Chapter 1
Woop Slap sat under the shade of the old banyan tree near his office, savoring the small pleasures of a quiet afternoon. His wiry frame, now slightly hunched with age, leaned against his unusually heavy cane—a gift from Garp, though why the blasted man had chosen something so unwieldy was beyond him. His face, lined with decades of worry and exasperation, was shadowed by a striped hat that barely kept the sun from his eyes. The village was at peace, for now, and that meant his work was done for the day.
Or so he thought.
He plucked a small, shriveled raisin from a pouch Makino had left earlier, popped it into his mouth, and immediately regretted the decision. The thing was as dry as his patience and twice as stubborn. His throat, betraying him in his hour of need, refused to swallow, and a violent coughing fit overtook him.
Woop Slap clutched at his chest, the cane slipping from his hand as he wheezed and sputtered. His vision blurred, though whether from lack of air or sheer irritation, he couldn't tell. The raisin lodged itself firmly in his throat, an insolent little devil determined to end his reign as mayor of Foosha Village.
"Mayor!" Makino's voice rang out as she rushed over from the tavern, her apron flapping behind her like a banner of concern. Before Woop Slap could wave her off, she slipped her arms around his midsection and gave him a sudden, sharp upward squeeze. His wiry frame jolted, the movement jarring enough to dislodge the raisin—but not enough to remove it entirely.
"I'm—urk—fine!" he managed, though his pale complexion and bulging eyes suggested otherwise.
Makino tried again, her grip firmer this time. The raisin shifted, scraping painfully down his throat, but refused to give him the satisfaction of a clean escape. With a final swallow, more defiant than relieved, Woop Slap forced it down. He straightened, brushing off Makino's hands with the gruff dignity of a man who refused to die choking on a raisin.
"Too old for this nonsense," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Maybe it's fate. Guess I'm not allowed to die just yet. Someone has to stick around and guide this rotten generation, and clearly, I've been chosen."
"Mayor, are you sure you're okay?" Makino asked, her brow furrowed with worry.
Woop Slap waved her off. "I'm fine, girl. I've survived bandits, storms, and Garp's lunacy. A raisin isn't going to be my undoing."
He meant to say more, but his attention was suddenly captured by something impossible. Floating just above Makino's head were glowing words, shimmering in the air like some drunken sailor's hallucination.
YAY! CONGRATULATIONS, OLD MAN!
You awakened the Wise Elder System!
Your job is to correct the decadent youth of the world!
"Huh," Woop Slap grunted. His eyes narrowed as the words shifted, presenting what looked like a profile screen.
Woop Slap
Mayor of Foosha Village
Level: 9
Fate : F
Generat Attributes
Strength: 0.5
Constitution: 0.75
Dexterity: 0.25
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 19
Charisma: 5
Special Attributes:
Correction Points: 0
Lessons Imparted: 0
"What the…" Woop Slap stopped himself just short of swearing. The stats painted a picture that was both insulting and bizarre. Frail? Decadent? He was the mayor of this blasted village! Did you know how much endurance it took, huh? To keep all this imbeciles in line? Blasted system!
"Mayor?" Makino's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to reality. "Do you need to sit down?"
"No," he muttered, straightening his hat. "I need to get back to work. No time to waste on… whatever this is." He gripped his cane and shuffled away, muttering under his breath about how the youth these days couldn't be trusted to eat their vegetables, let alone run a village.
The sun was a cruel tyrant over the dirt roads of Foosha Village, baking the ground until it seemed ready to crack, but Woop Slap—stubborn as a barnacle on a ship's hull—was determined to march straight through it. His cane struck the earth with sharp, deliberate thuds, each one like a punctuation mark to the symphony of grumbling spilling from his mouth. His hat, barely clinging to his head, drooped in shared misery, though Woop Slap would've told it off for being so dramatic if he weren't already occupied being irritated at the world.
He hadn't gone far before he spotted trouble. Under the wide, lazy fronds of a palm tree sat one of the village's fine specimens of wasted youth. The boy was sprawled out like yesterday's laundry, a stalk of grass hanging from his mouth, eyes fixed on the sky like it held the answers to life's mysteries—or maybe just the next cloud that looked like a fish.
Woop Slap's steps slowed. His grip tightened on his cane. The boy didn't even bother to sit up as the old man approached, which was mistake number one. Mistake number two? Still breathing while wasting valuable air.
"Oi, you!" Woop Slap barked, coming to a halt and glaring down at the boy with all the menace of an incoming storm.
The boy shifted, not enough to count as actual effort, but enough to signal he'd noticed the looming shadow. "What do you want, Mayor?" he drawled, his tone as lazy as the rest of him.
"What do I want?" Woop Slap's cane tapped against the dirt with a dangerous rhythm. "I'll tell you what I don't want—freeloaders turning my village into a sanctuary for professional loafers! Why are you lying here like a sack of moldy potatoes while the rest of us keep this place running?"
The boy blinked, clearly unused to being accosted during his afternoon of sloth. "I… uh… I was just taking a break. It's been a long morning."
"A long morning?" Woop Slap's voice pitched higher, incredulity dripping from every syllable. "A long morning? Back in my day, we didn't know what a 'long morning' was because we were too busy surviving them! Plowing fields, hauling water, fixing fences—and you, you're out here perfecting the art of sitting!"
"I've been busy!" the boy tried, a faint whine creeping into his voice.
"Busy? BUSY?" Woop Slap jabbed his cane in the air like a conductor conducting a symphony of scorn. "The only thing you've been busy with is wearing out that patch of dirt! Do you think it's going to sweep itself? Or is the wind supposed to carry the dirt away out of sheer pity?"
The boy scrambled to his feet as though Woop Slap's words had physical weight. His face turned red, and his hands brushed the dust from his clothes with panicked efficiency. "I—I'm sorry, sir! You're right. I'll get to work right away!"
The boy darted off, grabbing a broom from nowhere like his life depended on it. Woop Slap huffed, adjusting his hat and preparing to mutter something about the failings of modern parenting when a strange shimmer appeared in his vision.
Correction Points Earned: +5.
Lessons Imparted: +1.
Level up!
Lvl 9 → Lvl 10
Woop Slap froze. He squinted at the words as if daring them to repeat themselves. "What in the blazes is this now?" He reached up to tap the side of his head, half-expecting to feel a dent where his sanity had finally given up and jumped ship. "Am I hallucinating, or is this some kind of divine prank?"
The words faded, leaving Woop Slap staring at the boy, who was now energetically sweeping the road. Slowly, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "So, it's not just about shouting at fools, eh? It's about whether they actually learn something. Hmph. Maybe this thing isn't entirely useless."
As he adjusted his hat, more shimmering text appeared in front of him.
You leveled up!
New Skills Unlocked!
Get Off My Lawn:
A wide-area stun attack with a shouting debuff.
Elder Wisdom:
Grants temporary buffs to allies when imparting life lessons.
Woop Slap snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. "Wide-area stun? What do they think I've been doing all these years? Talking to the daisies?"
More text scrolled into view.
Perk:
Cranky Old Man Aura
Intimidates anyone under 30 within a 5-meter radius.
Flaw:
Back in My Day
Compulsive ranting with a tendency for unintended tangents.
"As if I needed a system to tell me I'm intimidating," he muttered, though his pride swelled a little. "And compulsive ranting? Bah. That's called discipline, you floating bucket of nonsense."
The sound of a familiar voice derailed his thoughts. "MEAT! I NEED MEAT!"
His cane clicked sharply against the dirt as he wheeled around, his scowl settling into place like an old friend. Sure enough, there was Monkey D. Luffy, that grinning idiot, hopping in front of the butcher's stall like a flea on a hotplate. He looked exactly as he always did—barefoot, straw hat askew, and entirely too full of himself for someone without a single coin to his name.
"Tch. The fool who wants to be a pirate," Woop Slap muttered under his breath. His cane struck the ground harder as he approached, though he barely noticed. He was too busy wrestling with the gnawing feeling in his chest that he refused to acknowledge as worry.
What if Luffy got hurt? The thought flared up unbidden, and Woop Slap shoved it down just as quickly. No, no. He was mad. That's all this was. Mad that this boy had no sense of responsibility, no plan, and no understanding of how cruel the sea could be. Yes, anger—much better than worry.
Before he could start yelling, another floating label popped into his vision.
Monkey D. Luffy
Level: 27
Fate: SSS
Woop Slap's eye twitched. "Unjust," he hissed under his breath. Ninety years of life. Ninety! Countless battles with bandits, bureaucrats, and that blasted goat that once tried to eat his hat, and he was only Level 9 — 10, now? Meanwhile, this snot-nosed brat was Level 27? And "Fate: SSS"? What did that even mean? He had half a mind to shout at the system itself.
"Yo, old man!" Luffy's voice broke through his spiraling indignation.
Woop Slap looked up to see Luffy bounding toward him, all energy and obliviousness. His grin was so wide it might split his face in half. "What do you want now, Monkey?" Woop Slap snapped, his cane striking the dirt with a satisfying thwack.
"I'm leaving in a week!" Luffy declared, standing as if he'd just announced he'd won the lottery.
Woop Slap froze. His heart—stupid thing—lurched in his chest. A week? It wasn't that he hadn't known this day was coming, but still… a week.
"A week?" he growled, his tone sharp enough to cut steel. "You mean to tell me you're going to throw your life away on some ridiculous dream of becoming a pirate in a week?"
"Yup!" Luffy said, grinning as if that answered everything.
"Oh, you idiot!" Woop Slap exploded. He launched into a tirade, his cane stabbing the ground like an exclamation mark with every sentence. "Do you have any idea what's out there? Sea Kings the size of mountains, Marines who'll hang you for looking at them funny, and pirates worse than anything your tiny brain can imagine! And here you are, grinning like a fool, thinking it's all going to be fun and games. This is what's wrong with the youth today—no sense of responsibility, no willingness to work for an honest living. No! All you want to do is run off, wave a flag, and call yourself a pirate!"
Luffy didn't respond.
"Are you even listening to me?" Woop Slap demanded, his voice climbing an octave.
A faint snore answered him.
Luffy had fallen asleep. Right there. Standing up.
Woop Slap's grip on his cane tightened. His eye twitched again. "You… little…" He raised the cane, the polished wood gleaming in the sunlight, and brought it down on Luffy's head with a resounding thunk.
"Ow! Old man!" Luffy yelped, clutching his head.
"Don't you 'old man' me!" Woop Slap barked, whacking him again. "You're going to listen if it's the last thing you do! I've seen more discipline in a headless chicken than I've ever seen in you! You're not ready for the sea, you're not ready for responsibility, and you're sure as hell not ready to call yourself a pirate!"
Each sentence punctuated by another swing of the cane. Each swing met with a yelp from Luffy. "What's in this thing?" Luffy groaned, staggering back. "Rocks?!"
"Garp gave it to me," Woop Slap said smugly. "Said it was good for dealing with fools. Looks like he was right." He swung again, the cane making a satisfying thwack against Luffy's shoulder.
Strangely, Luffy seemed genuinely hurt—more than he had any right to be for someone who could punch through walls. He staggered, holding up his hands. "Okay, okay! I give! Stop hitting me, old man!"
The system chimed.
Correction Points Earned: +5.
Lessons Imparted: +0.
The Decadent Youth did not listen to your lesson and is going to stay an imbecile.
"Oh, wonderful," Woop Slap muttered, rolling his eyes. "Not even the system thinks you're salvageable."
The cane struck Luffy one final time, and he yelped, hopping backward and clutching his head like a man who'd just been whacked with a frying pan. Which, to be fair, wasn't far off. Woop Slap's cane was no ordinary walking stick—it was an heirloom of discipline, handpicked by Garp himself for the express purpose of "correcting young idiots."
"Old man, what's your problem?!" Luffy whined, rubbing the sore spot. "That hurt!"
"That's the point, you little menace!" Woop Slap barked, his cane thudding into the dirt for emphasis. "Maybe if you paid attention for once in your life, I wouldn't have to beat sense into you! Honestly, you've got the focus of a drunken seagull."
Luffy stuck out his tongue and crossed his arms. "I'm going to be Pirate King! I don't need focus!"
Woop Slap's eye twitched. His grip on the cane tightened. The sheer stupidity of that sentence hit him like a Sea King's tail. "You… don't… need focus? You're going to sail the world, fight who knows how many lunatics, and you think you can just wing it? Oh, this is rich. Pirate King? You'll be Pirate Fish Food in a week!"
Before Luffy could muster another half-baked rebuttal, a glowing message popped into Woop Slap's vision.
[Legendary Feat]
Wow! You managed to cow into submission the avatar of an [Unawakened God].
+ 15 000 Correction Point
Level 10 → Level 68.
Woop Slap blinked. "Level 59?!" he muttered, his cane hovering mid-thud. "You're telling me beating some sense into this rubber-headed fool was worth fifty levels? Bah! The world really has gone soft."
"What are you mumbling about, old man?" Luffy asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.
"None of your business, Monkey!" Woop Slap snapped, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Now go do something useful for once, like chopping firewood or apologizing to the butcher."
Luffy pouted but shuffled off, muttering about how he was going to be the greatest pirate ever and didn't need to listen to stupid old people. Woop Slap watched him go, shaking his head. "Pirate King, my foot. More like King of Fools."
But the system wasn't done with him yet. Another message popped up, practically shining in its smugness.
Ping!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 25!
You unlocked the [Naughty Youth Detector]
This powerful tool reveals the location and status of misbehaving youth who require guidance (or a swift whack with a cane).
Time-sensitive missions included.
A window materialized in front of Woop Slap, and his jaw nearly dropped. It was a map—a ridiculously detailed map of the entire East Blue, complete with every island, bay, and tavern in sight. Floating names dotted the landscape like little flags: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Helmeppo, Koby…and many other names.
"Well, isn't this just a nosy old man's dream," he muttered, adjusting his hat. His cane hovered over the name Koby, and with a quick poke, the screen zoomed in like magic. Woop Slap squinted as Koby's profile appeared, complete with an unflattering headshot.
Koby
Status: Unwilling Pirate Cabin Boy ,
Current Location: Alvida's ship
Summary: This youth shows promise but is plagued by cowardice, lack of self-esteem, and an unfortunate haircut. Desperately in need of a mentor to slap some sense into him before he ends up as cannon fodder.
Time Limit: 8 days.
Woop Slap snorted, his mustache twitching with amusement. "Cowardice and a bad haircut, huh? Sounds like he's two steps away from being the village laughingstock. Lucky for him, I'm in the business of fixing disasters."
He closed the window with a grunt, just as another notification popped up.
Ping!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 50!
You've mastered the Groan-shiki (Art of the Six Grumbles), a legendary art feared by youth and respected by your local pharmacist. Go forth and make the next generation regret their existence!
"Oh, for the love of…" Woop Slap growled, but his curiosity got the better of him. The message expanded, revealing the details of his newfound power.
Cane-mi-e (Cane Art):
Dodge attacks with the grace of an old man reaching for his cane. You'll look slow, but your enemies will miss by a mile.
Ten-Cans (Iron Cans):
Harden your body to withstand blows, much like a pantry full of canned goods—sturdy, reliable, and slightly dented.
Kneeppo (Knee Pop):
Launch yourself into the air using pure old-man grit. The knees might pop, but you'll still land with style.
Rant-kyaku (Tempest Rant):
Send razor-sharp waves of verbal disappointment at your enemies. Bonus damage if they visibly cringe.
Shakugan (Shaky Gun):
Jab your finger with deadly precision, backed by decades of accumulated grumpiness. No one escapes the poke.
Snoru (Snore):
Confuse enemies by instantly falling asleep mid-battle. Your snoring is both tactical and oddly unsettling.