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East Blue, an unnamed town.
"Wahahaha! Boys, get moving! Take all the food and the women!"
A towering man over two meters tall, with a vicious expression and a crooked captain's hat on his head, stood at the bow of the ship, waving a rapier, yellow teeth flashing as he barked orders.
He was Otto Man, captain of the Sharpblade Pirates! Bounty: 8 million Berries!
"Woowoowoowoo!!" The pirates, already restless with anticipation, charged off the ship and began pillaging the town.
In an instant, the once-peaceful town was thrown into chaos. Screams and cries for mercy echoed in every direction...
"Captain, with all this noise, won't we attract the Marines?" A man with a cigarette in his mouth walked up to Otto Man, looking uneasy.
"Heh! Frank, who do you think I am?! I'm Otto Man! I did my homework—this place is right on the outskirts of the Loguetown Marine Base's jurisdiction."
"It'll take them a while to respond, and their top officer won't bother showing up. I've got an 8 million bounty, you know! Wahahaha!"
Otto Man's laugh was wild and smug. In the so-called "weakest sea," the East Blue, an 8 million bounty was enough to be considered a big-time pirate.
Frank fell silent. As the first mate with only a 5 million bounty, he couldn't challenge the captain's judgment.
Loguetown Port
Captain Arthur Randall stood with a solemn gaze, watching the Marine battleship slowly depart.
A faint smile played at the corners of his lips as he recalled a familiar silhouette sneaking aboard moments ago. The sternness on his face softened.
"Wha—!? Atlas, you brat! What are you doing here?!" Lieutenant Wright nearly dropped his jaw when he spotted Kanos Atlas lurking around suspiciously.
"Uh… reporting in, Lieutenant Wright. Chore Boy Kanos Atlas requesting permission to join the mission."
Caught red-handed, Atlas gave up on pretending and went all in. He thought to himself: Well, I'm already on the ship—what are you gonna do, throw me overboard?
"…Fine. You're a temporary onboard support worker now, brat!" Wright sighed, knowing he couldn't change the situation.
"But listen—once we land, stay in the rear and don't go wandering off. Every one of those pirates has a bounty of over 10 million Berries. This isn't a game!"
Wright's sharp brown eyes locked onto Atlas, warning him without saying the words: Say 'no' and I'll lock you up.
"…Alright, alright. Don't worry, Wright. I'll be careful," Atlas replied casually, his tone full of confidence in his strength.
Please note that the captain only has an $ 8 million bounty. Who knows how inflated that is anyway?
Atlas knew that bounties didn't always reflect real strength. Some pirates boosted their numbers through sheer infamy rather than actual combat skill.
Wright could tell Atlas wasn't taking him seriously. He sighed inwardly, already deciding he'd personally keep an eye on the brat during the fight.
After their talk, Atlas made his way to the armory. He picked out a standard Marine-issued sword.
It wasn't a Grade Blade, not even a Good or Great Grade—but it was still better than bare fists.
For now, his body hadn't reached the level required to learn Armament Haki. He couldn't even meet the minimum for the Marines' Rokushiki techniques.
In short, his physique was still within the limits of a normal human, so a sharp blade was his best bet.
Meanwhile, Wright reported the situation to his superior officers. Eventually, under a tense atmosphere, the Marine battleship reached its destination.
In the distance, a pirate flag came into view—a skull marked with a rapier running through it. The symbol of the Sharpblade Pirates.
The Marines on deck gripped their weapons tightly. Gulps echoed as tension built—they were heading into battle and war… war meant death.
Atlas, standing on the deck, had shed his usual lazy demeanor. His eyes were steady, not afraid, but burning with anticipation. Every cell in his body was ready to fight.
"Boss! The Marines are here! Should we retreat?" A lookout from the Sharpblade Pirates had spotted the incoming warship and sounded the alarm.
The pirates quickly pulled back from all corners of the town, only to run straight into the newly arrived Marines. The two forces clashed, and Kanos Atlas's first real battle began!
Atlas drew his blade, leaned forward, and dashed straight through the crowd, heading directly for Otto Man!
Wright's heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of the familiar figure.
Otto Man was startled at first, but when he saw it was just a lowly chore boy, he smirked in contempt.
"Strike first or get struck down!" Seeing Otto Man's underestimation, Atlas didn't hesitate. His grip tightened.
"One-Sword Style: Lion's Song!"
The dramatic name rolled off Atlas's tongue, filling the air with determined momentum.
It was, of course, Zoro's move—but in Atlas's hands, it was just a single powerful slash, used more for show.
Otto Man raised his rapier to block, but in the next instant, the force of the blow sent him flying across the battlefield, tumbling before skidding to a stop.
Atlas didn't let up. He stepped forward with another powerful slash.
Otto Man, though arrogant, was no fool—he rolled desperately to avoid a fatal blow.
But he still lost an arm.
"You little… brat…" Otto Man glared in disbelief, realizing a kid had crippled him.
Not everyone is "Red-Haired" Shanks—losing an arm and still becoming an Emperor.
Otto Man's future was over. If he even had a future. Before he could recover, Atlas charged again with a downward slash.
"Damn it!" Otto Man struck back, aiming his rapier at Atlas's heart.
But Atlas ducked low, feinted, and struck upward, straight into Otto Man's thigh.
Blood sprayed as Otto Man collapsed, his leg mangled, his face pale and drenched in sweat. It had taken less than a minute. The battle was over.
The remaining pirates stared in disbelief. A mere Marine Chore Boy defeated their captain.
They tried to resist, but the outcome was clear. One by one, they surrendered and were tied up on the ground.
Soon, the battle was officially over. The Marines began cleaning up the aftermath with practiced discipline.
Wright walked up to Atlas and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, smiling quietly.
Atlas turned to him with a grin.
His bloodied face was smiling proudly, revealing eight perfectly white teeth. Bright and just a little eerie.
.....
Marine Calendar Year 1502. One year later. Marine Training Grounds
Kanos Atlas, age 14—Promoted to Warrant Officer of the Loguetown Marine Base.
"Huff… huff… huff… huff…"
Atlas was still rigorously training, never slacking off, even as the recognized leader of Loguetown's younger generation.
Even after slaying an 8-million Berries pirate and earning his rank, he still felt… weak. Incredibly weak.
After that battle, Atlas had been assigned to casualty reports and supply distribution.
There, he didn't see victory. He saw grief-stricken and hollow faces.
That's what it meant to be weak. And this world… This was a world where only the strong survived.
He had to get stronger! The thought lit a fire in him. His blade moved faster—
Crack! The bamboo sword snapped in half.
"Atlas, you brat! You're not getting another sword from me this month!"
A cranky old quartermaster nearby had just seen his fifth bamboo sword this month break in Atlas's hands.
"Heh… sorry," Atlas scratched his head with an awkward smile.
His body was growing fast, muscles and bones strengthening by the day.
Now, at 14 years old, Atlas stood two meters tall already, and was expected to reach three meters—the height of a Marine admiral—by adulthood.
"Atlas, bro!!"
A white-haired boy came running up from outside the training grounds, panting and leaning on his knees.
"Yo! Smoker," Atlas called back with a wave.
That's right—Smoker. The future "White Hunter." A powerful Marine who would one day repeatedly corner Luffy early in the story.
He hadn't eaten a Devil Fruit yet—still just a kid and Atlas's loyal tag-along.
Smoker, like Atlas, had joined the Marines shortly after the execution of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.
Just like Kanos Atlas, Smoker had started as a chore boy. Now, he had already risen to the rank of Private First Class in the base.
It was safe to say he was second only to Atlas. Of course, Smoker was fully aware of his strength-or lack thereof.
He figured he probably couldn't even withstand a single move from Atlas. After all, Atlas hadn't just been training hard at the base for the past year.
He had participated in nearly every single Marine operation. He knew that a flower raised in a greenhouse could never withstand the trials of the scorching sun.
To become a truly powerful warrior, one had to be forged in blood and fire. Combat skills and battle experience couldn't be gained through training alone.
Atlas had gone from returning injured after every mission to completing assignments almost completely unscathed.
His combat power had improved tremendously. At this point, he estimated that aside from the base's Captain Randall, there wasn't a single person at the Roguetown base who could rival him.
"You need something, Smoker, you little brat?" Atlas snapped out of his thoughts, finally remembering that Smoker had come to find him for a reason.
"Stop calling me a brat! We're the same age!" Smoker complained, clearly annoyed. They were the same age, after all—why did Atlas always treat him like a kid?
"Captain Randall asked to see you," Smoker said, passing along the message despite his frustration.
"Captain Randall? What does he want with me?" Atlas was a little puzzled but followed the order and headed straight for the Captain's office.
"Hey, old man Randall, what do you need from me?" Atlas pushed the door open and walked right in without knocking.
He didn't even hesitate—he and Randall were well-acquainted by now. Every time Atlas went on a mission, he had to report to Randall first.
They were practically on brotherly terms at this point.
"Hey! Atlas, you little punk, show some respect for your Captain! Could you at least knock before coming in for once?" Captain Randall scolded him right away.
Still, he didn't mind. As the rising star of the base, Atlas had earned a lot of tolerance from Randall.
The Captain was almost certain this brat's potential wouldn't stop at Loguetown. Becoming a Vice Admiral at Marine Headquarters one day? That was very possible.
Atlas had all the makings of a true powerhouse—a monstrous natural talent and an unshakable will.
"Alright, enough with the chatter. I called you here for two reasons." Hearing that, Atlas immediately straightened up, his expression turning serious.
Randall nodded in satisfaction and continued, "First, would you be interested in attending the recruit training camp at Marine Headquarters for a while?"
Atlas was stunned for a moment. The Marine HQ Recruit Training Camp was essentially an officer-producing powerhouse.
Almost everyone who graduated from there ended up with the rank of at least a lieutenant or captain—it was the fast track to success.
What's more, the camp's head instructor was none other than Black Arm Zephyr, a former Admiral.
The The current three monster Vice Admirals—Borsalino (Kizaru), Sakazuki (Akainu), and Kuzan (Aokiji)—had all trained under him!
Naturally, Atlas was eager to go. That camp provided the most complete training in both Rokushiki and Haki, and would be a cornerstone on his journey to becoming one of the strongest Marines.
"There are a few slots available from this base, so I wanted to see if you're interested," Randall said, seeing that Atlas hadn't responded yet.
"Captain, I want to go—but not right now. I haven't reached my limit yet, and I don't think it's the right time for me to head to Headquarters."
Atlas gave the idea serious thought before answering firmly. He was still young, and his growth hadn't yet peaked.
Going now would be a waste of this precious opportunity. What he needed to do was continue sharpening his foundation.
"Hmm, fair enough. I'll reserve your spot, then. When the time comes, you and Smoker will head to HQ together," Randall said with a nod of approval.
Having that kind of self-awareness at such a young age was rare—it proved Atlas was a promising talent.
"Smoker?" Atlas raised an eyebrow.
"That's right. Originally, I planned to send you first and let Smoker join a few years later since he's still a bit too weak right now."
"But when the time comes, I'll count on you to look after him a bit," Randall explained.
"No problem, Captain. I'll keep an eye on that little brat, Smoker," Atlas replied with a grin.
Randall didn't react to the nickname. First, he had already gotten used to Atlas's blunt way of speaking.
Second, Atlas was so mature for his age that it was easy to forget he was still just a kid. "Alright then… now, for the second matter—"
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