Creating Characters in One Piece

The salty breeze of the sea swept over the small Marine vessel, carrying with it the scent of brine and damp wood. The ship was little more than a glorified patrol boat, its weathered sails creaking as they caught the wind. The deck was alive with activity as Marines went about their business—some polishing cannons, others tightening ropes, and a few lounging near the mast, chatting and laughing. 

Ray, however, was not part of the camaraderie. 

Standing near the ship's bow, mop in hand, he dragged the soapy tool back and forth across the deck with mechanical precision. The wooden boards gleamed under his effort, the sunlight glinting off the wet streaks. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, but he ignored it, focusing on the repetitive task as though his life depended on it. 

"Chore Boy Ray," someone called from behind, followed by a snicker. "Don't scrub too hard, or you'll mop a hole right through the ship!" 

He forced a grin without turning around. "I'll try to keep it intact, sir." 

The Marines laughed and returned to their chatter, leaving Ray to his silent misery. 

He wasn't just scrubbing the deck; he was scrubbing away his frustration. His hands worked the mop harder than necessary, and his mind raced with a single thought,

'This is not how I imagined my life in One Piece.'

The mop made a wet *squelch* as he pushed it forward, and then it happened. 

Ray froze. His hands gripped the mop's handle so tightly his knuckles turned white. His breath hitched, and his eyes flew wide open. 'Not again…'

His vision blurred for a moment as the realization hit him like a cannonball. Deep inside his mind, he felt the telltale flicker—the fading life of another creation. A character he'd poured his hard-earned berries into, someone who was supposed to bring him closer to freedom and fortune, was gone. Dead. 

Ray's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath, though he wanted to scream. This wasn't just bad luck—this was outright robbery by the universe itself. 

Twenty thousand berries. Poof. Gone, forever...

His mop faltered in its rhythm, the soapy water pooling uselessly under his feet. He stared blankly at the horizon, the distant island slowly coming into view. It wasn't a place he recognized from the *One Piece* canon—just another mystery in this unpredictable world. 

'How am I supposed to get anywhere like this?' he thought bitterly. His lips quivered, caught between a frustrated yell and a defeated sob. The deck swayed slightly underfoot, mirroring his unstable emotions. 

Ray wanted to throw the mop overboard, curse the heavens, and maybe punch the nearest Marine, but instead, he just stood there, clutching the mop like it was his lifeline. Because for now, it was. 

"Why do I even bother?" he whispered, the words lost in the ocean breeze.

Ray let out a deep, defeated sigh as a familiar interface materialized in front of him, translucent and hovering just above his mop. The screen had a polished, otherworldly glow, its clean, sharp lines contrasting starkly with the weathered deck of the Marine ship. 

It displayed the details of his latest creation, mocking him with its untapped potential. 

---

Name: Dave (N010) 

Gender: Male

Occupation: {Marine} Lieutenant Commander 

Cost: 20,000 berries 

Abilities:

- Armament Haki: Professional 

- Observation Haki: Initial 

- Swordmastery: Basic 

- Cooking: Initial 

-Rokushiki: Tekkai(Basic), Geppo(Initial)

Overall Potential: {Marine} Captain 

---

Ray stared at the screen, his mop trembling slightly in his hands. Lieutenant Commander with Captain potential….he thought bitterly. 'And I couldn't even get a return on my investment.'

Of all the characters he had painstakingly created, Dave had been the most promising. With two forms of Haki, 2 out of the 6 Rokushiki learned and a decent grasp of swordsmanship, the man had been destined to climb the ranks of the Marines, paving the way for Ray's schemes. 

And now? Gone. Just like the rest. 

He felt the weight of frustration pressing on his chest, heavier than any mop bucket he'd ever carried. Out of the ten characters he'd created, each costing him a fortune, not one had managed to make a difference. 'This one had potential!' he screamed internally, his mind replaying the stats that could have made Dave a game-changer. 

Not too game changing but enough to protect himself....at least in his mind.

Instead, Dave had joined the graveyard of failed investments—a pile of wasted potential and wasted money. 

Ray shook his head, dispelling the screen with a thought. The interface faded into nothingness, leaving only the faint scent of soap and seawater around him. 

"Twenty thousand berries…" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the ocean breeze. He resumed mopping, slower this time, as if the weight of his failures had transferred to the mop itself. 

"Why does this keep happening?" he whispered to no one in particular, his voice tinged with exhaustion and bitterness. Another bead of sweat rolled down his temple, mixing with the soapy water on the deck. 

The distant island grew larger as the ship sailed closer, but Ray barely noticed. He was too busy wallowing in his misfortune. For the tenth time, he was left with nothing but regret and an aching sense of futility. 

And yet, despite the frustration, a tiny ember of determination flickered in his chest. He wouldn't give up. Not yet.

(904)