Not Rod

Not Rod

"This is the Old Gun Tavern, right?"

Rod pushed open the tavern door and walked in, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He stepped back out to carefully check the sign hanging outside, then walked in again with a suspicious look.

"I thought I'd walked into a library. Why is a tavern so quiet?"

Setting aside his doubts, Rod walked up to the bar.

"Boss, two glasses of your best beer!"

"Please wait a moment."

As Rod spoke with the owner, various sounds gradually began to rise within the tavern, as though it were slowly returning to normal.

Yet everyone's gaze drifted toward the corner now and then. Even their drinking had become far more refined, and they spoke with a measure of restraint.

Victor's group, the recently notorious [Black Bear] gang, had just become dead bears. No one wanted to get their head blown off with a single shot for disturbing that red-haired handsome youth.

"Put it all on my tab later!"

Taking the beer handed over by the owner, Rod casually waved a hand and headed straight for the corner.

In that corner, with the red-haired handsome youth at its center, an entire ring of tables stood empty. Even though several groups had squeezed together in the packed tavern hall, no one dared sit at those vacant tables.

As Rod drew closer, the sounds in the tavern gradually died down. Nearly everyone followed him with their eyes. Before long, it seemed as though Rod's footsteps were the only sound left in the tavern, each step landing squarely on their hearts.

When Rod reached the red-haired handsome youth, pulled out a chair, and sat down as if nothing were amiss, everyone's hearts leaped into their throats.

Thud!

It was the sound of a beer glass being set on the table—and the sound of everyone's hearts pounding wildly.

As the red-haired handsome youth slightly raised his eyes, the people in the tavern felt as if an invisible hand had clamped over their mouths. They could barely even breathe.

"Long time no see, Nerl!"

Rod pushed a glass of beer toward the red-haired young man—Nerl—and a hint of joy appeared on his face.

"Yeah!"

Nerl closed the book in his hand and set it aside. Picking up the beer Rod had given him, the two lightly clinked their glasses.

So they knew each other!

And since they were drinking, he wouldn't be reading anymore, right?

Everyone in the tavern let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. The atmosphere gradually recovered, and before long, the place was lively once more.

"Looks like you're ready."

"It was only seasickness. I've spent almost every day of the last few months drifting at sea. I've completely overcome it!"

"Once we return to Flying Swallow Island and meet up with them, it'll be time to raise our flag over the seas."

Rod drained his beer in one gulp, brimming with ambition.

Not Rod was a transmigrator and an orphan. This year, he was nineteen years old. He had grown up alongside Nerl, his younger brother and fellow orphan, though neither of them knew whether they were actually related by blood.

This was an extremely dangerous world, where pirates ran rampant and massacres of entire villages and families were commonplace.

The original owner of this body had most likely been a victim of the Great Pirate Era. After transmigrating here, Rod had inherited none of his predecessor's memories. He had only naturally gained some basic language skills. The only things he remembered were his own name—Not Rod, which had not changed much from his previous life—and the name of another child he had held in his arms—Nerl.

Still, he had only been three or four years old at the time. There probably had not been much in his head to begin with, perhaps not even as much useful information as Rod had known in his previous life.

In his previous life, Rod could only be considered a casual One Piece fan. Everything he knew after the Pirate King's Summit War came from short videos, but that did nothing to lessen his understanding of just how dangerous this world was.

This was a world where the strong could destroy a nation alone. Those monsters standing at the pinnacle of the seas each possessed the power to easily annihilate a country, and could even permanently alter the natural environment through their own strength.

Fortunately, he had arrived with two cheat abilities. One was [Knights Do Not Die Empty-Handed], which allowed him to completely control any weapon he held and master the skills needed to use it. The other was [What Does Not Kill Me Makes Me Stronger], which he preferred to call [Sit-ups]. Whether he pushed his physical strength to its limit or was injured to the brink of death, once he recovered, his body would become even stronger.

Relying on these two cheat abilities, he had led Nerl through the difficult early days after his transmigration.

Over the past dozen years or so, Rod had also witnessed the chaos and darkness of this world. Even behind towns that appeared prosperous and peaceful, deep darkness lay buried.

Pirates could descend without warning and plunder the wealth the people had worked so hard to accumulate. Wealthy, heartless clans and those in power quietly amassed enormous fortunes, enjoying luxurious lives while ordinary people struggled beneath the crushing burden of survival. Marines who robbed and extorted in the name of justice were even more commonplace.

Not to mention those at the top of the food chain—the so-called [Descendants of God], the Celestial Dragons! They enjoyed the offerings of the entire world, possessed every privilege, and plundered the world's wealth.

This was a world where people devoured people. Rod did not want to be the one being devoured, nor did he believe anyone was born noble and naturally entitled to every privilege.

He believed only one thing: are kings and generals born to their stations?

Still, he had no intention of changing the world, much less dedicating his hard-won second life to the grand cause of liberating the entire world. He only wanted to enjoy his life in this fantastical world.

In a world where power belonged to the individual and the strong could shatter heaven and earth, he believed only that fists were power!

He would turn this world upside down, smash every rule and restraint binding him, and become the man with the biggest fist!

Unfortunately, after sailing fifty meters from shore, he discovered that his stomach had been turned upside down—because he got seasick...

He had been able to swim across islands years ago, yet he had somehow gotten seasick.

However, after drifting alone across the sea for several months, Rod had completely overcome that problem.

"The next ship bound for Flying Swallow Island leaves in three days."

Nerl took a sip of the wine in his cup, then pulled out a notebook from beside him and handed it to Rod.

"These are some people I've compiled who are worth paying attention to. There might be something among them that interests you."

Rod took the notebook from Nerl and opened it. Neat lines of handwriting filled the pages, with pictures thoughtfully attached beneath some of the entries.

"This person has already set sail..."

Rod's hand paused slightly as he flipped through the notebook, silently muttering to himself.

"Tyrant, Bartholomew Kuma!"

"It seems I can already hear the tides of the era..."

After calming the turbulent emotions in his heart, Rod continued reading through the intelligence Nerl had compiled.

"Huh—this person..."

Rod paused slightly. Seeing this, Nerl glanced at the information Rod was looking at.

"She seems to have been active around here recently as well."

The tavern doors were pushed open once more, and a tall woman with a high purple ponytail walked in. Her orange skin-tight sportswear outlined her alluring curves, while her wheat-colored skin gave her a healthy, athletic beauty. Her yellow slit pupils added a touch of wildness to her appearance.

"Catwoman Nia!"