Chapter 1 - Weakness is a Sin
The year is 1515 of the Sea Circle Calendar, early summer.
North Blue, Lubneiru Kingdom, Red Leaf Village.
Orange flames licked the collapsed houses, and the stench of blood mixed with the soil. Twisted and broken limbs resembled shattered porcelain, decorating this isolated island like a hellish landscape.
Rosha extended his emaciated hands, digging through the ruins of the crumbled buildings.
The ashes he stirred covered his head and face, and the wooden blocks and soil he touched were still hot, burning his hands red and blistered.
But he seemed unaware of the pain, continuing to dig desperately.
His expressionless face gradually twisted into a ferocious grin, revealing his teeth like a bloodthirsty hyena.
Rosha finally found what he was looking for after tossing aside a charred, broken wooden board.
A corpse emitting the stench of burnt flesh.
The corpse wore simple hemp clothing, curled up with its back to him. The exposed skin was blackened and red, like the surface of solidified lava.
It was a short, shriveled old man.
Seeing this old man, the ferocity on Rosha's face faded, replaced by a touch of gentleness.
He gently picked up the curled-up old man, holding him as if cradling a sleeping baby.
The old man's face was preserved, his expression pained, eyes wide open in death. His wrinkled face showed no ferocity, only a mix of relief and guilt.
Rosha noticed something tightly gripped in the old man's right hand, clenched against his abdomen.
He reached out to take it.
The old man's hand was tightly clenched, as if holding the most important thing in his life.
It was a piece of bread, a black bread.
A piece of bread as hard as a stone, capable of cracking someone's skull.
Gurgle, gurgle…
Rosha's stomach growled audibly.
"Be quiet…"
Rosha whispered, placing the hard black bread back into the old man's hand and gently laying him on the ground.
Gurgle, gurgle…
"I told you to be quiet…"
He spread his skeletal fingers and began digging a hole in the ground.
The land, scorched by fire, was hard as iron, and his fingers quickly became bloody. But Rosha seemed unfazed, digging faster and faster.
Gurgle, gurgle…
"I told you to stop making noise!"
Bang!
A bony fist struck his own abdomen hard. Rosha opened his mouth, blood-tinged saliva dripping from his lips. His eyes turned bloodshot, and he twisted his head to look behind him.
"Soon… I'll be full soon."
Laughter and women's pained moans grew more apparent in his ears.
"Ha ha ha! Boys, vent all you want! These foolish, weak civilians really have no self-awareness. If they had obediently handed over the women, food, and treasure, they wouldn't be facing this. They chose to resist, so they should be ready to be slaughtered!"
"They're as weak as insects yet dare to negotiate with us, claiming everyone would starve without food, even threatening us with the Marines. How foolish! On such a remote island, there are countless like this in North Blue. The Marines can't be everywhere. Do they even know who I am? I'm Jack the Ripper, with a bounty of 16 million berries!"
"That's right! With Captain Jericho's power, even if a Marine ship comes, it'll just be sending food to us!"
"Who would've thought our first raid would be this enjoyable? Being a pirate is so free. Following Captain Jericho is the smartest thing I've ever done! Cheers to the great Captain Jericho!"
The pirates walked arm in arm, laughing and carrying bottles of wine as they strolled through the village, which glowed with red light. They occasionally commented on the collapsed houses and bodies, boasting about their deeds.
Suddenly, a drunken pirate squinted his blurry eyes and saw a tall figure kneeling in the ruins, doing something strange.
"Who's there?!"
The pirate shouted. The tall figure paused, then turned stiffly to look at them.
Seeing the figure's face, the pirate felt a chill rush from his feet to his head, scaring him into falling to the ground and screaming, "A ghost! A villager's ghost!"
"What's all the noise?! There's no such thing as ghosts! You're a pirate, and yet… huh…"
Standing at 1.8 meters tall and well-built, Jericho reprimanded, then followed the pirate's gaze. He saw a man over 2.3 meters tall, emaciated and skeletal, rising slowly from the ruins of a collapsed wooden house.
As the figure turned, Jericho saw a gaunt face with sunken eyes, protruding cheekbones, and disheveled white hair.
Bloodshot eyes and a twisted grin emanated an inhuman aura.
His skeletal frame made him look like a walking corpse.
Even Jericho, despite his psychological preparedness, felt a jolt of fear.
The atmosphere became tense; the pirates held their breath, fearing to disturb the skeletal figure.
This eerie tension was soon broken by a gurgling sound from the figure's stomach.
"Damn! Just a starving wretch!" The pirates, relieved but humiliated, felt anger boiling up.
They had almost been scared to death by a starving civilian.
"Damn it, let me kill him!"
A pirate angrily drew a flintlock pistol from his waist and started loading it awkwardly.
"Don't waste bullets on this wretch. With his skeletal body, a gust of wind would break him. Let me break him into bones!"
The pirate, who had been scared to the ground, grinned viciously, stepping forward towards Rosha.
He picked up a smoldering stick from the ground, sneering at the slowly approaching Rosha. Gripping the stick with both hands, he aimed a cruel jab at Rosha's abdomen.
"Kid, daring to play ghost, scaring me half to death, let me show you!"
The pirate's sinister move drew laughter from the other pirates.
"Ha ha ha, Old Jerry is too mean, the poor guy is already so miserable, yet using such a dirty trick."
"Yeah, didn't you hear his stomach growling? Can't you just give him a quick death? Ha ha ha."
Sizzle…
The smell of burning flesh and black smoke rose.
Old Jerry's face showed delight, ready to gloat, but a bony hand shot through the black smoke, fingers digging into his face, lifting the screaming pirate into the air.
That monstrous face came close, whispering:
"Tell me, is being weak a sin?"
A new book-seeking collection and reading. This book has a slow start; the protagonist gets the Devil Fruit ability in chapter 58, and it's not an invincible story. The protagonist's talent is having bones as hard as steel, but not his skin and muscles. He's severely malnourished and needs time to recover and grow. He can't compare to Big Mom's wealth and food; he's been barely surviving for twelve years.
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