[I'm a zombie who ate the Zombie-Zombie Fruit, helping everyone preserve their brains.]
(The protagonist belongs strictly to the pirate camp, a Rocks-style pirate whose goal is not One Piece, but becoming the King of the World.)
(This book strictly adheres to the timeline and original character settings. For characters with little original depiction, a personal setting must be created. Theatrical version and game content will be included, but patches will be added during integration to make them fit reasonably with the main manga storyline.)
(The protagonist's Devil Fruit is the Mythical Zoan Earth God, with an appearance referenced from the Earth God worshipped by the Sky People in the original work.)
(The growth of the protagonist's companions occupies a certain amount of space. After all, Rocks took a group of legendary pirates to God Valley; the protagonist certainly cannot bring a few decelerators worth over 100 million berry, so they must at least be Shichibukai.)
Sea Circle Calendar Year 1497 (25 years before the original work)
(PS: The latest SBS announced the current timeline is Sea Circle Calendar Year 1541, but this book is already 500,000 words in, and the workload to modify the chapters is too large. I'll pay attention in the next book.)
West Blue, off the coast of Ohara.
Lead-colored clouds hung like ink, heavily pressing down against the sea surface, and the howling wind swept across the pitch-black water like a fierce beast, ploughing deep trenches churned with white foam.
A small sailing ship with creaking hulls struggled against this apocalyptic surge, forcefully breaking through the ink-colored seawater.
"Grandpa..."
Inside the narrow cabin, a three-meter-tall silver-haired teenager knelt on both knees, looking at the old man with tightly closed eyes before him, his aquamarine eyes filled with worry.
The old man was pulled back to a sliver of consciousness by the faint call. He laboriously lifted his heavy eyelids, his dry and peeling lips moving:
"Don't worry... Adams... I... am fine... Right now... what matters most... is figuring out the condition of your body... Those scholar friends of mine will definitely find a way."
Every single word he squeezed out took immense effort, and as he spoke, his aged body trembled like a flickering candle in the wind.
Adams did not reply. He only silently shifted his massive frame so that his grandfather's light, seemingly weightless hand could easily grasp his thick fingers.
Another giant hand clumsily and stubbornly pulled up the slipping thin blanket, attempting in vain to cover that trace of negligible warmth a bit tighter.
A tiny action completely exposed the confusion and dependency deep within his heart, resembling an injured young beast.
His grandmother had passed away early, and he had never met her. After his parents were turned to ash in that terrifying explosion that swallowed their laboratory and almost half a city block, his grandfather was his only family left in this world.
That hand of his grandfather holding his had once been so strong, able to steadily lift his body as they gazed up together at the vast starry sky of a summer night.
At this moment, it was trembling slightly in the invisible cold wind like the last withered leaf hanging on a dead branch in late autumn, ready to drift away and perish at any second.
Thinking of this, Adams could no longer hold it in, and two lines of hot tears streamed down. Seeing his grandson's appearance, the old man made no move, only letting out wave after wave of sighs.
Time was dragged out immensely long amid the sound of wind and waves, the boy's sobs, and the old man's sighs.
After an unknown amount of torment, a dull scraping sound finally came from the bottom of the ship. The hull lurked in a violent jolt, the signal of reaching the shore.
Adams hoisted his grandfather onto his back, slowly walked down the small boat, and stepped onto the land of Ohara.
On the coast, several figures had already been waiting in the swaying wind and rain.
The leader possessed clover-shaped hair and a beard, and was none other than Dr. Clover, a man renowned throughout the academic world.
As soon as he saw the dying figure on Adams's back, his composed face instantly shook violently, and deep shock and grief welled up fiercely within his sunken eye sockets.
"Old friend, how did you end up like this? Why don't I take a look at you first; perhaps some ancient text holds a way to extend your life."
As he spoke, he directed the scholars to carefully place the old man onto a stretcher.
The old man laboriously shook his head, the hand that Adams wasn't holding lifting softly before dropping weakly, signaling his refusal.
"Life and death... are up to fate... I've lived... long enough... Don't waste time... on a dying person like me... You should help this child first... You know... my whole family studies physics... and we haven't made many achievements in biology... I can only leave this to you."
Hearing these words from his old friend, an endless sourness and worry welled up in Clover's heart. He forced his voice to remain steady and spoke helplessly:
"Alright. Since you insist so much, I won't say anything more."
Immediately, he took a deep, damp, and cold breath, turning to Adams.
"Child, come with me."
Adams nodded silently, taking strides forward, heavily yet obediently following this group of scholars exuding a strong aura of books and ink, and left the precarious dock.
Their destination was the hall of knowledge of West Blue and even the entire world, the world's largest library, the Tree of Knowledge.
Stepping inside the Tree of Knowledge, even a giant existence different from ordinary people like Adams instinctively felt a sense of insignificance.
Beneath the dome lay a truly vast sea of books. Massive bookshelves were stacked in layers, and the air was thick with the unique, stale scent of paper accumulated over the years, mixed with dust and the heavy sigh of the passage of time.
Adams was led through a corridor of vast book scrolls resembling a labyrinth, his footsteps echoing hollowly in the silent space. He was brought into a relatively spacious and bright room with a huge oak table and several high windows.
Inside, several focused scholars wearing various types of glasses and proficient in the medical field were already waiting quietly, their eyes filled with curiosity as they repeatedly observed Adams's huge body.
The scholars here were beings who could abandon their lives for knowledge. They simply thought of exploring unknown fields without any personal utilitarian motives.
The time that followed was long and tedious.
Before these incarnations of human intelligence, Adams was like a huge clay puppet forced to be manipulated.
Scholars buried themselves in note pads, writing rapidly. Their brows either locked tightly or smoothed out, and medical jargon burst from their lips and teeth in low, rapid succession like the clashing sounds of cold scalpels:
"Bone density peak... off the charts!"
"Muscle fiber activity... abnormally active!"
"Basal metabolic rate... far exceeding ordinary people!"
When the sky outside the window was completely swallowed by dusk and bright lights were lit inside, an old scholar with thick, bottle-bottom-like lenses on the bridge of his nose closed the notebook in his hand, which was densely filled with notes.
He raised his face, his gaze like a searchlight sweeping over Dr. Clover's anxious face, and finally nailed itself to Adams's handsome yet bewildered and uneasy face.
"Doctor, we have repeatedly confirmed this. The child has no illness, no pathological infection, or genetic defects."
He paused, seeming to look for the most accurate phrasing, and the gaze behind his lenses became blazing:
"On the contrary, this is an extremely rare constitution. His bodily structure possesses an incredible potential—
capable of consuming energy within his body when enduring external pressure, triggering an adaptive evolutionary mechanism that makes his bones, muscles, internal organs, and even his entire body tougher.
This is... this is an extreme external manifestation of the potential of life evolution!"
The old scholar's tone grew increasingly excited, carrying the excitement of discovering a rare treasure:
We have reviewed all related ancient texts and sealed genetic evolution charts, and found that only in the distant Heavenly Calendar Era... were there vague, fragmentary records of this physique where the flesh rapidly evolves in desperate situations.
In addition, according to documented records...
People with this physique will complete their developmental stage at extreme speed, taking no more than eight years at the latest, after which their height sets. This is the reason for his abnormal height."
Pressure... evolution... an eight-year growth period..."
Dr. Clover muttered these keywords repeatedly.
He suddenly turned his head, casting his gaze toward the cold stretcher in the corner of the corridor.
On the stretcher, the old man's hand, covered in dark, dull spots, suddenly lifted away from the edge of the white cloth, trembling violently with a heartbreaking, deliverance-like ecstasy as he pointed at his grandson.
"So, he was just... growing fast... it's not an illness... that's good... not an illness... that's good..."
Turbid tears finally wound their way down from the corners of his sunken eyes, crawling over the deep wrinkles and dripping onto the cold fabric of the stretcher.
Immediately, the old man looked at his old friend and instructed:
"Old... pal... the ship I came on... has... the ancestral... physics... lone copy... and this child... together... I entrust them both to you."
Dr. Clover deeply closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his pupils held the steel-like, solemn promise of a single word, spoken decisively:
"Deal."
He had seen the old man's son—a well-brought-up, gentle, kind, helpful, and sensible young man. Believing that with a son like that, the grandson couldn't be a bad person, he agreed very readily.
The old man seemed to smile, that smile spreading like cracks across his gray, withered face.
Using the last shred of strength he could use to control his body, he rolled his eyes to look at his grandson, who wore a worried expression, his voice as gentle as if he were afraid of disturbing something:
"Adams... from now on... you must eat... well..."
Adams nodded heavily, a sob like that of an injured beast bursting out in the room:
"Wuuu, I... will, Grandpa."
The barely maintained smile on Grandpa's face finally solidified completely.
His slightly raised fingertips relaxed and gently slid back onto the white cloth. The final micro-glow of life was extinguished, like a blown-out candle flame, vanishing even with its smoke in an instant.
TO BE CONTINUED
(PS: After reading the first chapter, some people might question why the protagonist didn't show the reactions a transmigrator should have. The author explains here that it's because the protagonist only awakens his past-life memories in the third chapter.)
(The pacing in the early part of this book is slow, but the author will update frequently and massively. According to relativity, that means it isn't slow. In the latest plot, the protagonist has already finished his basic developmental period, so please read with peace of mind.)