Creating Characters in One Piece

Ray dragged the mop across the deck one last time, the wooden boards glinting under the afternoon sun. His arms burned from the effort, but he pushed through, his frustration with his latest failed creation fueling his work. Finally, he leaned the mop against the railing, wiping his hands on his worn-out uniform. 

He glanced around the deck, watching the other Marines busy with their duties. No one seemed to notice his lingering gloom, which suited him just fine. A chore boy like him wasn't meant to stand out. 

Letting out a weary sigh, he moved toward the edge of the deck, the salty breeze brushing against his face. The patrol boat sailed steadily toward their next destination, the distant island growing larger with each passing moment. 

Chōkoku Island. 

Ray squinted at the landmass ahead, his thoughts swirling. From what he'd overheard, the place specialized in sculptures—at least, that's what he guessed. His Japanese still wasn't great, even after a year of trying to learn it since being thrown into this world. He could get by with basic conversations, but when it came to deeper details, it all blurred together. 

He rested his elbows on the railing, rubbing his temples. His head throbbed, not from seasickness but from the frustration of losing yet another character. The sinking feeling in his chest hadn't eased up, even after mopping like his life depended on it. 

The sound of steady footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. Ray glanced over his shoulder and saw Dan approaching. 

Dan—better known as Scar to everyone else on the ship—was the closest thing Ray had to a friend here. The burly chore boy had a rugged, battle-worn look, his body marked by scars that told a dozen stories of survival. Something about wolves, Ray vaguely remembered. Or was it bears? Either way, Scar carried himself with a calm confidence that was hard not to admire. 

"Yo, Ray," Scar greeted casually, his gruff voice matching his appearance. 

Ray straightened up and managed a small smile. "Hey, Scar." 

The scarred man gave a lazy wave before leaning against the railing next to Ray, his presence as relaxed as ever despite the rough life he must've lived. The two stood in comfortable silence, the salty breeze carrying the faint sound of waves as the island loomed closer.

(Ray's POV)

I leaned against the railing, my mind spinning as I tried to piece together a strategy. How could I stop my creations from dying so quickly? Dave was supposed to be the breakthrough—a character with enough potential to actually climb the Marine ranks and bring me some returns. Instead, he'd met the same fate as the others. Gone before I could get anything back. 

I gritted my teeth. The system wasn't going to let me off easy. It needed money to function, and without money, I had nothing. No powers, no strength, no survival skills worth a damn in this world. I woke up in this place alone, dumped into some no-name town with only the system for company. No cheat abilities, no special talents—just a glorified character creator that sucked up my hard-earned cash like a bottomless pit. 

"Ray…" 

Dan's voice broke through my thoughts. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning on the railing next to me, looking uncharacteristically somber. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I don't know if you've heard already," he said carefully, "but… your cousin's dead." 

I froze for a moment but didn't respond. My mind wasn't even processing his words—it was still focused on figuring out how to get more money. Twenty thousand berries per character wasn't cheap, and I wasn't exactly rolling in cash. I wasn't like those overpowered protagonists who could crush bandits or raid treasure troves with ease. 

Dan must've taken my silence the wrong way because he shifted closer, his voice softening. "Ray, I know this is hard for you. Losing family is never easy." 

I didn't correct him. I couldn't even bring myself to explain that "Dave" wasn't my cousin but a creation I'd spent everything on. It wasn't like I could just blurt out, "Oh, by the way, Dave was actually an NPC I made using a weird system, and now I'm broke and miserable because he died before paying off his cost." Yeah, no. 

"Ray, listen," Dan said, his tone firmer now, like he was trying to pull me out of my nonexistent grief. "Your cousin Dave was strong. Before he died, he managed to kill a pirate with a 40 million bounty!" 

I blinked, surprised by that little nugget of information. 'Huh. So, Dave actually managed to do something useful before dying. Guess he wasn't a total waste.' 

Dan kept going, clearly mistaking my silence for devastation. "Now, it's sad he's gone, but if he'd had just a bit more training, he could've wiped the floor with that pirate! It's all that Marine captain's fault. If he hadn't been so hellbent on chasing that pirate to boost his rank, Dave would still be alive." 

He patted me on the shoulder, his voice thick with sympathy. "I know it hurts, Ray, but you gotta keep your head up. Dave wouldn't want you to wallow in this." 

I nodded absently, still not saying anything. I couldn't care less about the Marine captain or the pirate. What I cared about was the wasted 20,000 berries and the fact that I was now back at square one. Again. 

Dan mistook my silence as me being too overcome with emotion to speak. He sighed again, giving my shoulder a firm squeeze. "Take your time, man. I'm here if you need me." 

With that, he walked off, leaving me alone to stew in my thoughts. 'Forty million berries,' I thought, staring at the approaching island. 'If I could've gotten just a fraction of that bounty, I'd be set.' 

But the thought of actually earning money the hard way—fighting, risking my neck, going toe-to-toe with pirates or criminals—made my stomach churn. I wasn't strong, and this world wasn't kind to people like me. 

The patrol boat glided into Chōkoku Island's port without a hitch, the rhythmic creaking of the wooden hull mixing with the faint chatter of the locals on the docks. The salty scent of the ocean mingled with the earthy aroma of the island's rocky shores. Ray leaned against the railing, watching as the ship came to a gentle stop against the wooden pier. 

As soon as the boat touched the dock, the Marines onboard sprang into action. They scurried about, carrying out the orders barked earlier by Captain Vons. Crates were hauled off the boat, ropes were secured, and the ship's supplies were checked and double-checked. 

Ray glanced toward Captain Vons, who stood near the helm with his hands behind his back, his dark Marine coat fluttering lightly in the breeze. He was a middle-aged man with a sharp jawline, a trimmed mustache, and eyes that carried just enough authority to keep the crew in line. If Ray had to guess, Vons was about as strong as an average Marine captain in the East Blue—not an elite like the ones stationed in Marineford, but capable enough to keep pirates at bay. 

Ray liked that about him. 

Unlike Dave's captain, who had been an arrogant, glory-seeking fool, Vons wasn't the type to charge recklessly into danger. He was practical, preferring to keep things running smoothly rather than chasing after fame or promotions. For someone like Ray, who relied on quietly accumulating money to feed his system, this setup was ideal. No unnecessary risks, no suicidal missions—just steady work. 

'If only Dave had been assigned to someone like Vons,' Ray thought bitterly, gripping the railing tighter. Instead, his most promising creation had been wasted under the command of a greedy bastard. That captain's blind pursuit of glory had driven Dave into an unwinnable fight, costing Ray a character with real potential. 

He let out a quiet sigh, watching as the Marines on the dock continued their work. This wasn't the life he wanted, but for now, it was the best way to build up his funds without risking his own neck. And with Captain Vons in charge, he could focus on his goals without worrying about being dragged into a mess like Dave had been.

As I leaned against the railing, still stewing over my plans to scrape together enough money for the system, I caught sight of someone approaching me out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see a young boy, barely in his teens, jogging over with an eager grin plastered across his face. 

Oh, right. The new chore boy. 

Captain Vons had recruited him just last week, saying something about how I "couldn't handle all the tasks alone." Honestly, I think he just wanted to give me some breathing room—and someone to train. Lucky me. 

The boy came to a stop in front of me, clutching a piece of paper in his hand. He couldn't have been more than 13 years old, with a scruffy mop of brown hair and bright, hopeful eyes. The kind of look that said he still thought being in the Marines was some grand adventure instead of the backbreaking, thankless slog it actually was. 

"Uhm… Senior Ray!" he piped up, holding the paper out to me like it was a treasure map. "Captain Vons gave us some tasks to buy supplies we're short on! Here's the list!" 

I raised an eyebrow and took the paper from him. The kid practically vibrated with excitement, rocking on the balls of his feet as he waited for me to say something. He clearly expected me to take charge, probably because Captain Vons had told him I'd be training him. 

Great. Just what I needed—another responsibility. 

I glanced at the list, skimming through the items. It was mostly basic stuff: ropes, food provisions, and some spare tools for the ship. Nothing too complicated, but I could already feel the weight of the task. It wasn't the job itself that bothered me—it was the thought of dragging this overexcited kid around while trying to make sure I didn't mess anything up. 

I sighed inwardly, looking back at him. "Alright," I said, folding the list and tucking it into my pocket. "Stick close to me, and don't wander off. Got it?" 

"Yes, sir!" he chirped, practically saluting me. 

'This is going to be a long day,' I thought, stepping off the ship and into the bustling port of Chōkoku Island with my new shadow trailing close behind.

The port of Chōkoku Island was bustling with life. Stalls lined the docks, vendors shouting over one another as they advertised everything from fresh fish to hand-carved trinkets. The salty breeze carried the scent of grilled seafood and the faint tang of wood varnish, mixing with the chatter of sailors and locals alike. 

Walking through the lively crowd, I glanced over at the boy trailing behind me. He couldn't keep his eyes off the stalls, his head swiveling from side to side as if he were trying to take in everything all at once. 

"Kid," I called out, snapping him out of his trance. He looked up at me eagerly, still practically bouncing on his feet. "What's your name again? I wasn't around when the Captain recruited you." 

The boy beamed at the question, standing a little straighter. "OH! I'm Timmy Jr.! Tim for short!" he said with a proud salute. 

I couldn't help but smirk at his enthusiasm. "There's no need to salute me," I said, waving it off. "We're the same rank, haha. Anyway, did the Captain give you the money for the supplies?" 

Tim's eyes widened, and he gasped, smacking his forehead like he'd just remembered something important. "Oh yes! Sorry, I almost forgot!" He fumbled around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small pouch, holding it out to me with both hands. "Here, a total of 2,000 berries!" 

I took the pouch and gave it a quick shake, the coins jingling faintly inside. 2,000 berries wasn't much, but it was enough for the list Captain Vons had given us. Hopefully. 

"Alright," I said, pocketing the pouch. "Stick close to me, and try not to lose focus. The Captain's counting on us to get this done." 

"Yes, sir!" Tim said enthusiastically, though he quickly corrected himself. "I mean, uh, yes, Senior Ray!" 

I shook my head, amused despite myself, and led the way toward the market.

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100 berries= 1usd 

So 1 x 100= 100 berries

20 x 100= 2000 berries 

(2098)