To strengthen his body, experiment with his Devil Fruit, and gain real combat experience, Mark made it a daily routine to plunge into the jungle and forests, seeking out massive, ferocious beasts to fight.
Even after ten years, he still hadn't fully explored the island—it was just too dangerous. The jungle was teeming with monstrous threats: serpents stretching dozens of meters, beasts as large and fearsome as ancient monsters, even man-eating trees that moved on their own and hunted living prey. It was terrifying.
Sure, Mark had taken down this particular kong gorilla with ease—but he wasn't deluded. Deep in the forest, there were still creatures so massive and mysterious that he didn't stand a chance against them. Some of them could crush him like a bug.
The East Blue was known as the weakest of the four seas, and yet this island held beasts that would give the Grand Line a run for its money. That probably explained why it remained uninhabited—who in their right mind would live here?
Still, Mark felt incredibly grateful to Borar Tori of the Black Rhino Pirates for the Devil Fruit he'd stumbled upon—because it was a powerful one.
Paramecia-type: Impact-Impact Fruit.
It allowed him to generate and manipulate concussive force—amplifying his punches and kicks with explosive power. He could launch shockwaves into the air, or even compress the atmosphere into dense pockets of air that hit like bricks—or cannonballs.
It was an immensely powerful fruit. What is concussive force? It's the sudden force generated when two objects collide—building rapidly and disappearing in a blink. It's the same kind of power behind punches, sprints, or even meteor strikes. That's impact.
And how far a user could go with it? That depended entirely on how far they were willing to push their abilities.
Honestly, it had way more development potential than most Logia-type fruits. Sure, the Logias were busted in their own right—think laser beams, molten magma, and freezing ice—you unlock those, and you're instantly stronger than 99% of people on the seas. As long as you didn't run into a natural counter, you were basically unkillable.
But even Sakazuki, an Admiral and magma-wielding monster, got manhandled by Whitebeard—just one punch sent him crashing into the earth. The only reason he survived was thanks to his monstrous physique and his Logia intangibility, which let him tank most of the damage. Anyone else? Dead or broken.
But with top-tier Paramecia fruits? The ceiling was even higher.
Take Whitebeard's Tremor-Tremor Fruit—its raw power was world-ending. And Mark's Impact-Impact Fruit… if developed fully, who was to say it couldn't reach that level?
That night passed without incident—just the distant howls of predators hunting in the jungle. After a wild night of training and a whole barrel of booze, Mark passed out cold.
Good thing he'd already beaten or scared off every beast in a ten-mile radius. Otherwise, if a monster had stumbled in and swallowed him whole in his sleep… man, what a tragic way for a transmigrated soul to go.
And just like that, the most unlucky isekai protagonist dies. The end.
—Cough, just kidding.
Morning. The sun blazed overhead. Still half-asleep, Mark rolled over and blinked his eyes open.
"Man, that was a good sleep," he muttered groggily, stretching out his limbs before slowly getting to his feet.
"A new day… the start of the New Year…" he hummed half-heartedly as he squatted by the cliffside to wash up, lazily gazing out over the sea, hoping—just maybe—to spot a passing ship.
It was a habit he'd built over the past ten years: every morning, brushing his teeth on the cliff and scanning the ocean.
Suddenly, his entire body jolted.
Eyes wide, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared hard at the horizon.
Then he practically screamed: "Holy crap—is that a ship?!"
Sure enough, just about a nautical mile off the coast, a massive ship striped in red and blue was cruising along the waves. And at the top of its mainmast, the flag it flew didn't bear a skull and crossbones—but a blazing red clover symbol.
"Not a pirate ship! Thank god—it's not a pirate ship!" Mark nearly fainted from joy.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen ships in these ten years—once seven years ago, and again five years back. But both had flown the Jolly Roger, and back then he'd been too weak to risk calling out. Who knew what kind of pirates they were? Maybe they'd kill him just for fun.
"Hey! Over here! Help! Somebody!"
He tossed aside his toothbrush stick and beastbone cup and started jumping, waving frantically toward the distant vessel.
To make sure they saw him, Mark quickly gathered dry wood and straw, throwing together a makeshift bonfire and striking a flint to light it.
The flames roared to life, and thick black smoke rose into the sky.
Aboard the Gigiriel.
A young sailor in a blue seaman's uniform spotted the plume of smoke rising from the infamous and feared Kukos Island of the East Blue. His sharp eyes made out a figure waving on a cliffside near the source of the fire. He could even faintly hear shouting.
"Captain! Captain!" the sailor called, racing to the captain's quarters on the second deck.
"What is it, Dimitri? Slow down," came the reply, as the door opened to reveal Gurley Jaron, a forty-year-old captain clutching a half-empty bottle.
"Captain, there's someone calling for help—from Kukos Island!"
"What?" Gurley Jaron blinked in disbelief, pushing past Dimitri and rushing to the main deck. Several other sailors gathered as well.
"There, Captain!" Dimitri pointed out toward the island.
The captain pulled out his spyglass and focused in.
There—on a clifftop—was a young man in furs, waving like crazy beside a blazing signal fire.
"What should we do, Captain?" Dimitri asked nervously after a long pause.
"Drop anchor," Gurley Jaron ordered. "Dimitri, grab two men and ready the lifeboat. We're picking him up."
"I'm in!"
"Me too!"
Soon enough, Dimitri and two other young sailors were below deck, preparing the lifeboat.
The Gigiriel came to a halt, and the rescue boat was lowered.
"YES! I'm saved!" Mark shouted as he saw the lifeboat headed his way. He ran back to his hut, hurriedly packed his belongings into a huge beast-hide bag, and sprinted for the beach.
Laughing, arms wide, he cried out:
"Ha ha ha! The open sea, here I come!"
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