Prologue: Aaron Who Ate a Man

The salty sea breeze drifted by, scattering the white clouds overhead and stirring the boy's appetite.

Aaron had not eaten for three days.

Based on memories of unknown origin, Aaron knew that if he did not eat soon, he would be reuniting with the parents who had only just gone to heaven.

This was a deserted island—no, it did not even qualify as an island. At most, it was a somewhat larger reef.

The reef was bare, so barren that not even grass would deign to take root here. Yet somehow, unlucky Aaron had ended up here.

"Ugh, if nothing bites soon, I'm really going to starve to death." Aaron sighed softly as he watched his homemade fishhook sink into the sea.

He had originally followed his parents to the East Blue to visit relatives, but not long after leaving Loguetown, they had encountered an unprecedented storm.

Everyone aboard the cruise ship had died. Fortunately, he had survived.

Though he was not far from death himself. Aaron mocked himself inwardly.

Aaron crouched on the reef and lowered his head to look at his current state. His fair face, that of an eleven- or twelve-year-old, was unnaturally pale and utterly haggard. In just three days, his golden hair had become dry and dull, while his clothes were tattered beyond recognition.

I look terrible, Aaron thought.

But doesn't it have a sort of melancholic charm? he thought again.

...Fine, Aaron had always been optimistic since childhood—so optimistic that he was practically brainless.

But thanks to that, he could swiftly forget the grief of losing both parents and throw himself into the grand question of how to survive.

Aaron lay on his side and curled up like an infant, reducing the area exposed to the sun as much as possible. Without water to replenish himself, all he could do was slow the loss of moisture.

Aaron closed his eyes and tightly gripped the fishing line in his hand. He had made it by tearing his clothes into strips and knotting them together, while the hook was fashioned from a safety pin. But there was no bait, so whether Aaron lived or died depended on whether heaven granted him a chance.

He quickly fell asleep.

Thump! Thump! Thud-thud-thump!

That was the sound of the cotton thread suddenly tightening. Perhaps he was starving too badly, but Aaron, who had once lived a pampered life, heard the nearly imperceptible sound in an instant.

His eyes snapped open. He sat up abruptly, gripped the fishing line with both hands, squeezed the last traces of strength from his weak body, and pulled hard.

Splash!

The hook came up!

It was much lighter than he had expected. Aaron thought, but his attention was immediately drawn to what he had caught.

A square yellow sponge, about the size of a palm. In Aaron's eyes, it looked like a chunk of butter. Of course, most people would probably have taken it for a rag. It was firmly hooked onto the safety pin.

Food!

Aaron stared at the sponge, and a fierce green light flashed in his eyes.

Without even thinking, controlled by his hunger, Aaron reached out and grabbed the sponge. His mouth opened on its own.

Gulp!

Without chewing, he swallowed it whole.

He vaguely seemed to hear something screaming. That restored a trace of clarity to Aaron, and his brain began to work. The first question that came to mind was: Can this thing be eaten?

Then sudden, excruciating pain struck him, making him writhe like a shrimp being roasted. It woke him completely, and Aaron thought, Well, looks like it really can't be eaten.

Then he fell unconscious.