A large ship sailed through the stormy seas of the East Blue, bearing the World Government's enigma. The ship was surrounded by a fleet of four ships belonging to one of the most dominant pirates in the East Blue.
While the storms in the East Blue Sea were child's play compared to those found in the ruthless Grand Line, they were strong nonetheless and provided perfect cover for pirates seeking to make a name for themselves.
A boy aboard the ship ignored the uproar in favor of crawling. "Come on, where is that key? It has to be here somewhere," he thought, rummaging around the dark cabin floor.
He brushed against the metallic object before fully grasping it in his hand. His hands trembled, and his breathing was uneven from anticipation; his freedom was within reach.
For the past three hellish years, all he has known was pain and torture at the hands of his master for his own twisted amusement.
He had his ribs broken multiple times by his master's hands over things as trivial as a missed footprint on the floor.
Almost drowned in dirty water for a smudge on the window.
Slept on the cold, hard floor.
Now, it was his chance to escape. Even if he were to drown in the sea, it would be far better than dying as a slave at the hands of the Celestial Dragon.
The boy quickly unlocked the collar around his neck. It hit the ground with a loud clang. He touched his neck for the first time in years, felt his pulse, his soft skin, and it felt so light without the collar.
He was free at last, he thought, as a chuckle escaped his lips.
His thoughts were interrupted by a cannonball tearing into the room and exploding, sending him flying into a wall and causing him to spit out blood. He cleared the smoke from his face, fanning it with his hand as he coughed up more blood.
The flame quickly turned into an inferno from all flammables found in the room. The searing heat forced him into a corner, only for the burning roof above him to collapse, falling on him, pinning him to the ground as it burned through his shirt before searing his back, burning away his mark. The boy gritted his teeth and endured something he had learned to do out of fear of angering his master. Grit your teeth and endure.
The fire finally reached the alcohol on the ship, resulting in a massive explosion that sent the boy flying off the ship.
The boy held onto a piece of plank for dear life as the rathfull waves washed him away from the conflict.
The boy's eyes shot open, and the sun had yet to rise, but despite the pain he was in, his body forced him awake. This was ingrained into him by his master after all, for every time he woke up late, he was doused in ice-cold water, whether he was sick, injured, or barely slept, he was to wake up before the sun every day.
He looked around, only to find nothing but sand and debris. He loudly exhaled, releasing a breath he had unknowingly held. Exhaustion overcame him, and he fell back onto the sand face-first.
A lone elderly man woke up early to scavenge whatever valuables were washed ashore after the storm. He expected to find ship debris and maybe a body. Soon, a figure caught his attention, and he rushed over to check it out. He definitely wasn't expecting to see the body of a boy.
The boy in question had olive skin and short white dreadlocks. He was wearing old clothing. The old man saw the boy's burned back move as if taking a deep breath. He sighed in relief before carrying the boy on his back and heading back to his house.
The boy opened his eyes to a foreign sight. He was no longer at the beach. He quickly sat up, scanning the room with his icy-blue eyes. A panicked expression painted his face as he instinctively reached for his neck. He sighed in relief; that cursed collar was gone. His eyes gazed at the door, and he sensed another person on the other side. He sensed no malicious intent from him.
He fell back onto the bed, only to wince in pain from his back. He removed his bandages and gave his back a look in the mirror. To his dismay, he found that most of his back was severely burned.
He looked at where his mark used to be, now replaced with a bigger and far more gruesome wound. He chuckled a little before breaking into hysterical laughter. He was free from the torture, free from the pain, free from the Celestial Dragons. He was free at last!
"Good to see you awake, boy." A voice came from behind the boy.
The boy turned around to see where that voice came from. He saw a short, elderly man with visible forehead wrinkles and large, slanted eyes. The man had notably bushy eyebrows and a large mustache, as well as slick white hair that he wore smoothed down, puffing out around the base of his head, with what would've been a fringe also swept back away from his face. He was also missing his right leg, with a wooden peg taking its place.
"How are you feeling?" the old man asked.
"G-good," the boy said, his voice cracking.
"Let's wrap that wound up before it gets infected," the old man said, sitting the boy down before bandaging him up.
"My name is Jigoro, by the way," the old man said.
"Hobart," the injured boy answered quietly.
"Well, Hobart, let's go have dinner."
The two sat in silence. Hobart was very hesitant about eating the food offered to him. "It may not be much, but you gotta eat for that wound to heal," Jigoro said, gesturing the boy to eat.
He ate a bit of the food, and it was good. The boy quickly stuffed his face with the stew; it had been so long since he had a home-cooked meal. For three years, he had been fed scraps, rotting food, or starved.
Tears ran down his cheeks. He had missed how good cooked meals tasted. He choked on his food, causing the old man to slap his back repeatedly in a panic. "Slow the hell down, brat!!" the old man yelled.
Hobart went into a fit of coughs before drawing a well-needed breath. "I... Thank you," Hobart said in between breaths.
"Sure thing," the man said as he dished another bowl to the boy. "This time, slow down; the food isn't going anywhere."
Hobart nodded, his face flushed red from embarrassment.
~To be continued~
This is a really short pilot chapter. I know; trust me, the coming chapters will be a bit longer.
Things to note: Hobart is going to eat a Devil Fruit. In the coming chapters, it is up to you all to decide which one it is.
•Option A (my favorite one): The Sara Sara no Mi, Model: Axolotl. The potential of the fruit was really wasted in the show. Besides the transformation granted by the fruit, axolotls are known for their regenerative healing ability, camouflage, and secret mucus to prevent drying up. All this can be used to make the fruit really powerful in the right hands. And being a Zoan, the more you train, the stronger you get. Lucci himself said that, so there's that statement to abuse.
Option B: Ratio Fruit inspired by Nanami's Ratio Curse Technique from Jujutsu Kaisen
•Option C: Kumo Kumo no Mi (Cloud Cloud Fruit), Logia... I don't think there is much to elaborate on here.
Moreover, the last name of Hobart is either:
1. Douglas Hobart(Hobie), son of Bullet.
2. Clou D. Hobart(Hobie), grandson of Clou D. Clover.
Or
3. Douglas D. Hobart(Hobie), son of Bullet and grandson of Clou D. Clover (or Rocks D. Xebec, but know that his name isn't going to play a major role in the story)