Sea Circle Calendar, End of Year 1516.
In the West Blue lay a small town known as Rumtown.
West Blue was a sea with a culture unlike any other. The most famous figures here were not pirates—but gangsters.
Ever since Gol D. Roger ignited the Great Pirate Era, the other three seas had gradually been swallowed by the rising tide of piracy. But West Blue was different. Its entrenched gangster culture remained unshaken, the only sea among the four that had not been completely overwhelmed by the pirate craze.
The dominance of that culture had fueled the unchecked rise of gangs across West Blue.
Rumtown was no exception.
With this small town at its center, the underground world of dozens of surrounding villages across the entire island was controlled by a single organization—the Sword Gang.
In the heart of Rumtown stood a luxurious manor. It served as the headquarters of the Sword Gang.
Shrouded in mist, one could find within the manor a bath chamber nearly one hundred square meters in size. At its center rested a massive bathtub large enough to rival a swimming pool.
At this moment, a handsome, powerfully built young man—nearly two meters tall—lay immersed in the warm water. His eyes were closed as he rested against the edge of the bath, his firm back leaning casually along the stone rim.
Anyone from Rumtown who saw him would instantly recognize the man as the leader of the Sword Gang—Kaito Arisawa.
Though steam filled the air, the scars on Kaito's upper body were still faintly visible above the waterline.
There were sword cuts. Bullet wounds. Marks carved by blades and gunfire alike.
For someone who had spent years walking the brutal path of the underworld, such scars were commonplace.
Yet against the backdrop of his strong, sculpted muscles, those wounds did not appear unsightly. Instead, they lent him a harsher, more commanding presence.
Life's twists really are unbelievable. I never imagined I'd be handed an opportunity like this…
Half-submerged in the water, Kaito appeared to be resting. In truth, his consciousness was focused inward, staring at something that only he could see.
His cheat.
Just one day ago, Kaito had believed himself to be a native of this world.
But a sudden high fever had changed everything.
When the fever broke, memories that did not belong to this life flooded into his mind—memories of another world. Another existence. A previous life.
And the most shocking revelation of all?
In those past-life memories, the world he now inhabited had once existed as an anime.
After waking from the fever, the weight of that realization had stunned him. But the years he had spent fighting through the underworld had hardened his spirit. Adaptation came quickly.
More importantly, along with those awakened memories came something else.
A system.
When he concentrated, Kaito could sense a character panel in his mind—something resembling the stat screen from a video game.
It displayed:
[Constitution: 1.4]
[Fighting: 1.3]
[Weapon: 1.8]
[Armament Haki: 1.3]
[Observation Haki: 1.5]
[Conqueror's Haki: 1.1]
The information was simple and concise. The moment it had appeared, knowledge had naturally accompanied it.
Strictly speaking, it was not a "character panel."
It was a Talent Panel.
The numbers represented every aspect of Kaito's innate talent.
"At first, I thought I was a genius. Turns out… I'm only slightly above average."
He didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.
According to the information he had received, an ordinary person's talent in any category was measured at 1.0.
While every one of Kaito's attributes exceeded that baseline, none of them did so by a wide margin. Even his highest stat—Weapon—was only 0.8 points above average.
And before this revelation, he had been confident in his talent.
That confidence came from experience.
He was an orphan raised by a pirate. That pirate believed in the supremacy of force above all else—and named him Kaito Arisawa in accordance with that philosophy.
From a young age, Kaito understood the importance of strength. Under his adoptive father's influence, he had long harbored the ambition to become a pirate himself.
Even before awakening his past-life memories, he had never been reckless or foolish. He knew clearly that if he wanted to sail the seas, he would need overwhelming strength first.
After his adoptive father's death, Kaito had thrown himself into West Blue's gangster world as a teenager.
On one hand, it allowed him to temper his strength through constant battle.
On the other, it gave him the chance to cultivate loyal subordinates before eventually setting sail.
Years passed.
Now nineteen, Kaito had undeniably achieved what he set out to accomplish.
Through countless fights, he had built the Sword Gang into a force of fifteen hundred men. And more importantly, he had gained power that ordinary people could only envy.
As proof of his strength, he had once personally slain a pirate with a 30 million Berry bounty while out at sea purchasing supplies.
In West Blue, that feat alone was enough to classify him as a master.
If not for his ambition to become a pirate, his influence and territory would undoubtedly have expanded far beyond what it currently was.
After examining his talent attributes, Kaito shifted his focus to testing the panel itself.
Its usage was surprisingly simple.
Talent could be adjusted.
More precisely, talent could be redistributed.
Through conscious control, he could gather talent from different categories and concentrate it into one.
With a preliminary attempt, Kaito focused his will and directed all his talent into Constitution.
The panel instantly changed.
[Constitution: 7.9 (1.4)]
[Fighting: 0.1 (1.3)]
[Weapon: 0.1 (1.8)]
[Armament Haki: 0.1 (1.3)]
[Observation Haki: 0.1 (1.5)]
[Conqueror's Haki: 0.1 (1.1)]
The system retained a minimum value of 0.1 for each attribute.
Even so, the concentration caused his Constitution to skyrocket to an astonishing 7.9.
And the moment the panel shifted—
Boom!!
It felt as though something exploded inside his body.
An indescribable sensation surged through him. His pupils contracted sharply as an overwhelming torrent of power erupted from within.
Outwardly, nothing appeared to change.
But internally—
Everything was transforming.
His skin.
His muscles.
His organs.
Even his very cells.
It felt as though they had been reforged.
Like scattered gravel melted down and recast into tempered steel.
The most intuitive sensation was strength.
Endless.
Violent.
Surging without limit.
Power flooded every inch of his body, so intense it almost made him feel as though he could split the heavens and shatter the earth with his bare hands.
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