Chapter 1: The Last Scroll and the First Breath

A new story, i will post the first 10 chapters through the day, so please read all of them before deciding if you want to continue or drop it.

I took inspiration from the Chinese One Piece novel translation of the scientist that has a simulation system and makes clones of strong characters.

But i wanted to write a story without a system with only an mc that has only his intelligence and a talented body as a gift.

I want to make things clear tho.

This is an AU as i don't have the complete knowledge about One Piece and could make mistakes, or i can just change things.

The mc doesn't know everything about the plot, nor he is perfect, he can make mistakes or change ideas.

Every chapter is about 1030 to 1500 words, it varies.

I update every day unless i don't have time or something happens, as i work full time.

This doesn't take the word count.

Good read.

----

May 12, 2023.

Orion lounged on his unmade bed, the room dimly lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through half-drawn curtains. Books, papers, and an old guitar were strewn across the floor, remnants of his endless curiosity. The cool blue glow of his phone reflected off his deep brown eyes as he scrolled through TikTok. A video caught his attention, an all-too-familiar clip that popped up now and then: a choice between two pills.

A smooth voice narrated, "Red pill: unparalleled plot armor. Blue pill: unparalleled intelligence."

Orion's lips twitched into a smirk. The choice was obvious to him. 'Plot armor might save you, but intelligence lets you control the game.' He tapped the screen, hovering over the blue pill option before commenting, "With intelligence, there's no limit to what I could achieve."

He scrolled further, reading the chatter below.

"Red pill, no question! You'd be unstoppable!"

"Blue, definitely. Imagine outsmarting everyone!"

"You're all overthinking it. Just choose red and never worry about dying."

Orion rolled his eyes, muttering, "Narrow-minded, all of you." He set the phone down for a moment and stared at the ceiling. His mind was sharp, always racing, dissecting, strategizing. To him, life was a puzzle, and he believed that with enough intellect, even fate could be bent.

A low rumble in his stomach broke his train of thought. The grocery list tacked to the fridge downstairs reminded him of his neglected task. With a sigh, he grabbed his jacket and wallet and headed out, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

The late spring air was crisp, carrying with it the distant chatter of neighbors and the occasional bark of a dog. Orion kept one eye on the sidewalk, the other glued to his phone as he walked. A new video had popped up on his feed, a manga edit. Luffy, the ever-smiling pirate captain, was in the throes of battle, transforming into Gear Five. The animation was chaotic, vibrant, raw energy crackling from every stroke.

'Gear Five, huh?' he thought, feeling a strange pang of envy. The boundless freedom Luffy had, the drive to break through any limit, Orion felt trapped in comparison, chained by the mundane constraints of reality.

The video looped as he walked past rows of parked cars and street-side stores. His focus was so absorbed that he almost didn't hear the shout of warning behind him until it was too late.

"Watch out!"

A blur of motion came into view. The world seemed to slow as a bicycle, moving far too fast, veered sharply and slammed into him. The impact sent him flying, the pavement rushing up to meet him with a brutal thud. Pain shot through his body like a wildfire, searing and unrelenting. He gasped, eyes wide as his vision fractured into a kaleidoscope of dark spots. Blood pooled beneath him, warm and sticky.

His fingers twitched, reaching for his phone which lay cracked and buzzing weakly beside him. The screen glitched, showing the last image he'd seen, Luffy's eyes, wide and unyielding. The edges of Orion's vision began to fade, darkness seeping in. His final thought wasn't of fear or regret, but of a simple, surreal realization:

'This is it.'

And then, nothing.

....

Light. Bright, relentless, blinding. Orion's eyes fluttered open, a groan escaping his lips as he was greeted by the glare of the sun directly above him. His head pounded, but it was different now, clearer, sharper. Every nerve in his body felt more alive, more in tune with the world around him. He could hear the rhythmic crash of waves, the distant cries of gulls circling the shore, the gentle rustle of palm leaves in the wind.

Pushing himself up, Orion squinted, taking in his surroundings. Sand clung to his clothes, warm and gritty, while a soft breeze carried the scent of salt and open water. Before him stretched an expanse of turquoise sea, the horizon cutting a perfect line between sky and ocean. The sun was brighter here, almost unnaturally so, bathing everything in vivid detail.

He flexed his fingers and frowned. Everything felt heightened, as if his senses had been cranked up several notches. Even his thoughts came with a new clarity, racing with startling precision. Memories of his past life were hazy, like scenes from a half-forgotten dream. He remembered the important parts, his name, Orion, and the way he'd always been driven by intellect, but the rest was like smoke, slipping through his grasp.

Orion turned and saw a port town behind him. The buildings were wooden, painted in faded pastel colors with roofs of red clay tiles. Narrow streets wound through a bustling market filled with the sounds of trade. He approached slowly, taking note of the scene. Ships of various sizes rocked gently in the harbor, their sails fluttering in the breeze.

A group of dockworkers carried crates off a large merchant ship, their shirts stained with sweat as they exchanged banter. One man stood out, a giant, easily four meters tall, muscles bulging as he lifted two crates without breaking a sweat. Orion's eyes widened slightly, but he forced his expression into something neutral.

'Don't draw attention,' he told himself.

He kept moving, weaving between merchants calling out their prices and customers haggling with sharp gestures. The voices around him were loud and animated, but unintelligible. The language was familiar in the way that dreams were, almost understandable but just out of reach.

"Ɛξτλ οφτια!" shouted a fruit vendor, waving a bright yellow fruit that resembled a spiky pineapple.

"Ωρεζα, κανενοσ;" called a man who looked like a fisherman, holding up a string of fish.

Orion frowned. The words didn't register, but the context did. He could pick up on the urgency of a question, the familiarity of casual speech versus the clipped, annoyed tones of a heated argument. His sharp mind soaked up these details like a sponge, processing and cataloging them with a newfound ease.

He brushed past a group of women laughing outside a small café. Their dresses were made of lightweight fabric, patterned with tropical flowers, and their hair was wrapped in bright scarves. They gave him a curious glance, but he kept his eyes forward, careful not to draw any more looks. His clothes were plain, a white tunic and dark trousers, clearly different from the more vibrant attire around him.

The streets were lively, lined with stalls selling everything from spices to woven baskets. He passed by a blacksmith hammering away at a glowing piece of metal, sweat glistening on his forehead as he worked with practiced ease. A child darted past him, giggling as he chased a small, yapping dog.

Orion's eyes drifted to a large wooden wall near the center of town, plastered with faded papers. He approached, curious, until he saw the images clearly: bounty posters, each with a name and number scrawled beneath a sketched face. The largest and most worn depicted a grinning man with a straw hat.

Orion's breath caught, and he whispered, voice low and disbelieving, "O-One... Piece."

The world spun for a moment, a flood of images and fragmented memories returning with a vengeance. TikTok videos of epic battles, theories about hidden powers, edits of pirates clashing on the high seas. His eyes darted around, taking in the reality of the scene, this was real. He was here.

Somewhere nearby, a vendor's voice rang out with enthusiasm, "Τυρεδεα πλιγορα!"

Orion didn't need to understand the language to know what his gut was telling him: he was standing in the world he had only known through snippets and stories.

And for the first time, he felt truly alive.

----

I will drop all 10 chapters through this day.