ONE PIECE:I have a quirk & a quirk system(HAREM)

He didn't know how long he'd survive here, but one thing was certain: he wouldn't let this place break him. Not completely.

With that thought, Yami closed his eyes, forcing himself to sleep.

[A few hours later]

Yami stirred in the dim cell, his body aching from the cold, hard floor. His foot twitched, and the sharp, tiny pricks of teeth jolted him awake.

"Damn it!" he hissed, yanking his foot away. A rat scurried off, its beady eyes glinting in the faint torchlight outside the cell.

His stomach growled loudly, reminding him of the pitiful excuse for dinner he'd forced down earlier—watery soup and a stale piece of bread. Sleep had been fleeting, and now, the rats ensured he wouldn't get any more rest.

"Fantastic," he muttered bitterly, sitting up and leaning against the cold stone wall. His eyes drooped, but the discomfort kept him from drifting off.

With nothing better to do, Yami decided to check his system panel. "System," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The faint blue screen blinked into view in his mind.

————————

[System Panel]

• QP: 0

• Inventory: 2

• Quirks:

• Explosion (Bakugo - MHA)

• Spidey Senses (Spider-Man - Marvel)

——————————

"Zero QP?" Yami groaned quietly, rubbing his temple. "Figures."

He stared at the screen for a moment, his mind swirling with questions. Finally, he asked, "How do I get QP?"

The system's flat, mechanical voice responded. [Anything can be used as collateral for QP. Inanimate objects, living beings, or concepts with significant value may all be traded. The QP gained depends on the item's value.]

Yami blinked. "Living beings? You mean, like… people?"

[Affirmative.]

The idea left a sour taste in his mouth. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.

"And how much do I need for a spin on the quirk wheel?"

[One spin costs 50 QP.]

Yami exhaled sharply. "Fifty, huh? That's going to take forever."

The system continued, [You currently possess two items of significant value: an explosive collar (50 QP) and reinforced chains (50 QP). Trading both would provide 100 QP, enough for two spins.]

Yami grimaced. His hand reflexively went to the collar around his neck. "Yeah, no thanks."

[Acknowledged.]

His eyes drifted to his thin, scarred arms. He was weak, trapped in the body of a malnourished 10-year-old. The stale food barely kept him alive, and the idea of running away seemed impossible. Even if he managed to escape, he'd have to fight or run from CP0, admirals, and the entire World Government hunting him down.

"I don't even have a chance," he muttered, his voice filled with frustration.

A thought struck him. "What about the weapons in the fighting ring? Can I use those as collateral?"

[Yes. Weapons acquired from the fighting ring may be traded for QP. Most standard weapons are worth approximately 20 QP each. Exceptional weapons may hold higher value.]

Yami's brow furrowed as he considered the possibility. If he could gather enough weapons during the battles, he might be able to save up for a decent spin. But that raised another question.

"Should I save up for better quirks or just take the chance on a bunch of common ones?"

The system didn't respond this time, leaving him to his own thoughts.

Yami sighed, leaning his head against the wall. His mind wandered back to the fights he'd seen in the arena. The bloodshed, the screams, the deafening roar of the crowd—it was all a sick game for the Celestial Dragons.

If he was going to survive, he needed more power. The two quirks he had—Explosion and Spidey Senses—were useful, but he couldn't rely on them alone. He needs to train them, mostly the explosion quirk.

For now, though, all he could do was wait.

The next morning came far too quickly. The sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallway, and a guard slammed the butt of his spear against the bars of Yami's cell.

"Get up!" the guard barked.

Yami groaned, dragging himself to his feet. His body protested every movement, but he couldn't afford to show weakness.

"Move it, rat!" the guard shouted, unlocking the cell and shoving Yami into the corridor.

He stumbled but managed to catch himself, his spidey senses tingling slightly. He glanced over his shoulder, catching the guard's sneer.

"You're up next," the guard said, his tone dripping with disdain.

Yami clenched his fists tighter, his nails biting into his palms as Saint Gabrielle's voice rang out across the arena.

"Welcome, my esteemed guests!" Gabrielle's shrill, mocking tone echoed over the roaring crowd. His wife, Lilith, sat beside him, her expression twisted with malicious glee. "Today's spectacle is a special treat—our newest acquisitions will participate in a glorious tournament! A fight for survival!"

Lilith leaned forward, her voice sickeningly sweet. "This is the pre-preliminary round. Only the strongest, most entertaining slaves will make it through. And the prize for the champion?" She paused dramatically, her smirk widening. "Freedom."

The crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable. Yami's stomach churned at the word "freedom." He didn't believe it for a second. These monsters thrived on negative emotions.

A loud rumble broke his thoughts as a rack of weapons was wheeled into the arena. Axes, swords, daggers, spears, and even a few crude clubs glinted under the sunlight. Yami's spidey senses flared, urging him to stay on guard.

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN!" Gabrielle shouted, and the bell rang out.

The arena erupted into chaos.

Yami darted forward, weaving between the frantic bodies of slaves. Screams and shouts filled the air as blood splattered across the sandy ground. Some of the slaves fought like wild animals, desperation etched into their faces.

He grabbed a rusted dagger from the rack and quickly assessed his surroundings. His heart pounded as he dodged a swinging club aimed at his head. The man wielding it snarled, but Yami ducked under his arm and slid away.

"System," Yami whispered through gritted teeth as he swiped a second weapon—a chipped sword. "Trade these for QP."

The system's familiar monotone voice replied in his head. [Rusted dagger: 20 QP. Chipped sword: 20 QP. Total: 40 QP.]

He confirmed the trade, feeling a brief flash of satisfaction before the reality of the fight hit him again.

Another weapon caught his eye—a short spear discarded in the sand. He grabbed it quickly and traded it, pushing his total to 60 QP. His mind raced with calculations. He was close to his first spin, but now wasn't the time to celebrate.

A scream nearby snapped his attention back to the present. He turned to see a boy, no older than himself, standing a few feet away. The boy held a trembling dagger, his small frame shaking as he locked eyes with Yami.

The child's face was smeared with dirt and blood, his brown eyes wide with fear. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his lips quivered as he whispered, "I don't want to die."

Yami froze, his chest tightening painfully.

The boy lunged suddenly, his movements clumsy but desperate. Yami's spidey senses tingled, and he sidestepped instinctively, the dagger missing him by inches.

"Stop!" Yami shouted, his voice cracking. He didn't want to hurt the boy—he couldn't.

But the boy didn't stop. His tearful eyes burned with terror-fueled determination as he swung again. This time, Yami caught the boy's wrist, his grip firm but not cruel.

"Don't do this," Yami pleaded. "We don't have to fight."

"They'll kill me if I don't!" the boy cried, his voice breaking. He twisted in Yami's grasp, trying to free himself. "I don't want to die! Please, I have to live!"

Yami's stomach turned, his grip faltering for a moment. The boy saw his chance and wrenched himself free, slashing wildly. The blade grazed Yami's arm, and he hissed in pain, clutching the shallow wound.

The crowd roared louder, their cheers mixing with cruel laughter.

"Kill him!" someone shouted.

"Slit his throat!" another shouted

"Stab his multiple times, until his guts fall out!!!"another one shouted

Yami looked at the boy again, seeing not an enemy but a terrified child—. They were both trapped, forced into this nightmare by monsters who thrived on their suffering.

"System," Yami muttered under his breath. "Help me."

[No assistance available.]

His heart sank. He knew this was his fight, but still needed to find a way for both of them.

The boy lunged again, and this time, Yami sidestepped and swept the boy's legs out from under him. The dagger flew from the boy's hand as he hit the ground with a pained cry. Yami grabbed the weapon and tossed it aside, pinning the boy down.

"Stay down!" Yami growled, his voice desperate. "I'm not going to kill you!"

Tears streamed down the boy's face as he sobbed, his struggles weakening. "They'll kill me… Please, don't let them…"

Yami's vision blurred as tears welled up in his own eyes. He wanted to scream, to rage at the world for putting them in this impossible situation.

Yami stared down at the boy before him, his fists trembling. The dagger in the boy's hand wavered as he lunged forward, desperation fueling his erratic strikes. Yami sidestepped each attack, his spidey senses giving him just enough warning to avoid the blows.

"Stay still!" the boy shouted, his voice cracking with frustration.

"I don't want to hurt you!" Yami yelled, his voice pleading. But the boy wasn't listening—he couldn't. Fear and survival instinct had taken over.

The boy swung wildly again, and Yami caught his wrist mid-air, twisting it enough to make the dagger drop. The boy gasped in pain, but before Yami could push him back, the kid rammed his head into Yami's stomach.

Yami stumbled backward, the wind knocked out of him. The boy dove for the fallen dagger, snatching it up and pointing it toward Yami with shaking hands.

"Why are you hesitating?" the boy asked, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. "You're going to kill me anyway, aren't you?"

Yami shook his head, his voice firm. "No. I'm not."

The boy screamed and charged at Yami again, the dagger aimed at his chest. Yami ducked low and swept the boy's legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Before the boy could recover, Yami pounced, pinning him down.

"Listen to me!" Yami hissed. "I'm not going to kill you. But you need to trust me and stay down."

The boy struggled beneath him, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "If I stay down, they'll kill me anyway!"

Yami pressed his forehead to the boy's, their eyes locking. "Not if we make it look real. Just trust me."

The boy hesitated, his resistance faltering. Yami raised his fist, making sure to angle his body so the crowd couldn't see his expression. With a quick, calculated strike, he hit the boy across the temple, just hard enough to knock him unconscious.

The boy's body went limp beneath him, and Yami let out a shaky breath.

Gabrielle's voice boomed from above. "Finally! Now, keep moving or you'll join him on the ground!"

Yami stood, his fists clenched as the crowd roared. He turned and began scanning the battlefield, his mind racing. Weapons lay scattered everywhere—swords, spears, axes, and more. Yami darted toward them, snatching up everything he could carry and mentally noting their value for the system.

[New items registered for collateral. Total QP: 60.]

His eyes darted across the chaos, searching for anything valuable. That's when he spotted it—a fallen Fishman lying crumpled in the sand. The creature's body was massive, its scales dulled and smeared with blood.

Yami's stomach twisted at the sight, but desperation pushed him forward. "System, how much is a Fishman worth?"

[Base value: 1,000 QP. Current condition: heavily damaged. Adjusted value: 100 QP.]

Yami cursed under his breath. It wasn't much, but it could still help. The problem was getting to the body without drawing attention. He needed a distraction—something to mask his movements.

He glanced at his hands, a dangerous idea forming. "System, what happens if I use my explosion quirk at full power?"

Warning: Quirk activation at full power will severely deplete your energy reserves. However, it can generate significant amount of force.]

Yami took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. "I don't care. I need a smoke screen."

He sprinted toward the center of the battlefield, dodging combatants as his spidey senses guided him. Planting his feet firmly in the ground, he clenched his fists and concentrated, feeling the mini pops surge in his hands.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered.

With a deafening roar, Yami slammed both palms into the sand, releasing an explosive wave. The ground erupted beneath him, sand and dirt flying into the air in a blinding cloud. The arena was engulfed in chaos, screams and shouts echoing as combatants stumbled and shielded their eyes.

Using the cover of the smoke screen, Yami darted toward the Fishman's body. He crouched beside it, his heart pounding.

"System, now!"

[Item: damaged Fishman body. Current total QP: 160.]

Yami exhaled sharply, relief flooding through him. But his work wasn't done. The smoke was already beginning to settle, and the crowd's jeers were growing louder.

He grabbed a nearby spear, brandishing it to keep up appearances as he backed into the chaos. His mind raced, formulating his next move.

To be continued…