One Piece: The Dragon King’s Voyage

The sun scorched the sky above Foosha Village, baking the cliffs and turning the sea into a shimmering pool of gold. Luffy sat cross-legged on his favorite outcrop, straw hat tilted back, tracing wild shapes in the dirt with his stick—ships with dragon heads, piles of meat taller than houses. "Gonna sail soon," he muttered, grinning so wide it crinkled his dark eyes. "Big ship, big crew—meat every day!" At seven, he was still all bones and bounce, scrawny arms scratched from tumbling down hills, but the hat—Shanks' hat—rested proud on his head, a promise stitched into its worn brim. The itch in his chest flickered, faint but insistent, like a coal smoldering under his ribs. He scratched it absently, giggling. "Weird belly!"

A shadow loomed sudden and loud, boots crunching up the slope. Luffy spun, stick raised like a sword, as a Marine ship's horn blasted from the docks below, sharp enough to scatter the gulls. "Oi, Luffy!" The voice hit like a thunderclap, and there he was—Monkey D. Garp, towering in his white coat, fists planted on his hips, a grin splitting his weathered face like a crack in stone. "Time's up, you little runt! No grandson of mine's gonna sit around dreaming of pirates!"

Luffy cocked his head, unfazed, stick still high. "Gramps! I'm not dreaming—I'm training! Pirate King's gotta be the toughest!" Garp's laugh roared out, shaking the cliffs, a sound that sent pebbles skittering. "Tough? You're a twig I could snap with one finger! That red-haired fool filled your head with garbage—time to fix that!" He lunged, faster than a man his size should move, and snagged Luffy by the shirt, hoisting him off the ground like a sack of flour. The straw hat wobbled, slipping low over Luffy's eyes, but he flailed with a giggle, legs kicking the air. "Hey, lemme go! I'm busy!"

Down in the village, heads poked out—fishermen pausing with dripping nets, women clutching baskets, Makino rushing from the tavern with her apron flapping. "Garp, what are you doing?" she called, voice sharp with worry, hands twisting together. Garp didn't break stride, hauling Luffy toward the docks. "Taking him to the mountains! Soft village life's no good—gonna toughen him up proper!" Luffy twisted in his grip, grinning back at her. "I'll be back, Makino! With a ship and tons of meat!" Her frown deepened, eyes lingering on the hat as Garp tossed him aboard the Marine ship with a thud. "Shove off!" Garp barked at his crew, and the vessel lurched, cutting through the waves toward Mount Colubo.

The jungle swallowed them an hour later—trees thick as fortress walls, vines dangling like ropes, air buzzing with cicadas and the screeches of unseen birds. Garp dragged Luffy along a muddy trail, one hand clamped on the kid's arm, the other swatting branches aside. "Keep up, brat!" he growled, coat snagging on thorns. "Can't have you turning into some pirate fool like Shanks!" Luffy stumbled behind, bare feet slipping in the muck, straw hat bouncing with every step. "Shanks is cool! He gave me this hat—said I'm gonna be stronger than anybody!" Garp snorted, loud and dismissive. "Stronger? You'd sink a rowboat! Need real grit—mountain grit!"

Luffy laughed, sharp and unshaken, the sound slicing through the humid air. "I've got grit! Tougher than you, even!" As he spoke, the itch flared—a quick, hot pulse that rippled out, rustling Garp's coat and sending a flock of birds bursting from the canopy. Garp squinted back, brow furrowing for a split second, then shook his head. "Weird kid. Too much sun, probably." He trudged on, grumbling about "soft living" and "pirate nonsense," while Luffy chattered nonstop—about Shanks' ship, the One Piece, a dragon figurehead that'd spit fire. "Cool, right?" he said, hopping over a root. Garp just grunted, boots sinking deeper into the trail.

The trees parted at last, revealing a clearing—a ramshackle hut squatting amid gnarled trunks, its roof sagging, smoke curling from a crooked chimney. Shouts and clattering spilled out, a chaotic din of rough voices and smashing pots. Garp didn't knock—he kicked the door wide, hinges squealing, and the noise inside died fast. The Dadan Family froze mid-scramble: Dadan, a hulking woman with wild orange hair and a cigarette dangling from her lips, perched on a stool, glaring over a half-eaten boar haunch; Dogra, wiry and patchy-bearded, clutching a club; Magra, squat and mean-eyed, mid-swig from a jug. A dozen other bandits—scarred, grubby, bristling with makeshift weapons—gaped as Garp stomped in, Luffy still dangling from his fist.

"Another one?!" Dadan's voice was a snarl, cigarette dropping to the floor as she leapt up, fists clenched. "Garp, you old bastard, what's this?" Garp tossed Luffy forward—he landed in a sprawl, popping up with a giggle—and crossed his arms. "Another brat for you to raise. Got him soft in that village—toughen him up like you're doing with that other one. No pirate crap, you hear?" Dadan's face went purple, veins bulging. "Two?! I'm not a damn nursemaid! One's bad enough—now this?!" Luffy bounced to his feet, straw hat askew, grinning ear to ear. "Oi, you guys strong? I'm Monkey D. Luffy, and I'm gonna be Pirate King!"

The bandits stared, then erupted—laughter rolling like thunder. "Pirate King?" Dogra wheezed, slapping his knee. "You're a twig with a dumb hat!" Magra smirked, jug sloshing. "Boar'll eat him before breakfast!" A lanky bandit with a missing tooth cackled, "He'll run crying by sundown!" Dadan slammed a fist on the table, silencing them, her glare cutting to Luffy. "Shut it! Garp, take him back—I've got my hands full with—" Her words choked off as a figure slipped into the doorway: Ace, ten years old, black hair tangled, a rusty pipe slung over his shoulder. His dark eyes flicked over Luffy—lingering on the straw hat—then away, cold and sharp. "Another weakling? Great. Just what I need."

Luffy's grin didn't budge. "Hey, you! I'm tough—tougher than anybody!" Ace snorted, shoving past toward the woods, pipe swinging lazily. "Prove it, hat-boy. Bet you can't." Garp smirked, already turning to leave. "Good luck, Dadan. Don't let 'em die—yet. I'll check back when I feel like it." He was gone in a crunch of boots, leaving Luffy bouncing on his toes amid a circle of glares and muttered curses. Dadan spat into the dirt, growling, "Two demon brats. Perfect."

The day dragged on, sticky and loud. Dadan shoved Luffy at chores—hauling water from a stream, stacking logs taller than him—grumbling about "extra mouths." He darted around, laughing through spills and splinters, the straw hat flopping as he splashed through mud or tripped over roots. "This is training!" he shouted, hoisting a bucket that sloshed half its load, grinning as Dogra dodged the spray. The bandits watched, half-amused, half-annoyed, muttering bets on how long he'd last. Ace vanished into the trees early, a shadow flitting out of sight, leaving no trail but the faint clang of his pipe against a rock.

By dusk, the hut buzzed with rough chatter, the air thick with smoke and the stink of roasted meat. Luffy sprawled on a mat near the wall, hat over his face, kicking in his sleep as snores rattled the room—Dadan's rumbling loudest, the bandits sprawled like fallen logs. The itch in his chest flared—sharp, insistent—and the dark behind his eyes shifted. A presence towered over him—red scales glinting like molten fire, wings stretching wide enough to swallow the sky, claws sinking into a cracked, ashen throne. Antares. "Vessel," its voice rumbled, deep as a quake splitting stone, "my flame stirs within you. Seek the spark that binds the seas—your will shapes the ruin to come." Heat pressed against Luffy's ribs, thick and heavy, a throne of ash flickering in the haze. One golden eye flared, molten and fierce, boring into him. "The world bends to the king's fire—or burns."

Luffy snored, then mumbled, rolling over, "Spark? Like treasure? Cool, scaly guy! I'm gonna find it—One Piece's mine!" The eye glinted, a flicker of amusement curling its edges, and the dream snapped away. Luffy jolted awake, hat tumbling to the floor, blinking at the rafters in the dim lantern light. "Whoa! Weird dream again!" He scratched his chest, giggling loud enough to make Dogra groan from his mat. "Treasure's out there—gotta get a ship! Gotta get strong!" The itch hummed, and for a heartbeat, his shadow stretched across the wall—horned, winged, massive—before snapping back to the scrawny kid sprawled in the straw. He didn't notice, flopping back with a yawn, hat clutched in his fists.

Morning broke with a crash—Dadan's boot slamming the floor, shaking dust from the ceiling. "Up, you lazy rats!" she bellowed, kicking mats and swinging a ladle like a club. "You're pulling your weight today—go hunt a boar or don't eat!" Ace was up first, stalking out without a word, pipe over his shoulder, his scowl cutting through the dawn haze. Luffy scrambled after, straw hat bouncing as he darted past the bandits. "Oi, wait up! We're a team now!" Ace spun, eyes narrowing. "Team? Buzz off—I don't need a crybaby slowing me down. Go back to your village." Luffy laughed, sharp and bright. "I'm no crybaby—I'm tough! Watch me!"

Ace didn't wait. He vanished into the trees, leaving Luffy stumbling over roots and vines, stick swinging like a makeshift blade. The jungle pressed in—branches snapping, birds shrieking overhead. Luffy grinned, undeterred, when a rustle cut through the noise—a trap, Ace's work. A net dropped from the canopy, weighted with rocks, whistling down fast. Luffy ducked, quick as a spark, and punched up—his fist cracked the branch holding it, a faint golden shimmer racing down his arm, heat rippling out. The net flopped uselessly to the ground, and Luffy giggled, "Shishishi! That was fun! Where's that boar?"

Ace froze mid-step on a high perch, peering through the leaves, pipe still in hand. "What the…" His voice was low, sharp, but Luffy didn't hear, charging deeper into the brush. The bandits trailed behind at a distance—Dadan's orders to "keep 'em alive"—smirking from a ridge. "He's done for," Dogra muttered, chewing a twig. Magra nodded, arms crossed. "Boar'll rip him apart—save us the trouble." Then it came—a hulking beast crashing through the undergrowth, tusks gleaming like daggers, hide bristling with coarse hair. Its snort shook the leaves, eyes wild and red.

Ace leapt down, pipe raised high, aiming for its flank. "Back off, hat-boy—this one's mine!" But Luffy was faster, bare feet pounding the dirt. "No way—it's mine!" He lunged, barehanded, as the boar roared and charged, tusks slashing the air. The bandits leaned forward, grinning—then gasped. Luffy's fist met the boar's snout with a boom, a burst of heat flaring sharp and sudden. Claws flickered out—black and gold, slashing wild—and a gust of hot wind knocked leaves from the trees. The boar squealed, tumbling back with scorch marks seared across its hide, twitching in the dirt. Luffy landed in a crouch, laughing as the claws snapped back to normal. "Shishishi! Easy! Told ya I'm tough!"

Ace stared, pipe lowering, his scowl faltering. "What are you?" His voice cut through the silence, sharp with something new—wary, maybe curious. Luffy brushed dirt off his hat, grinning ear to ear. "I'm Luffy! The toughest! You're my first crewmate now, right?" Ace's eyes narrowed, grip tightening on the pipe. "No way, freak. Hunt your own food." He turned, stalking off through the trees, but his steps slowed, head tilting back for a quick glance. The bandits gaped, jaws slack. "That ain't normal," Magra muttered, scratching his head. Dogra nodded, twig falling. "Demon kid—worse than the other one." Dadan, trudging up behind, spat into the dirt, growling, "Both of 'em—trouble I don't need."

Dinner was a brawl—Luffy and Ace wrestling over the boar's leg, shouting over each other in the smoky hut. "It's mine—I killed it!" Luffy crowed, yanking it free with a giggle. Ace shoved him hard, snarling, "I'd have done it faster if you didn't butt in!" Meat juice splattered, bowls clattered, and Dadan banged a dented pot with her ladle, roaring, "Eat or I'll skin you both alive!" Luffy laughed, tearing into the leg, the straw hat shadowing his eyes as he sprawled across the table. A ripple of heat pulsed from him—mugs rattled, a lantern flickered—and the bandits flinched, hands twitching toward clubs. "First crewmate," Luffy said, mouth full, pointing at Ace with a greasy finger. "Not a chance," Ace shot back, snatching a rib, but he stayed put, chewing with a scowl.

Night draped the mountain, stars prickling through the canopy. Luffy climbed onto the hut's sagging roof, hat in his lap, legs swinging as he stared at the sea glinting beyond the jungle. The dream's words echoed—"spark that binds the seas." "One Piece," he muttered, grinning wide. "That's it, right? Gonna find it—gonna be the best!" The itch burned hotter, and he flexed his hand—claws flickered out, black and gold, then snapped back. A faint growl hummed in the air, not the wind, not quite. He scratched his chest, laughing. "Shishishi! Weird again! Gotta get stronger—way stronger—for Shanks!"

Ace leaned against the hut below, pipe tapping his palm, his dark eyes flicking up at Luffy's silhouette against the stars. "Freak," he muttered, but his scowl softened—just a hair—before he turned away, kicking a pebble into the dark. Inside, Dadan slumped over her jug, muttering to Dogra, "That hat kid's a menace. Claws, heat—gonna burn this place down one day." Dogra shrugged, chewing a new twig. "He's tougher than he looks. Give him a week—him and Ace'll be scrapping like wolves." She snorted, blowing smoke. "Better not drag us into it."

Luffy flopped back on the roof, hat over his face, arms spread wide. "Gonna train here," he mumbled, half to himself. "Punch harder, jump higher—gonna make wings work next time!" The itch flared again, and a faint shimmer ran down his arms—golden flecks dancing for a heartbeat before fading. He giggled, kicking his legs. "Shanks said get strong—Ace'll see! Gonna get a crew—biggest ever!" The jungle rustled below, alive with night sounds—hoots, snaps, the distant growl of some beast. Luffy didn't hear, too busy dreaming of ships and meat, the straw hat shadowing a grin that promised chaos.

Days blurred into weeks, the mountain turning into a battleground of Luffy's making. He chased Ace through the trees, dodging traps and swinging his stick—sometimes his fists—every miss a laugh, every hit a shout of "Crewmate!" Ace dodged and struck back, pipe clanging against rocks or Luffy's wild punches, his snarls hiding a flicker of thrill. The bandits grumbled, patching the hut after Luffy's "training" cracked beams or scorched walls—small burns, quick flares, hints of something bigger simmering in him. Dadan took to yelling, "Keep that fire crap outside!" but Luffy just laughed, dragging Ace into hunts, races, brawls that left them bruised and grinning.

One dusk, as Luffy wrestled a log twice his size up a slope—muscles straining, a golden shimmer flickering along his arms—Ace watched from a branch, pipe twirling in his hand. "You're still weak," he called, voice sharp, but his eyes lingered on the scorch marks left in the dirt. Luffy dropped the log with a thud, spinning with a grin. "Not weak—tough! Getting tougher every day! You'll join me—gonna sail together!" Ace snorted, jumping down. "Dream on, hat-boy. I don't follow freaks." But he didn't walk away, lingering as Luffy hauled the log again, laughing through the strain.

Far beyond the trees, in the smoky sprawl of Grey Terminal, a blonde kid with a top hat smirked as he dodged a swinging fist, his quick feet dancing through the trash heaps. Sabo, already Ace's shadow in their shared rebellion, hadn't met the hat-wearing whirlwind yet, but the jungle's chaos whispered his name, pulling their paths closer with every brawl and burn.