AN: Wanted to let everyone know ahead of time. MC will seem OP, but this is an AU. He will be strong, but he wont bulldoze over everyone. He will have PLENTY of challanges. He is also not a Hero… like every other pirate in One Piece, he is selfish and ready to do anything to get his way. I hope you all enjoy.
Chapter 1: Forged by Fire
The sun beat down relentlessly on the island, its heat searing the dry earth at the edge of the jungle. A young boy stood alone on the beach, sweat pouring down his face as he lifted a jagged rock above his head. His body trembled under the weight, his muscles burning with every second, but his eyes remained sharp, focused. Determined.
Draven, no older than ten, let out a low growl as he hoisted the rock higher. His once small, frail arms had grown stronger over the relentless months of training, each day pushing him further. The pain that wracked his body was no longer an enemy; it was an old companion. It fueled him. Every drop of sweat, every aching muscle was not just suffering—it was progress. A step closer to his goal.
He hadn't asked for this second life. Least of all as a child, trapped in a body too weak to contain the ambition burning inside him. But here he was. And he would make it his.
Back in his old life, in the cold, calculating world of business, he had ruled his company with an iron fist, dominating that realm through cunning and control. There, power came from money and manipulation. But here, in the lawless seas of One Piece, it was all about strength. The strongest ruled, and the weak were made to follow the rules of the strong, used and abused as the powerful saw fit.
Draven refused to be weak.
As a child in this world, he had quickly realized that he had been given a second chance, a chance to rise to heights unimaginable in his previous life. But while others might seek adventure and freedom, Draven sought something far more personal: power. He had tasted control before, in his previous life as a corporate giant, but here, the only way to exert true dominance was through physical strength. To rule over the seas with an unbreakable grip. To bend this world to his will.
But before he could do that, he needed a body worthy of his ambitions.
With a snarl, Draven threw the rock aside, breathing heavily. His body was drenched in sweat, his arms shaking from the strain, but there was a fire in his eyes. He had pushed his limits every day, training relentlessly, isolating himself on this small island. He had no mentor, no guide, just the knowledge that there was no ceiling to the strength one's body could achieve in this world. That understanding fueled his drive—if he didn't push himself harder than anyone else, he would forever remain under the whims of the powerful.
This body, he thought, clenching his fists, feeling the blood pounding in his veins. It can go further. It can become more than I ever imagined in my old life.
He looked down at his hands, calloused and bruised from months of harsh training. The strength he'd already gained was incredible—far beyond what a child his age should have. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.
Draven turned his gaze towards the forest that loomed behind the beach. His next challenge. The creatures that roamed there were wild, dangerous. But to him, they were nothing more than stepping stones. He would hunt them, defeat them, and push his body to the breaking point again and again.
Every day was a test, a lesson in survival. He had no devil fruit, no grand lineage, no mentor. What he had was raw, unrelenting willpower. The more he pushed himself, the more he began to understand the potential of this world—of his body. The people here had reached unimaginable heights. He could surpass them all.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and started running towards the forest, his legs pumping harder with each step. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain. Pain was nothing. Weakness was nothing. The only thing that mattered was getting stronger.
As he darted into the trees, he thought of the future. A future where he would no longer be a nameless child on a forgotten island, but a figure feared across the seas. Pirates, warlords, the Navy, and even the World Government—none of them would stand in his way.
But for now, he was still just a boy, pushing his body beyond its limits. Testing his endurance. Building his strength.
He could already feel it—the potential in his blood, the fire in his bones. He would forge himself into something more than human, more than a pirate. He would become a ruler, feared and unstoppable.
And it all began here, with every breath, every drop of sweat, each wound that closed in a matter of days, leaving his skin unmarked.
The days turned into months, and the months into years. Every morning began the same—Draven would wake before the sun rose, his body aching from the punishment he'd put it through the day before, yet his mind as sharp as ever. The training had become an obsession. It was no longer just about growing stronger; it was about mastering every aspect of his body and mind.
He had broken his bones countless times, torn muscles apart and pushed himself to the brink of death more often than he could count. But every time, he came back. Stronger. Tougher. Faster. The creatures of the island, once terrifying to his young eyes, had become mere exercises in his daily grind. Their bites and claws that once tore through his flesh now scraped uselessly against his skin, which had hardened like steel from constant exposure to battle.
It was on one of those days, two years into his training, that Draven found himself facing a new challenge.
He stood in the heart of the forest, surrounded by the dense canopy of trees. His shirtless body gleamed with sweat, muscles taut and scarred from countless battles. His eyes, however, held the same cold intensity they had the day he began. His senses had sharpened over the years, and now, he felt it. A presence.
A rumble shook the forest floor, followed by the sound of trees crashing to the ground. Something big was coming.
Draven's gaze narrowed as he turned to face the disturbance. The creature emerged from the treeline, its massive form casting a shadow over the clearing. It was a tiger—no, not just a tiger. This beast was unlike anything he had faced before. Its body was larger than any animal he had ever seen, its fur a mix of dark orange and black stripes that rippled with muscle beneath the surface. Its fangs were long, sharp, and gleamed in the dim light filtering through the trees.
Draven's heart pounded in his chest, but not out of fear. No, this was something else—anticipation. A thrill he hadn't felt in months. He had been waiting for a challenge like this.
The tiger let out a deafening roar, the sound vibrating through the air like a cannon blast. Birds scattered, and the trees seemed to shudder in its wake. Without hesitation, it charged, its massive paws shaking the earth as it closed the distance between them in seconds.
Draven stood his ground, his muscles coiled, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. As the tiger leapt at him, fangs bared, he dodged to the side with a speed that belied his size. His fist shot out, every muscle in his arm screaming in protest, but when it collided with the beast's ribs, the impact sent a shockwave up his arm. The blow would have shattered a lesser creature, but this beast? It barely flinched, its bones dense, its hide nearly impenetrable. Perfect, he thought, a savage grin tugging at his lips.
Finally, he thought. Something worth my time.
The battle raged on with a savage ferocity. Draven's body blurred with each movement, fists and feet crashing into the tiger's massive frame like sledgehammers, blows that would have shattered bones and pulped flesh on any lesser opponent. But the tiger was the king of this jungle—relentless, its claws slicing through the air like razors, aiming to tear flesh from bone. One claw raked across Draven's chest, shredding skin and muscle, leaving a trail of hot blood in its wake. But he barely flinched, his rage-fueled determination keeping him upright. The sound of bone and sinew clashing echoed through the clearing, each impact leaving the earth splattered with blood. It was stronger than anything he had faced, but Draven's will was just as unyielding, and he fought like a man possessed, his fists crashing into the tiger's skull and ribs with murderous intent.
Minutes turned into what felt like hours, both combatants bleeding and battered. The tiger's claws had slashed across his torso, leaving deep gashes, but Draven fought through the pain. His own strikes were weakening, however, his body nearing its limit. The relentless training had pushed him far, but now, he was faltering.
With a deafening roar, the tiger lunged once more, its gaping maw wide, jagged fangs ready to tear him apart. Draven braced to block, but his limbs were heavy, muscles screaming in exhaustion. He was too slow. The full weight of the tiger slammed into him like a freight train, driving him to the ground with bone-crushing force. The impact stole the breath from his lungs, and before he could react, the tiger's jaws snapped shut around his shoulder. Agonizing pain tore through him as the beast's fangs sank deep into flesh and bone, grinding with a sickening crunch. His bones creaked under the immense pressure, and blood poured from the wound in thick, hot rivulets, soaking the ground beneath them. The sound of his bones cracking filled his ears as the tiger thrashed its head, trying to rip his arm clean off.
For a moment, pain shot through his entire body, and he could feel the cold edges of death creeping in. His vision blurred. His limbs felt heavy. The world around him dimmed.
In the shadows of the dense forest, an unseen figure tensed, eyes locked on the battle unfolding before them. They had been watching for years now, observing the boy's ferocity. But now, with Draven pinned beneath the massive beast, blood pouring from his body, the figure hesitated, hand twitching toward the weapon at their side. Another second, and they would have stepped in, ready to pull the boy from the jaws of death.
But then…
No.
A voice echoed in his mind, distant at first but growing louder with each passing second. It wasn't fear that gripped him—it was rage. Rage at the idea that this… this beast could end him here. That after everything, after all the pain, all the blood, it would come to this?
No!
His blood boiled, his heart hammering in his chest. His body was broken, but his will… his will was stronger than ever.
I refuse to die here!
Then, without warning, an indescribable pressure surged from Draven's core. It was as if the world itself recoiled. The very air rippled and cracked, bending under the weight of his will. Trees shook, and the ground trembled. The tiger, once fearsome, froze mid-attack. Draven felt the power, ancient and primal, flood through his veins—like the raw force of a storm waiting to be unleashed.
The figure in the shadows, who had been moments away from intervening, froze mid-step. For a brief moment, their eyes widened in shock, caught off guard by the surge of energy that pulsed from Draven's battered form. The force hit them like a wave, heavy and undeniable. But after that split second of surprise, their lips curled into a small, knowing smirk. Of course. They had expected nothing less from him.
This boy wasn't ordinary. Not by any means. With a steady breath, the figure relaxed, stepping back into the shadows. There was no need to interfere now. Whatever this was, it was just the beginning.
Draven staggered to his feet, his eyes blazing with an intensity he had never felt before. His body was shattered, but his mind, his will, was more powerful than it had ever been. The world around him seemed to warp under the weight of the force he was unleashing. He didn't understand it fully, but it didn't matter.
He had unlocked something deep inside—a power that went beyond physical strength. A power that bent the wills of those around him.
Conqueror's Haki.
The tiger whimpered again, its once proud form now cowering before him, its body shaking uncontrollably. With a single look, Draven silenced it, his newfound power crushing the beast's spirit. It collapsed, unconscious, completely overwhelmed by his will.
Breathing heavily, Draven stood over the massive creature, blood dripping from his wounds, his muscles screaming in pain. But he was alive. He had survived.
And more than that… he had taken his first step toward true power.
A slow smile crept across his face. His body might have been broken, but his spirit? His spirit was unstoppable.
This world would bend to his will. Starting now.
Draven stood over the unconscious tiger, breathing heavily as the remnants of adrenaline still coursed through his veins. His body ached, every muscle protesting as the last waves of pain from the battle washed over him. But despite the pain, a fierce satisfaction burned in his chest. He had won. He had unlocked something deep within himself—a power that made the very air around him tremble. Conqueror's Haki.
His eyes drifted to the massive form of the tiger at his feet. Its once-fearsome body now lay still, unconscious from the overwhelming force of his will. Draven's lips curled into a slight smirk. This beast had nearly killed him, but now it was at his mercy—his victory trophy. And it would serve another purpose as well.
Without hesitation, Draven crouched beside the motionless tiger. Its body shuddered with shallow, ragged breaths, its chest rising and falling slowly. But even in its unconscious state, Draven knew he couldn't leave it alive. It deserved a warrior's end, just as he deserved the satisfaction of victory.
His fingers found their way to the beast's thick neck, feeling the muscles and tendons beneath its fur. With a savage twist, he wrenched the tiger's head to the side. The snap of its spine echoed through the silent jungle, the sound of finality.
The tiger's body jerked once, then fell still, its massive form completely limp beneath Draven's hands.
He stood slowly, every muscle in his body aching, but a fire of satisfaction burned deep within his chest. Without hesitation, he bent down and gripped the tiger by its hind legs. With a grunt of effort, he began to drag the enormous creature behind him, its weight pulling heavily against the earth.
The jungle was silent now, save for the sound of the tiger's lifeless body scraping across the ground, leaving a trail of disturbed dirt and broken branches in its wake. Each pull sent a fresh surge of pain through Draven's battered frame, but he ignored it, driven by a primal satisfaction that came with knowing he had triumphed over a creature that should have ended him.
The trek back to his makeshift camp was long, the weight of the tiger heavy on his shoulders, but Draven had grown used to enduring. The jungle around him was thick, the humid air clinging to his skin as vines and branches scratched against his bare flesh. He had long since stopped caring. Clothes had become a luxury he couldn't afford. Months of constant battles with the island's predators had shredded his last set of clothes beyond recognition. Now, he lived practically naked, his tattered shorts the only thing left to cover him.
His skin, once soft and pale, was now bronzed by the relentless sun, and his body had transformed into a vessel of pure muscle, forged by the harsh trials of the wild. Though his body was unmarked, it should have been covered in scars—reminders of countless battles. But his flesh, somehow, healed unnaturally fast, closing wounds within days and leaving no trace behind. He had become something primal, forged by the wilderness, yet beneath the surface, his mind remained sharp and cunning, just as it had in his past life.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he reached the small clearing that served as his camp. It was nothing more than a simple lean-to of large leaves and sticks, just enough to keep the rain off his head at night. A circle of stones surrounded a pit of ash where he built his fires. It wasn't much, but it had kept him alive for two years. And that was all that mattered.
Dropping the tiger's body with a thud, Draven wiped the sweat from his brow and set to work. His movements were automatic now, born from countless days of survival. He gathered sticks and kindling, piling them into the fire pit before striking the flint he carried on a leather cord around his neck. The spark caught, and soon a small fire crackled to life.
The tiger's massive body still lay sprawled in the clearing, and Draven eyed it with a mixture of pride and hunger. He had lived off the land for so long, surviving on whatever small creatures and fruits he could find. His cooking skills were... rudimentary, to say the least. He could barely make the jungle meat palatable, but it didn't matter anymore. Hunger was hunger, and survival was all that counted.
With one arm practically useless, hanging limp from the brutal bite of the tiger, Draven gritted his teeth and set to work with his good hand. Using a sharp stone, he began to skin the beast, his movements slower but still efficient. Each motion sent jolts of pain through his injured body, but he pushed through, driven by a savage satisfaction. The hide peeled away from the muscle, revealing the sinew and flesh beneath. As he worked, he couldn't help but marvel at the tiger's sheer toughness. Even now, after the battle, his body battered and broken, he felt a sense of pride knowing that he had withstood the fury of such a creature. He was stronger than any normal human should be.
Once the skin was removed, he cut chunks of the meat from the tiger's massive frame, skewering them on long sticks before placing them over the fire. The smell of roasting meat soon filled the air, thick and smoky, making his stomach rumble in anticipation.
As he watched the flames dance, Draven's mind wandered. It had been years since he had left the tiny orphanage in the village at the edge of this island. A miserable place, really. But it had given him shelter when he first awoke in this world—a world that had once only existed in fiction.
He remembered the day he had realized where he was. It had hit him like a storm. The pieces came together slowly at first—the strange people, the map of islands, the whispers of pirates. But once he knew, once he understood that this was the world of One Piece, his course was set. He had fled the village that very night, leaving the orphanage behind without a second thought. There was no need for the safety of others, no need for companionship.
Not when he had a world to conquer.
Now, here he was, two years later, half-naked, and battered but stronger than he had ever been. His body had become his greatest weapon, hardened by constant battle, and his mind remained as sharp and ruthless as it had always been.
The meat over the fire began to blacken slightly, but Draven didn't care. He pulled the sticks from the flames and tore into the charred flesh with his bare hands, the taste rough and bitter but filling nonetheless. He had eaten worse. Far worse. At this point, food was simply fuel for the machine his body had become.
As he chewed, his mind raced. The island had been a crucible for his training, but it was no longer enough. He had reached the limits of what this place could offer. He needed to move on. He needed to find a ship, a crew, and begin his true rise to power.
This world... he thought, staring into the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames. It's ripe for the taking. And I will take it all.
But first, he needed to survive. Survive and grow stronger.
The tiger meat was tough and nearly flavorless, but as he ripped another chunk free, Draven couldn't help but feel a fierce satisfaction. This beast, with all its strength and savagery, had been conquered by him. Its defeat was just another step in his path to power. Everything in this world would bow to him eventually—just like the tiger had.
Soon enough.
