Despite the oddities that just occurred, he still needed to fix this situation before figuring out what on earth is happening with him. Bruce was convinced that this was just the rapid firing of synapses before his death, it was just too weird to be true. On the off chance he had- by some twist of fate been transported into the One Piece world, he'd have to stick to his ideals and fight.

With that said, if he needed to be an effective fighter, it would do him good to embrace this RPG system, the dilemma came when figuring out what he should apply these 'Unassigned points' towards. With his Strength at an 8 and Vitality at 10, it only made sense to top up Agility, he was lethal enough as it is when using the blade.

Agility: 5 8

"FU-AAGH-K!?"

Pain riveted through his body, sharp enough to stifle the reflexive expletive throttling from his mouth. His tendons began to tear and reform, the muscle fibers throughout his entire body felt as though it had turned into liquid as he collapsed onto the floor, though he swiftly regained solidity and new muscle took its place.

"Hnngh.."

The pain had dissipated as shortly as it came, but proceeding shock made it feel like he was drowning, he could hardly breathe following that experience until 10 seconds later as he began to cough his lungs out, finally coming to his senses. He felt a tinge of regret, the time that had passed meant that these pirates were ever closer to endangering civilians. There was also the fact that he had just gone through the most painful experience in his life, but that was neither here nor there.

Bruce quickly rose to his feet quicker than he's ever done thanks to his speed increasing by a whopping 60%. It was odd feeling the immediate reward for any amount of labor you've put in, but it was also euphoric, a dragon he'd like to chase later on and something that could be achieved by doing his damn 'job' already.

Bruce was lucky he didn't get butchered when he was suffering from the events prior, knowing what he knows now, he intended to never get put in that position of vulnerability again. Bruce sprinted in the direction of any building he could feasibly climb, though as he wasn't used to this new speed he collapsed swiftly, letting out a sigh of frustration.

"Cmon cmon.."

He urgently got back onto his feet, running with a little bit more thought behind each step as he went to his target destination: A small shack in the middle of the village. He quickly scaled it and used it to get a bird's eye view on the carnage. The pillaging had only begun a few minutes ago so the casualties suffered were minimal and he intended to keep it that way. Despite his courage he was frozen on top of this shack, suffering from decision paralysis. There were multiple groups he could approach but in ambushing one, another would be able to wreak havoc. A tough yet uninformed decision had to be made.

Two whiplike sonic booms propagated throughout the air as a group of four marines rolled out, shooting two pirates dead on the spot. Bruce recoiled at the sound, shuddered even. The sound shook him to his very core in a way it hadn't before, it was the last sound he had heard after his 'death' after all. He stood there in shock for a few moments, additional periods of indecisiveness piling up as he was stuck atop this shack. He cursed himself for his incompetence, striking his cheek to literally slap him out of this trance. With a few quick breaths he just settled on one group to target, hoping the marines would handily take care of the rest.

Bruce hopped from the shack, landing on the ground heavily as he then stumbled to his destination, his balance faltering from both the unstable landing and the jelly-like consistency of his legs. He hugged the walls leading to those he was hoping to attack, each step solidifying his resolve more and more the deeper he went past the point of no return. As he turned the corner at the house the pirates were at, they managed to find their way in through a salvo of alternating stomps against the shoddy door.

Bruce gave chase, sneakily lunging at one from behind whilst extending a blade out, the tip brutally grinding against his spine and exiting out the other end. Bruce grunted as he continued to drive forward, maintaining his overall strategy of overwhelming the opponent to pile the first man into the second and finally, third. The man at the end of the corridor managed to step out in time as Bruce collapsed over two of his enemies. As he raised a blade over them a boot smacked against the underside of his jaw, throttling his head back and laying him out on his back.

Bruce was reasonably afraid at this point, hurriedly crawling back as the trio gave chase, albeit hindered as one was under a man who had just been turned quadriplegic and another was behind them. This gave him enough time to return to his feet at the doorway though he was still pushed onto his backfoot.

A boot slammed against his gut, laying Bruce out yet again as a pirate brought a cutlass down into his chest. In a wild and uncalculated flailing of his limbs he managed to deflect the blade aside and, as if on autopilot, drove his own weapon into the man's thigh over and over before tipping him off.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Bruce shrieked as the final man rushed towards him, waving his stained kitchen knife uselessly at the final foe.

The thunderous crack of a projectile traveling at supersonic speeds was heard ,and a clean hole was made on both sides of their skull. The bullet was fired by a marine who was scouring the island for any remaining pirates. The swashbuckler collapsed and landed heavily onto Bruce, his blade clattering on the ground beside him. Bruce forcefully tipped him to the side where his colleague was left bleeding out from the thigh.

Bruce slowly got up to his feet and picked at his teeth, wiggling a molar back and forth, managing to get a nail between the gum and it. With a forceful tug he extracted the tooth that had been knocked loose thanks to that kick to the jaw, spitting out a thick glob of blood. This was all the while he processed what just happened, the subsequent shock after genuinely fearing for his life electrified his senses, his hands starting to shake uncontrollably.

His ideals wavered easily it seemed, a man eager to fight for the sake of his 'principles' was shook so heavily to his core when the threat of what he had done unto others was brought to him. Bruce frankly didn't want to fight anymore, he was hardly in a state to do so, not because of his injuries, but a combination of a weak resolve and the insane adrenaline dump he was feeling.

Bruce's head tilted down, lacking the energy to maintain a good posture, as his eyes incidentally glared downwards he noticed something odd, glowing. Particles that resembled galaxy-colored fireflies hovered over the corpse of the man he had stabbed in the leg, mustering the last of his energy he trundled over, passing a hand through it. As he did so, a screen emerged with Bruce taking a step back.

Loot:

Garbage Chest:

Y/N

"You've gotta be shitting me." He spoke aloud to nobody in particular. A slight smile formed as Bruce chuckled at the absurdity of it all, going through one of the most exhilarating yet frightening periods of his life only to cap it off by simply collecting a 'Garbage Chest' from one of the bodies as if it were a game. Well.. it wouldn't be too far off to say that it is, but the idea stuck true.

"Alright, I'll give it a go." Bruce attempted to mentally accept this offer, a small, damp, cardboard box promptly materialized in his hands with sludge dripping out the sides. Bruce wiped the box off and flicked his hands out to rid himself of the unidentifiable goop before opening it. The inside was a tad more pristine, not slimy enough to ruin the contents at least. Within it was a bottle of ice cold water, something he dearly needed at the moment.

With the amount of time he took just standing there, he was a bit concerned for his safety, but he was relieved when he saw marines begin to lead those who had been injured or misplaced back into safety, implying their victory. With that weight off his shoulders he grabbed the bottle and tossed the box, quickly unscrewing it before pouring it down his gullet. Something in the back of his mind told him that the water might not be safe considering the quality of the chest itself, but he also felt that- in the condition he was - even the world's deadliest poison could rejuvenate him. With each sip he felt himself returning to decent condition, nerves wise at least.

Bruce figured the best course of action was to recoup with the marines and the displaced. He discarded the kitchen knife as he followed the direction he saw the marines go, ambling awkwardly over to a group of about 15 people as the last person to arrive. As he reached his destination a familiar young marine approached him, looking justifiably shaken up over the whole thing.

"Hey you were-" Bruce began, wanting to offer his thanks as this turned out to be the man who saved him.

"Yeah yeah.. Just doing my job." He said, looking somewhat dejected about the whole situation. "Glad you helped out though."

"Yeah yeah.. Just doing my- So, who exactly were those guys?" Bruce asked.

"The crew didn't have any sort of moniker, they just.. appeared? Ever since Roger's death all these sickos wanna do is spread violence." This made Bruce curious, was Roger's death recent? Was he sent to this world before Luffy ever departed from whatsthatvillage?

"Horrid." Bruce blankly expressed.

"With that said, we need people who are willing to defend the innocent." He said, leading smoothly into his next point of discussion. "What do you think about becoming a marine?"

Bruce felt like the conversation was gonna lead to this point, but now that the question was brought up he started to consider. He put some real merit into this question, if he was in the marines he could knock off two of his high priority needs with ease, with food and shelter being taken care of for him. On the flip side, he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to keep fighting after what he had just experienced.

"Maybe." Bruce said, buying himself another awkward pause's worth of time to consider this in full. He had joined the US Military once before so he reminisced on that experience, seeing what exactly led him there. It wasn't the college benefits or a grand sense of patriotism, though the former certainly aided his decision. Bruce searched deeper within his mind to find the real reason he joined, once he found it, he compared the situations in his mind and found them quite similar:
It was a lack of structure, he had bad sleeping habits, bad eating habits and no aspirations. His time in the military did manage to kick him into gear, but now he was back at square one, lost in a land he is barely acquainted with with zero friends to rely on, aspirations or otherwise. With this said, the answer was clear as day in Bruce's mind. No matter how tough it may be, no matter what comes ahead, if it can give him a purpose in this world he found no reason to decline.

"What's your name?" Bruce asked.

"Elias Webb." He smiled, hoping for the best.

Bruce extended his hand to Elias and the man extended his in return, clutching each other firmly.

"Well Elias, I'm in."

VaVbW6fT