Fmes..

  Chapter 2: A Strange Shore

  William West stumbled onto rough stone, the jagged edges biting into his palms as he caught himself, the pungent smell of fish and salt flooding his nostrils. The sun bzed overhead, searing his eyes—no trace remained of the rain that had shed his st moments before the fall. Wooden houses, their pnks weathered and bleached by the relentless sea air, lined a dusty road stretching before him. A tall tower loomed atop a hill, its shadow slicing across the unfamiliar sprawl below. The air thrummed with life—fishermen bellowed over the ctter of crates being stacked, seagulls screeched as they wheeled above, and the rhythmic crash of waves rolled in from beyond the buildings. The townsfolk moved with purpose, dragging nets heavy with glistening fish, hefting barrels, their voices blending into a low, constant hum.

  His breath caught as boots stomped closer, their rhythm sharp and insistent, pulling him from his daze. The memory of that mysterious system—whatever it was—loomed in his mind, vast and unformed, a shadow ready to overtake him.

  The stomping stopped, and a voice cut through his confusion. “You lost?”

  William twisted his head, squinting against the sunlight glinting off the stone. A girl stood a few paces away, her sturdy brown boots pnted firmly in the dust. She looked about his age—seventeen, perhaps—with long blond hair catching the light like golden threads woven through the salty haze. Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity, sharp and assessing, and she wore a simple sea-blue dress that fluttered faintly in the breeze, paired with those boots that had announced her approach. In her arms, she carried a weathered basket holding a few twigs and a tattered cloth scrap. Her stance was steady, confident, like someone accustomed to navigating both the terrain and the people around her.

  “I… aye, er— maybe,” he said, pushing himself up from the ground, his broad frame unsteady on the uneven stones. His Scottish brogue felt thick and clumsy in this sun-scorched pce, the words tripping over themselves. “I don’t know this pce.”

  “You’re near Shells Town,” she replied, stepping closer, her boots kicking up faint clouds of dust. “I’m Yuki. Saw you stumble in—thought you might need help.” Her voice was calm, but her gaze held a keen edge, as if she were already piecing together his story.

  “William West,” he said, meeting her steady look with his own uncertain one. “Thanks for the help. I’m not sure how I got here. Fell from a cliff back home, woke up on the beach.” The words sounded absurd even to him, but her expression didn’t falter.

  Her brows lifted slightly, a faint crease of surprise crossing her face, though she didn’t mock him. “A cliff? That’s a rough tumble. You’re lucky to be standing.” She tilted her head, her eyes weighing him without judgment. “You don’t seem like you’re from around here.”

  “Scotia,” he said, the name anchoring him to a life that felt distant now. “Highnds, cold and rugged. Nothing like this heat and dust.” He gnced around, the market’s cmor—vendors haggling over prices, the clink of coins, the distant cng of a bcksmith’s hammer—heightening his disorientation. It was all so alive, so unlike the quiet, somber glen he’d left behind.

  “Scotia?” Yuki’s frown deepened briefly, then eased with a shrug. “Never heard of it. This is the East Blue—oceans, isnds, pirates, and Marines stirring trouble. Maybe the sea dragged you farther than you think.” She paused, gncing toward the docks where ships rocked gently, their sails furled against the horizon. “The tides here can be strange—pull you in from anywhere, I suppose.”

  William nodded, though doubt gnawed at him. The fall, that voice, the screen—it wasn’t just the sea. Something unnatural had brought him here, something he couldn’t yet grasp. “I could use a rest, if you’ve a pce,” he said, his voice rough from salt and bewilderment.

  “My house is nearby,” she offered, nodding toward a path veering from the town’s bustle. “Come on—I’ve got dry clothes and food. I always keep extras; the sea’s unpredictable, and so are the people it washes up.” Her tone was practical, but a warmth threaded through it, hinting at experience beyond her years.

  Relief loosened the knot in his chest. “I’d be thankful.”

  She turned, leading him past the shores into her house nearby, her steps quick and sure, as if the path were etched into her bones. As they walked, Yuki paused by a small stall where an elderly woman arranged baskets of dried fish and herbs. “Yuki, dear,” the woman called, her voice raspy with age, “did you bring the twine I asked for?”

  Yuki smiled, pulling a small coil from her basket and handing it over. “Of course, Marta. And I’ve restocked your salt—should st through the next haul.” The woman nodded gratefully, and Yuki moved on, her basket lighter now. William observed the exchange, noting how effortlessly Yuki managed it, her preparedness shining through in small, quiet acts.

  The air cooled as they entered the shade in the town, with William’s boots thudded against the ground, each step a reminder of the mud he’d left behind. He gnced at Yuki, her pace unwavering, her eyes scanning the path with quiet vigince. “You seem to know this pce well,” he said, breaking the silence.

  “I’ve lived here most of my life,” she replied, a note of pride in her voice. “Shells Town’s small, but it’s got its own rhythm. You learn to read it—know when the tides rise, when the Marines patrol, when to stock up before a storm.” She gestured toward the hill where the tower stood. “That’s the Marine base. They keep order, or so they cim, but they’re heavy-handed. Best to stay out of their way.”

  William nodded, storing the details away. This world was as complex as his own had been, just with different threads to untangle. They walked in silence for a time, the path winding deeper into the woods until a cabin came into view—small, weathered, its wood streaked with moss and its roof patched with care. Smoke curled from a chimney, and the faint scent of herbs drifted on the breeze.

  Inside, warmth enveloped him, ced with woodsmoke and the aroma of dried herbs hanging in bundles from the rafters. A bed sat in one corner, its quilt a patchwork of faded scraps, neatly folded. A sturdy shelf lined a wall, holding jars beled in precise handwriting—herbs, dried fruits, salted fish, all meticulously organized. A ledger y open on a table beside maps and quills, its pages filled with neat tallies and notes, ink still fresh on the test entry. A fire glowed in the hearth, casting flickering light across the rough walls, shadows shifting like restless spirits.

  Yuki crossed to a chest, pulling out a bundle of clothes—a patched shirt and trousers, folded with care. “Change into these,” she said, handing them over. “I’ll get water and bread—got cheese and an apple too. I’ve learned to keep provisions ready; you never know when the tides will change.” Her tone was casual and lighthearted, but William caught the readiness beneath it.

  He took the clothes, their coarse fabric a comfort against his rough hands, and stepped behind a woven screen. He shed his damp tunic, stiff with salt and mud from a world away, and pulled on the new outfit—loose but dry, smelling faintly of cedar.

  The trousers were patched at the knees, the shirt softened by wear, and he felt a flicker of gratitude for the simple kindness. Emerging, he ran a hand through his damp curls and found Yuki setting out a meal: a wooden cup, bread with a crisp crust, a sharp wedge of cheese, and a green apple gleaming in the firelight.

  “Eat,” she said, sitting across from him, elbows on the table, chin resting on her hands. “You look worn thin.”

  He tore into the bread, its crust cracking under his teeth, the cheese sharp on his tongue, the apple’s sweetness reviving him bite by bite. “You’re kind to a stranger,” he said between mouthfuls, his voice rough but warm.

  “I’ve seen odder things wash ashore,” Yuki replied, her tone light with a bubbly smile, her eyes soft. “Tell me about Scotia.”

  “Cold hills, sheep, tough folk,” he said, pausing to chew, the memory vivid as the wind back home. “Lost my parents years back. Lived alone since, chopping wood, mending what broke. ”

  Her face softened, empathy flickering in her eyes. “I’m sorry. Mine were taken by a storm long ago. Been here since, keeping things in order. My uncle taught me to be ready—said a steady hand keeps everything running, even in chaos.” She gnced at the ledger, her fingers brushing its edge. “I help the townsfolk too—trade supplies, mend what I can. It’s not much, but it keeps the pce steady.”

  William nodded, sensing the weight behind her words. She wasn’t just surviving; she was holding things together, piece by piece. “We’ve that in common, then,” he said, a faint smile breaking through. “Loss, and carrying on.”

  “Aye,” she echoed, mimicking his brogue with a quick grin. “What’s this world to you?”

  She spoke of seas and isnds, pirates chasing the One Piece, Marines enforcing their rule—a wild, tangled world, far from his glen yet heavy with its own struggles. “It’s a pce of extremes,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “Freedom on the waves, but danger too. The Marines keep order, but their grip’s tight—especially under Captain Morgan. He’s got the base locked down, and anyone who steps out of line feels it.”

  “Sounds like the lords back home,” William muttered, his jaw tightening. “Always squeezing the folk dry.”

  Yuki’s lips quirked in a half-smile. “Yeah.. something like that. But here, there’s always a way to slip through—if you’re careful.”

  He leaned forward, curiosity cutting through his fatigue. “You’ve got a knack for that, don’t you? Keeping things steady, finding ways.”

  She shrugged, but a spark lit her eye. “I do what I can. It’s not always easy, but I’ve learned to make do.”

  Their conversation lulled, the fire crackling softly, and William felt a strange calm settle over him, despite the uncertainty gnawing at his mind. This pce was foreign, but it had a rhythm he could almost grasp. He gnced at Yuki, her hands folded neatly, her gaze drifting for a moment before snapping back.

  “Trouble’s brewing here,” she said after a pause, her voice tightening. “The Marines caught my friend, Zora—a swordswoman, fierce and stubborn. She took food for some kids, and now Captain Morgan’s got her locked up.”

  “Zora?” William leaned in, the name sparking interest. “Sounds like she’s in deep.”

  “She is,” Yuki said, her fingers tapping the table restlessly. “I’ve thought about breaking her out, but it’s too much alone. I’m better at keeping things together than fighting.” Her eyes flicked to the maps, then back to him. “I’ve got a rough pn, but it’s risky. I could use someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty.”

  William watched her, noting the way she’d already id out supplies, the careful way she spoke of pns and risks. She was resourceful, a steady hand in a storm. “I could help,” he said, the words settling firmly between them. “If you’ve got a pn, I’ll back you.”

  Her eyes widened, hope fshing in them. “You’d do that? For someone you just met?”

  “You fed me, gave me shelter,” he said, shrugging. “And I don’t like seeing decent folk trapped.”

  Before Yuki could reply, a shimmer flickered in the air, faint at first, like heat rising off the stone, then solidifying into a glowing blue screen hovering before William’s eyes. It pulsed softly, its edges sharp and unnatural against the cabin’s warmth:

  [System Activated]

  [User: William West]

  [Cycle 1: One Piece World]

  [Main Quest: Assist Yuki in rescuing Zora from the Marine base]

  [Side Objective: Find the main objective of this world]

  [Stats: Unlocked]

  Mental

  Luck: 1.7 (Chance favoring the user)

  Wisdom: 1.3 (Retaining knowledge / Memory)

  Intelligence: 1.1 (Processing power)

  Perception: 1.1 (Awareness of surroundings)

  Physical

  Agility: 1.2 (Speed and reflexes)

  Strength: 1.3 (Physical power)

  Dexterity: 1.1 (Precision and coordination)

  Endurance: 0.8(Stamina and resilience)

  [Accept Quest? Yes/No]

  William stared, the bread slipping from his fingers to the table with a soft thud. His heart pounded, the screen’s glow reflecting in his wide eyes. “Yuki… do you see this?”