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One Piece: Reborn as a Skypiean

Synopsis: He tried to hard, but the race ended just before he could cross the finish line. At least, dying to a rogue school bus wasn’t the end of him. To all it’s worth, he was now reborn in a world where he could finally put his wits to achieve greater things. “Well, where to start…” Amon mumbled to himself as the wings behind his back itched. “Maybe World Domination?” Yes, this is the story of Amon— the Emperor of Sky— the lone man who wanted everything. -—- Main Character, Amon, will be reborn as a Skypiean, or to be more specific, he will be a Shandorian. Disclaimer— Main Character is extremely manipulative of the people around him. An immoral bastard who doesn’t have a limit on how low he can stoop.

Master4thWall · アニメ·コミックス
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276 Chs

Death

Chapter 1

"Don't mix with bad kids, and stay away from girls. I heard college kids do fishy stuff." 

The woman in her late 30s said just as she tidied my old jacket.

She raised her head and gave me a stern look. "If a girl comes to you by herself only then talk, okay?" 

I smiled before shrugging her hands off. "Sure, I will keep that in mind."

Looking at her again, she had a decent figure with her hair tied in a ponytail. She looked rather beautiful for a middle-aged woman, but the bags under her eyes proved her not-so-beautiful life. 

She's my mom. My only family besides my older brother. 

"Be careful on your way, son," She said from the door, waving her hands. "And watch out for cars!"

Smiling at her and waving off, I shook my head. She always worries too much when it comes down to family. 

—★—

Our house was an average one-story building, barely enough for two people. From there, just as I walked out of the front gate, my smile vanished in thin air. I shot a look back at our old house and a thought crossed my mind.

Unfortunately, I can't help but mix with bad kids, mom. That's one way for me to make connections.

I started walking again through the cold, foggy morning. For reasons unknown, this type of atmosphere is my favourite.

Life is beautiful – that's a lie. Life is beautiful when you have money – that's the truth. Money can't buy happiness – that's another lie. Money can buy you happiness as long as you have enough and know how to manage it – that's the truth.

Why am I speaking philosophical shit all of a sudden? Because I can confirm my statements. Back in the day, I have been at the top of society, and now I am at the bottom. Only when a person experiences both ends of the coin would he understand the real meaning behind it all.

A cold breeze brushed past my cheeks just as I rubbed my palms together before puffing a hot breath in them.

4 years ago, I would have never had to walk to college, let alone wear this cheap failure of a jacket. But good things never last, do they?

When I was a child, I was a cheerful one who was the apple of my parents' eyes. Then puberty hit and the bastard who never cared to ask how his parents were doing, came to be. Since puberty, I had quite a bit of development in the period of 48 months. My father's death was indeed a big hit to me.

"I guess it will take me around half an hour…"

I was going to college, and luckily college wasn't that far from my house. I had to choose a worse college than one that I could have gotten into because of the distance. We didn't have money to spare for me to go and study in another city.

My dad was a police officer. He was an honest one, I can tell because I have done my research after his death. That's exactly what brought his demise.

He once told us about the offer he got from an Underworld Lord. "Free my brother, and you will be richer than ever." That was a very tempting offer to me, but dad apparently didn't want to do evil. He declined of course, and instead, a few days later, he captured the same criminal who had made the offer. 

That was a foolish move, I knew the moment I heard that. Unless we were lucky, things would have turned haywire. Fortunately, we were indeed lucky, at least everyone else in the family beside dad was. 

The jail where he kept the criminal was raided just a day after his capture, and there, dad died in a crossfire.

It's only later that we learned that he was shot to death by a fellow police officer, not a criminal. The sadness of losing my father all vanished in thin air, and rage took its place. But I had no idea who the policeman was, and even then, the guy apparently did it accidentally. 

But guess what, just days later, one of the policeman uncles I was very familiar with, one of my father's close friends per se, got a huge promotion even though the base he was supposed to defend was raided just recently. Dots were matching, and I knew who I needed to kill.

But then again, killing's not as simple as it sounds. He was also a policeman. I could indeed catch him off guard since we were close in the past, and he wouldn't expect me to know that he is the culprit. But what after? After I kill him, what happens to me? Jail? Or execution? 

Killing him would achieve my revenge, but my death would just leave my family as it was before. Empty.

I needed a better plan. So I made one. But another problem rose just then.

My older brother fell ill, not just any illness, but a serious one. Osteoporosis. A disease that made his spine so weak that he couldn't get up from bed. My dad's death left us with his pension, which we used all in the hospital just to cure him.

Then the hardest part started. We now had no money, and my previous plan was based on money. My brother was cured, but he needed to rest for months. He couldn't attend his high school final, so he had to retry next time. But next was just a dream since we had no money to even keep him studying in school. Same with me.

So I took in a job, of course. Child labour was illegal, but so was bribing, does that mean people don't do that? They do, and so I found myself working on a construction site. 

I had to hide this from my mother, but my brother knew. I just told my mother I worked in an internet cafe and did blogging and stuff, but I in truth knew jack-shit about that at all. My mother was devastated when she one day met face to face with bricks in my head, right at my work. 

I was forced to stop working. Things turned out worse, and my brother's illness also started acting up again. It was all a mess. Life wasn't going anywhere, and we were meeting a dead end. We asked for our relatives' help, but they already helped us - if that even be called help - back in the first surgery. Now they were refusing to do so, saying they were lacking money themselves, and that we should take a loan instead, or sell our house. 

But taking out a loan was dangerous for us – since we knew we wouldn't be able to pay it back anytime soon – but so was selling our house. We had memories of growing up in the house. Abandoning that was just… not right.

We then tried to beg for our father's colleagues. Surely, they worked together for decades, they will help, right? We were wrong. They refused, and some never even picked our calls. I even begged the bastard who I was sure killed my dad, assuming he would at least help us out of guilt, but humans are apparently scummier than I thought. 

When they all refused, I was back to square one again I had to kill him, no, I had to kill them. 

Each person we called to, their names, their address, their basic info, I had it memorized in my head. I just had to gain power and influence next. Some needed to die, like that police bastard, but some would need to experience hell on earth.

We sold out our house and spent it all behind my brother again. He was this time 100% cured and started doing some online jobs after buying a computer from the loan. Things weren't the best now, but it was much better.

I got admitted into high school for the first time, but I was already two years older than the others. That didn't shame me though, that was instead an opportunity. They say life isn't a movie, but the high school kids do think of it as one. With a larger body than others, with muscles that I gained from working in the construction site, it was a matter of weeks before I had a gang of my own. I was never a good student, but I forced myself to study hard. Acing was an everyday meal for me. 

I was growing.

Things were moving smoothly as I played my cards just right. I had to ignore a lot of girls, since I truly didn't have the luxury to maintain a girlfriend. But I did have my own share of experience with them. Apparently having kids with girlfriends within your gang was more beneficial than I thought at first.

In my high school life, I didn't have to spend even 100 cents, if I recall correctly. Everything, from my cafeteria to my school fees, was paid by my minions. It was a great way to live. 

Was I doing wrong, evil even? Maybe. 

Did I care though? Not at all. 

My father died being an honest man, I respect that, but I won't die like that. If it needs me to become evil, a scum even, just like the people I hate the most, I will do it – as long as I get powerful. 

My minions actually had their own influence. Their family was rich, and their mind was moulded to abuse that richness. It's in fact with their help that I got admitted into a college nearby, even though it is worse than the other chances I had. I, after all, couldn't use their money after separating from them, none of them had good grades, so they could only get into some average colleges. I would never stick to them in such a place just because of a few bucks.

Today, as I was walking to my college, I was stepping closer to my goal each second. Closer to becoming influential, gaining political powers, and closer to repaying some certain debts.

My plan's second stage would start soon. Because of one of my minions, I got some useful information. There are quite a few rich girls in the college I am attending. Although I said I didn't have the luxury to maintain a girlfriend, if she had the luxury to maintain a boyfriend instead, that would do too. Making a rich girl my puppet wouldn't be hard at all. 

It's all coming together, my near future crystal clear, just as I stepped into the Zebra crossing. The light was green, I have paid attention, of course, I didn't want to die because of a random car accident-

The world spun.

BEEEEP!

From the foggy distance where my eyes couldn't react, a yellow bus, a school bus, rushed at me. I moved my legs, but I was too slow. My eyes caught the driver's face, he was dizzy, his mouth foaming. That bastard was drunk!

The world went sluggish as the school bus hit me in the face, throwing me meters behind only to roll its tires over my skull the next second.

My brain matter spilt all over, but my consciousness hadn't faded yet. Wow, that's strange. Do I get stuck like this forever? Is this how the afterlife actually feels like?

I was proved wrong just as the world turned black and I could only curse whichever God oversaw the world, the universe.

All my plans, all my hard work, all my dreams… they came to an end with my last breath.

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Author's Note: The main character would be an evil scumbag who will use other people for his benefit. If you're not okay with that, it's better to stop here.

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