Chapter 7: [Voyage] – Return? [S]
As Lynn opened his eyes, a translucent menu materialized before him, glowing softly in his field of vision.
[1. Gather Information] [2. Wreak Havoc] [3. Do Nothing]
The game-like interface hovered like an ethereal window, allowing Lynn to see what lay beyond it. But instead of the familiar wooden deck of the Rumbar Pirates' ship, he found himself staring at a sterile white ceiling.
The sharp smell of antiseptic stung his nostrils, and the distant beeping of medical equipment reached his ears. An IV drip stood beside him, the thin tube snaking into his arm. His body felt impossibly heavy, muscles atrophied and weak.
"This must be a hospital," Lynn whispered, his voice raspy from disuse. "Was everything I experienced with the Rumbar Pirates just... a dream?"
[Please decide before the timer runs out.]
[10... 9...]
The countdown pulsed urgently. Lynn's heart raced as memories of Brook's patient teaching, Yorki's boisterous laughter, and the crew's singing flooded back—too vivid, too detailed to be mere dreams.
"It's definitely not a dream," he muttered, wincing at the soreness in his throat. "But this feels surreal... Okay, let's go with number 1."
The moment his decision was made, the interface dissolved like morning mist. The world around him began to move as though someone had pressed play on a paused film. A text box appeared at the bottom of his vision, narrating his thoughts like subtitles in a foreign movie.
It had been ingrained in him that information was crucial for everything he needed to do. The fact that this strange entity gave him a choice confirmed it was not something to be taken lightly.
His perspective shifted abruptly. Lynn found himself fully conscious of his surroundings—a white hospital room with thin curtains fluttering gently from the air conditioning on each side. Though unfamiliar, the clinical scent left no doubt as to where he was. The antiseptic smell was a far cry from the salty air and wooden musk of the Rumbar Pirates' ship.
Like captions in a film, boxes of text appeared below his line of sight, updating him on the current situation. Though the room was eerily silent, the subtitles indicated conversations happening nearby, just out of earshot.
Lynn raised his hand to rub his eyes, and the sight shocked him. His fingers were thin and frail, skin stretched tight over prominent bones—nothing like the calloused, strengthened hands he'd developed during his training with Brook. Gone were the small scars from rope burns and sword practice. He flexed his fingers, feeling their weakness.
[You wake up in a hospital room. When you look around, you can't find anything particularly interesting.]
[You realize you've returned to Earth and are in the hospital because you ate a poisonous mushroom. When the nurse checks on you, she acts like she doesn't know why you're there.]
[After the doctor explains your condition and you come to terms with what happened, you can be considered fully recovered, though some muscle loss occurred due to the coma.]
[You tried asking about your sister, but no one would tell you the truth, quickly changing the subject.]
[This leaves you feeling uneasy, knowing it's better not to push too hard.]
Days blended together as Lynn regained his strength. The game-like interface occasionally flashed across his vision, sometimes with status updates, sometimes with cryptic alerts. Each appearance sent a chill down his spine—a reminder that what had happened was real, not delirium from his coma.
After a week of observation, when the doctors deemed him well enough to leave, Lynn discovered his sister had paid his hospital bill but never once visited. A knot formed in his stomach; something felt deeply wrong.
When the taxi dropped him off at their small apartment, Lynn stood before the door, key in hand, listening. No television sounds, no cooking noises, no humming—just silence.
"This is strange," he murmured, pushing open the door to reveal an empty home. Dust motes danced in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. "Where's my sister? There's no way she'd just disappear..."
Lynn wasn't typically the worrying type—his sister had always been fiercely independent—but an inexplicable unease settled over him like a shroud. Something important lingered at the edges of his memory, something from before the strange interface had appeared, but he couldn't grasp it.
That evening, he found himself preparing dinner, chopping vegetables with the precision and speed of someone who had done it hundreds of times. His hands moved with a rhythm and confidence they shouldn't possess. Even as he wondered at this newfound dexterity, his body continued to work independently, as though some muscle memory had been implanted while he slept.
The knife glided through onions and carrots with the same controlled force he once applied to bandaging wounds aboard the Rumbar Pirates' ship. The rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of blade against cutting board reminded him painfully of Brook tapping his foot in time as he played his violin.
Sleep came fitfully, memories of singing pirates and the endless blue ocean mixing with anxiety about his sister.
When the first light of dawn filtered through his curtains, Lynn was already awake. He rose at 5 AM, cleaned the apartment, and prepared breakfast with the same inexplicable efficiency.
After packing his school bag, he headed out, trying to ignore the wrongness that clung to every familiar sight.
Everything looked the same, yet felt fundamentally different—like returning to a childhood home to find all the furniture shrunk.
At the school entrance, a hulking figure leaned against the gate. The moment their eyes met, recognition flashed across the thug's face.
"Whoa, if it isn't the debtor's kid!" The thug's voice was grating, his smile predatory. "Nice to see you, brat. Glad you're better, but we still want our money back. When are you going to pay up?"
The thug loomed over Lynn, clearly expecting fear. But something had changed within Lynn. He'd watched crewmates succumb to an incurable illness.
He'd faced marines with cannons and cutlasses. He'd felt the weight of real loss. This posturing bully seemed... small.
A chuckle escaped Lynn's lips before he could stop it—not from amusement, but from the absurdity of feeling threatened by someone so insignificant compared to what he'd faced.
The thug's face contorted with rage. "You laughing at me?" He grabbed Lynn's collar, yanking him forward until their faces were inches apart.
The smell of cigarettes and stale coffee assaulted Lynn's senses as the thug muttered threats under his breath.
When Lynn didn't cower or respond, the thug's grip tightened. "Your bitch of a sister went missing while trying to pay off the debt, and now there's an even bigger one thanks to your hospital bill, brat! You're the only one left to pay it off, so get a job and stop wasting time at school."
The words hit Lynn like a physical blow. Images flashed through his mind—his sister's tired smile as she worked double shifts, the Rumbar Pirates facing their final moments, Brook's solemn promise to carry on. A hot rage bubbled up inside him, unfamiliar yet somehow right.
He glared at the thug, grabbing the wrist that held his collar. "What did you say?" His voice was quiet, dangerous—a tone he'd never used before returning.
"Are you deaf?" the thug sneered. "Your sister skipped out on us, so now you've got to cover her share."
Crack.
The sickening sound of bone giving way echoed in the morning air. The thug's face contorted in pain as Lynn's grip—strengthened by months of hauling ropes and handling injured crewmates—crushed his wrist. He released Lynn's collar with a yelp, stumbling backward.
"What the hell, kid?!" he howled, cradling his wrist.
"Hey! What are you doing?" A sharp voice cut through the confrontation. A police officer on morning patrol approached at a brisk pace.
The thug's eyes widened in panic. "I'll see you later, brat!" he shouted, already turning to flee.
The officer gave chase, leaving Lynn standing alone, his heart hammering in his chest. The rage that had surged through him moments before left him feeling hollow, disconnected from his surroundings.
He didn't remember walking to his classroom. One moment he was at the gate, the next he stood before his desk. A small vase with fresh flowers sat atop it, surrounded by scattered papers. The sight struck him like a physical blow, forcing all air from his lungs.
In Japan, a flower vase on a student's desk was a symbol of mourning—an acknowledgment that the owner had passed away. Someone had placed it there as a cruel joke, another form of bullying to welcome him back. Any other day, it might have hurt. Today, Lynn couldn't find it in himself to care. His mind was consumed by his sister's disappearance.
Moving mechanically, he took his seat, barely registering the scrape of the chair against the floor. Classes proceeded around him, lessons washing over him like white noise. Teachers spoke, but their words didn't penetrate the fog surrounding Lynn's thoughts. During breaks, classmates gave him a wide berth, whispering behind cupped hands.
When the final bell rang, Lynn remained seated, staring unseeingly at the vase, its flowers wilting slightly in the afternoon heat.
"This jerk thinks he can just ignore us?"
"Let's beat him up!"
A fist connected with Lynn's cheek, the pain sharp and immediate. The impact knocked him from his chair, sending him sprawling onto the cold classroom floor. His bullies had found him—the same ones who had tormented him before his hospitalization. They formed a circle around him, taking turns kicking his ribs, his back, his legs. Each impact sent shockwaves of pain through his body.
As he curled into a protective ball, a text box appeared before his eyes:
[Collect Information]
The words glowed softly against his darkening vision. Suddenly, like puzzle pieces clicking into place, a terrible realization dawned on him.
"These guys..." Lynn whispered, tasting blood on his lips. "They're the reason my sister is missing..."
Something snapped inside Lynn. He grabbed the ankle of the bully who was about to kick him again and pulled. With strength that shouldn't have been possible for his frame, he swung the boy like a human club, sending the others crashing into desks and chairs.
Memories and emotions flooded through him as he unleashed his fury:
People died...
I was useless...
I couldn't save them...
In the end, the place I loved was destroyed.
Barbaro and the others... they're all gone...
Even Master Brook... he must be dead by now...
And now my sister is missing...
But these people...
These bastards still want to oppress me?
"Ah!"
"No, no, no! Don't come closer!"
"Help me!"
His body moved with a fluid grace born from Brook's relentless training. The strength he'd developed aboard the Rumbar Pirates' ship returned in full force, his muscles remembering what his mind had tried to dismiss as a dream.
He moved between his attackers with terrifying efficiency, the classroom becoming an impromptu battlefield.
One bully crashed into the blackboard with enough force to crack it. Another went through a desk, splintering the wood.
A third tried to flee, only to be caught and hurled into the remaining two. The sound of breaking furniture mingled with cries of pain.
When the dust settled, five students lay unconscious on the classroom floor, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, foam frothing at their mouths. Lynn stood in the center of the destruction, his uniform torn, blood—both his and theirs—spattered across his face and knuckles.
The school's security guard, drawn by the commotion, froze in the doorway. His face paled at the carnage before him—five students broken and defeated, and Lynn, standing unmoved amidst the chaos, eyes cold and distant.
As Lynn slowly walked toward the door, he fixed the guard with a stare that spoke of horrors witnessed and survived.
"Leave," he said simply, his voice carrying a weight beyond his years.
The guard fled, calling for ambulances as he ran. Lynn didn't care. He walked out of the school, his steps purposeful. His sister was missing, and now he knew where to start looking.
After wandering through increasingly unfamiliar streets, Lynn finally reached the loan shark's office—a dingy storefront with blacked-out windows and a neon sign that flickered intermittently. Outside, among scattered trash, lay a steel pipe, solid and heavy. The cold metal felt right in his hands as he hefted it, testing its weight.
With the pipe gripped firmly, Lynn pushed open the door, ready to face whatever—and whoever—stood between him and the truth about his sister.
Character Status: Lynn Sadogashima
Level: 1
Class: [unknown]
HP: 95/95 (★★★☆☆ - Further improved through recent conflict)
MP: 80/80 (★★★★☆ - Increased after mysterious experience)
Core Attributes:
• [STR]: 25/100 ★★★☆☆ (Improved) - Suddenly enhanced in moment of crisis
• [VIT]: 32/100 ★★★☆☆ (Improved) - Endured significant punishment
• [AGI]: 27/100 ★★★☆☆ (Improved) - Demonstrated exceptional combat mobility
• [INT]: 72/100 ★★★★☆ (Advanced) - Processing complex information across worlds
World-Specific Attributes:
• [Sea Legs]: 55/100 ★★★☆☆ (Proficient) - Maintained despite return
• [Haki Potential]: ?? (Locked) - Still dormant
• [Musical Aptitude]: 35/100 ★★★☆☆ (Developing) - Rhythmic combat movements show influence
Passive Skills:
• [Dexterous Hands] Lvl 4 - Applied in unexpected situations
• [Modern Knowledge] Lvl 4 - Reintegrating with original world
• [Survivor's Instinct] Lvl 5 - Dramatically enhanced by cross-world experience
• [Medical Insight] Lvl 2 - Instinctively targeted vulnerable anatomical points
Active Skills:
• [Basic Treatment] Lvl 3 - Unused in current context
• [Medicinal Brewing] Lvl 3 - Knowledge retained
• [Musical Performance] Lvl 2 - Struggling but improving
• [Anatomical Scan] Lvl 2 - Applied offensively in combat
Unique Skills:
• [Echoes] Lvl 1 - Growing awareness of connections between worlds
Techniques:
• [Swordsmanship Lv. 2]: Beginner - Applied principles to improvised weapon
• [Herbology Lv. 3]: Intermediate - Knowledge maintained
• [Medicine Lv. 3]: Intermediate - Enhanced by previous experiences
• [Music Lv. 2]: Beginner - Combat movements flow with internalized rhythm
Achievements:
✓ [Ship's Apprentice] - Found your place among the Rumbar Pirates
✓ [Survivor's First Year] - Completed one year in the One Piece world
✓ [Field Medic] - Helped treat the crew during crisis
✓ [Student of the Sword] - Began training under Brook
✓ [World Traveler] - NEW! Experienced transition between realities
Current Quest:
» [Missing Sister] - NEW! Find the truth behind your sister's disappearance
» [Debt Collectors] - NEW! Confront those responsible for your family's suffering
» [Reality Check] - NEW! Determine what is real and what is simulated
Technique Levels: 1: Novice, 2: Beginner, 3: Intermediate, 4: Advanced, 5: Expert, 6: Master, 7: Advanced Master, 8: Grand Master, 9: Advanced Grand Master, 10: Unknown
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