8

After we talked for a while, Marco did something unexpected. He held out his hand, and suddenly, blue flames appeared. I recognized them instantly – they were from the Tori Tori no Mi, the Phoenix fruit, known for its incredible healing powers.

As Marco focused on me, the blue flames enveloped me. It felt warm and soothing, not at all like regular fire. I watched, amazed, as some of my minor injuries started to heal right before my eyes. But the big scar on my back, the one we'd just talked about, remained unchanged. And of course, my lost memories were still out of reach.

Marco looked a bit disappointed. "Looks like my power can't heal everything, yoi. Maybe a different kind of Devil Fruit could help with your memory," he mused.

Then, he mentioned something important. "The place we're heading to might be dangerous, especially for someone who can't remember their past. In three days, another Whitebeard ship will be passing through Sabaody on its way to the New World. You could stay on that ship and head to Whitebeard territory."

That idea sounded like a good plan, a chance to be somewhere less dangerous and maybe even figure out more about who I used to be.

Marco continued, "There are survivors from your team on that ship. And some of them are here with us. They'd be glad to see you, even if you don't remember them."

The thought of meeting people who knew the person I used to be was both exciting and nerve-wracking. What would they expect from me? How would they react when they realized I had no memory of them?

As Marco finished sharing my tale with the crew, their expressions shifted between wonder and worry. At first, many didn't recognize me, disguised by my unruly hair and thick beard.

A giant of a man, standing a towering three meters tall, stepped forward and wrapped me in a massive hug. "So glad you're alive," he boomed, relief evident in his voice. "Looks like you've been through a lot, consumed by flames. You've lost so much muscle, you're half the size you were before." His words echoed the harsh reality of my ordeal, highlighting the physical changes I had undergone.

As the crew absorbed this information, someone from the group called out, suggesting I get a haircut. Almost instantly, the atmosphere lightened. What started as a somber gathering quickly turned into a festive celebration, with food and drinks being passed around. I mingled with the crew but kept my drinking minimal, my mind racing with plans for the future.

I was considering the pursuit of powerful Devil Fruits. The Goro Goro no Mi from Sky Island was a tempting choice, but I was uncertain how to explain my knowledge of it. Alternatively, the Flame Flame Fruit or a Mythical or Ancient Zoan Devil Fruit could significantly enhance my physical abilities and aid in developing Haki.

Amidst the party's laughter and chatter, I resolved to start with rigorous training. I would ask the Whitebeard Pirates for assistance, expressing my desire to become invincible, so strong that no one, human or otherwise, could ever harm me again.

The more I thought about it, the more determined I became. With the support of the Whitebeard Pirates, I was confident in my path to unparalleled strength and power. This party marked not just a celebration of survival but the beginning of a new, formidable journey.

After a night of celebration, Marco announced the next morning that we would stay for two more days before I would be sent to Pops' territory on another ship. Following breakfast, I began my training regime on the deck, doing pull-ups, push-ups, and squats. The crew watched in amazement, unused to seeing such a dedicated training session so early in the morning.

Despite training for an hour, I didn't feel any exhaustion. Curious about more intensive training, I asked if there was any equipment I could use. I was directed to a part of the ship where weights were stored, ranging from small to impressively large ones. I spent the entire day there, pushing my limits.

As the day drew to a close, Marco approached me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "You've been training all day. What's driving you?" he asked.

I paused, setting down a weight. "I've decided to become as strong as possible," I explained. "I'm not wasting any more time. Every moment I have is going to be used to gain strength."

Marco nodded, seemingly impressed by my determination. "That's a commendable goal, yoi. Keep at it," he encouraged before leaving me to my routine.

As night fell, I retired to my quarters, exhausted but satisfied. Meanwhile, the world outside continued its endless cycle. Deep under the ocean, giant fish clashed in battles for food. Elsewhere, pirates plundered the seas, and marines worked tirelessly to stop them. Innumerable stories unfolded across the vast world of One Piece, a world I had been unexpectedly thrust into. As I drifted to sleep, I knew that my journey had just begun, and I was determined to carve out my own place in this chaotic, ever-changing world.

The two days on Marco's ship passed quickly, filled with a flurry of activities and a sense of anticipation. As the time arrived for me to leave for Whitebeard's territory, Marco gathered the crew. In a tone both solemn and reassuring, he explained my situation and penned a detailed letter to Whitebeard, recounting the events that had led to this moment.

Boarding the new ship bound for Whitebeard's territory, I braced myself for the long journey ahead, estimated to be a month. This daunting prospect, however, only served to fuel my determination. Every spare moment was spent in rigorous training. My routine was uncompromising: from dawn to dusk, I engaged in an intense regimen of push-ups, pull-ups, squats, and weight training. Each day, I pushed myself harder, driven by an insatiable desire to fortify both my body and spirit.

The voyage offered a front-row seat to the sea's wild and untamed nature. One memorable day, we glided past enormous fish near Fishman Island, their immense size defying belief. On another occasion, we were caught in a storm of ice rain, with massive ice chunks plummeting from the sky, transforming the ocean's surface into a surreal landscape. The unpredictable shifts from violent storms to calm, sunny weather were constant reminders of the Grand Line's capricious nature.

My relentless training regimen didn't go unnoticed by the crew. Initially, they observed with a mix of awe and curiosity. As time went on, several crew members found themselves inspired by my dedication and joined me in my training routines. Together, we pushed each other further, forming a bond through our shared commitment to fitness and strength.

As the days turned into weeks, the physical transformation I underwent was remarkable. My muscles grew more defined, my stamina increased, and a newfound sense of confidence emerged. This change wasn't just physical; mentally, I was evolving too. Each new day saw me more focused and determined to achieve my goal of becoming exceptionally strong.

Throughout our journey, we experienced both peaceful moments and signs of the world's inherent dangers. We saw distant skirmishes between pirates and the relentless pursuits by marine ships. Yet, no one dared to chase or confront our ship, a testament to the respect commanded by the Whitebeard flag.

As Whitebeard's territory began to appear on the horizon, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation washed over me. I was on the brink of beginning a new chapter, one filled with unknown challenges and opportunities. My determination was unwavering. I was ready to meet Whitebeard, ready to find my place in this vast and unpredictable world. My quest to become the strongest was just beginning, and I was prepared for whatever lay ahead.

Our arrival on the island signaled the first crucial task at hand - a meeting with Whitebeard, the man renowned as the strongest in the world. The mere thought of encountering him sent a ripple of nervous energy through me. Would he detect the anomaly within me, given that I had taken over this body? The capabilities of peak Observation Haki were well known for identifying the unusual. Additionally, I wondered if my voice had altered in this new form. Surely, Marco would have mentioned something if there had been a noticeable change.

As we neared the island, the Moby Dick loomed into view, a magnificent 150-meter ship crowned with a whale's head. Its grandeur symbolized the immense power of its captain. Realization dawned on me about the era we were in - eight years post the execution of the legendary Roger. My crewmates informed me that, to their knowledge, I was 21 years old.

We were greeted aboard the Moby Dick by Thatch, his unique hairstyle making him instantly recognizable. He led us toward Whitebeard, informing us that the captain, affectionately known as 'Pops,' was already apprised of my situation. This information had been relayed by Marco through the Den Den Mushi. This detail piqued my curiosity - why had Marco opted to send a letter when he could have easily communicated via Den Den Mushi? Perhaps, I speculated, it was to avoid the risk of sensitive information being intercepted; crucial matters were likely safer in written correspondence.

These thoughts swirled in my mind as we made our way to meet Whitebeard. The crew's demeanor reflected a sense of calm assurance, comforted by the knowledge that their captain was already in the loop. For me, the mix of excitement and apprehension intensified with each step. Meeting a figure as legendary as Whitebeard was a momentous occasion. I was eager to see how he would perceive me and intrigued by what insights he might offer about my unique predicament.

The moment I stepped onto the deck of the Moby Dick, I was immediately struck by his presence. There he was, the man, the legend, the myth – Whitebeard, standing a colossal 666 cm tall. His mere presence was overwhelming, an embodiment of power and authority. This was Whitebeard in his prime, a time when no one dared to challenge him, still a decade away from the Marineford War.

From Whitebeard's perspective:

I received a call from Marco informing me that Cesar was alive. A wave of surprise and joy washed over me. The more of my sons who are alive and well, the better. I inquired if Cesar could assist in uncovering who was responsible for the destruction of our ship. However, Marco relayed that Cesar had lost his memories, and the experiences he had been through had greatly changed him.

Marco mentioned that Cesar expressed a desire to become the strongest person alive, so no one could ever harm him again. This declaration piqued my interest. Such a drastic shift in mindset indicated the profound impact his recent experiences had on him.

Standing on the deck, facing Cesar, I could sense the changes in him. He seemed different, not just in appearance but in demeanor as well. There was a determination in his eyes, a resolve that hadn't been there before. It was clear that the ordeal he had been through had reshaped him, not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well.

As Cesar approached me, I prepared to speak with him, to understand his current state of mind, and to see how I could guide him.