.

Mr. 7 was a walking, talking number seven. The guy had sevens all over his body – eyebrows, shoes, gun, you name it. Even his movements looked like he was doing some funky seven dance.

As for Miss Father's Day, she had a thing for frogs, apparently. Her purple hair looked like something out of a cartoon, and her hat was like a frog on steroids, with these appendages sticking out, ending in white balls. It was a whole fashion statement and a half even.

Mr. 7 started talking trash first, trying to sound intimidating. "You got guts, I'll give you that, but you're seriously outnumbered, buddy," he said with a wicked grin. "It won't take more than me and my partner here to handle you! Ohahahaha!"

Miss Father's Day chimed in with her weird froggy laugh, "Geerogerogero! You're about to find out why we're the real deal!" She had this arrogant vibe that made her even more bizarre.

As theBaroque Works clowns tried to get under my skin with their taunts, I couldn't care less. My eyes were locked on Miss Father's Day, and let me tell you, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Under her hat, I spotted two balding spots, common with middle-aged men, that made her look like some genderbent or transgender version of Vegeta after a weird hormone treatment. It was almost too much to handle without cracking up.

I couldn't help but shake his head with a wary chuckle at Mr. 7 and Miss Father's Day's theatrics. "Well, I'm sure you are... those outfits of yours are sending chills down my spine just looking at them," I retorted, my tone laced with sarcasm. The other Baroque Works agents remained silent, content to let the two "fools" take the lead.

The two fools in question obnliged, and the scene was like something out of a cheesy action movie. Mr. 7 and Miss Father's Day were all about theatrics, showing off their fancy guns like they were the coolest thing since sliced bread.

Mr. 7's yellow flintlock pistol shot a bullet shaped like a dice, and it sailed through the air, doing this dramatic arc like it was auditioning for a circus act. On the other hand, Miss Father's Day's frog-shaped pistol fired a regular old bullet, no frills, just straight to the point.

.

The dice-shaped projectile and the bullet collided in an explosion of smoke and fire, but I didn't flinch a bit. I stood my ground, a smirk playing on my lips, while Mr. 7 and Miss Father's Day celebrated like they just won the lottery.

"Oh, we got him good!" Mr. 7 gloated, puffing his chest out like he was some kind of hero.

Miss Father's Day chimed in, her voice full of false bravado, "Yeah, we really showed him who's boss! You'll definitly be promoted for this!"

The other Baroque Works agents seemed to be buying into their act, frozen in place as they watched the spectacle unfold. But little did they know, they were about to witness a real show.

As the smoke billowed around me, I calmly raised my hand, feeling the heat of the explosion wash over me. And with a flick of my wrist, I dispersed the smoke, revealing myself completely unscathed.

Their smug smiles instantly melted into disbelief. It was like watching their over-inflated egos deflate in real-time, and it was quite satisfying.

"You call that an attack?" I taunted, raising an eyebrow at their feeble attempt.

Mr. 7 stammered, clearly at a loss for words. Miss Father's Day looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

The other Baroque Works agents finally snapped out of their stupor, their expressions turning from shock to confusion.

With a playful grin, I decided it was time to put an end to the show. "Alright, that's enough playing around," I declared, my voice carrying a mix of amusement and determination.

With a flick of my wrist, I summoned a blazing fireball and launched it at the ground between Mr. 7 and Miss Father's Day. The impact was explosive, sending the two would-be tough guys flying through the air, yelping like startled puppies.

The other Baroque Works agents stood there, exchanging wide-eyed glances, realizing that their bravado had gotten them nowhere. It was like watching a bunch of kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

But there was no time to waste. The dust from the explosion settled, and the agents quickly regained their composure, realizing they had a real fight on their hands.

They fanned out, surrounding me on all sides, looking as intimidating as a pack of hungry wolves. But I wasn't about to back down. In fact, their little stunt had only fueled my determination.

I cracked my knuckles, getting ready for the real fun to begin. "Alright, who's next?" I taunted, my grin widening. "Come on, don't be shy."

They didn't need any more encouragement. With a battle cry that was more amusing than menacing, they charged at me like a stampede of wild animals.