A thick tension hung in the air as the trio finally stood within Loguetown, the legendary "Town of Beginnings and Endings." For Ace, the sight of the execution platform, stark against the bustling port, was a visceral reminder of Gol D. Roger's death — a source of simmering resentment rather than reverence.

  "I hate this place," Ace growled, his gaze fixed on the distant scaffold. "Roger died here. But I'm going to carve my own legend into this world — a real pirate's legend."

  Klien, however, felt no such emotional weight. His eyes scanned the vibrant marketplace, the throngs of people, but his thoughts were laser-focused on a singular objective: a bounty. He understood the brutal calculus of this world — recognition was currency, and chaos was often the quickest way to earn it. He needed to become a part of that chaos, to leave his own mark.

  [Status Window]

  Level: 3

  EXP: 180/300

  HP: 1/1

  Bounty: 0 Berries

  Klien's precarious health was a constant worry, but the zero beside "Bounty" stung even more. Despite the significant disruption Ace had already caused on their journey, Klien remained unacknowledged — a ghost in the making. In this world, invisibility was a death sentence.

  While Ace seethed with rebellious intent, Klien took a more pragmatic approach, observing their surroundings. Loguetown teemed with Marines, merchants hawking their wares, and the ever-present shadow of bounty hunters. It was a dangerous place for a pirate seeking anonymity — a fact that seemed to fuel Ace's eagerness. He craved attention, and Loguetown, with its concentration of authority, was the perfect stage. For Klien, it represented an opportunity, a potential catalyst for the recognition he desperately needed.

  "I'm going to stir things up. Just watch," Ace declared, a wild grin illuminating his face as he surged forward, a fiery aura already licking at his limbs, toward a group of unsuspecting Marines concluding their patrol. His confidence radiated like the heat from his flames.

  Klien, ever mindful of his fragile state, instinctively recoiled. With only a single point of health, engaging in direct combat was suicidal. He couldn't afford to be swept up in Ace's impulsive actions.

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  Instead, he retreated to a quieter corner, his mind already shifting to his own survival strategy. His portable kitchen — a collection of well-worn tools and provisions — was his sanctuary. Cooking wasn't just a means of sustenance; it was his path to growth, each carefully prepared meal adding precious experience points. He hoped that with enough skill, enough culinary achievements, he could somehow translate that into the recognition he craved.

  Ace didn’t wait for anyone. With a roar, he unleashed a blazing fireball into the sky, a fiery beacon that instantly shattered the relative calm of Loguetown. Panic erupted as the Marines scattered, Ace's flames tearing through their ranks with terrifying ease. Hidden behind a sturdy building, Klien watched the unfolding chaos, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach — yet his resolve remained firm. He had to seize this opportunity, to make the most of the pandemonium.

  His hands moved with practiced efficiency, preparing the fresh fish, fragrant seaweed, and exotic spices he had diligently collected. The savory aroma of sizzling food began to mingle with the acrid smell of smoke and fear — a strange juxtaposition of domesticity amidst destruction. This was his routine, his desperate gamble: cook, level up, and somehow, finally, be seen.

  Hours later, the immediate chaos began to subside, leaving behind a town scarred by fire and fear. Ace had undoubtedly made his mark, but Klien felt no sense of relief. His gaze flickered to the familiar blue glow of his status window, a silent plea for change.

  [Status Window]

  Level: 3

  EXP: 250/300

  HP: 1/1

  Bounty: 0 Berries

  Still nothing. His experience had edged upwards — a small comfort — but the zero beside his bounty remained a stark reminder of his anonymity. His heart sank. Despite witnessing the explosions, the inferno, the sheer audacity of Ace's actions, he remained invisible. Ace and Deuce had made waves, their presence felt, but Klien was still adrift in the background.

  For the next two days, Klien maintained a low profile within the recovering town — a shadow moving through alleys and backstreets. He continued to cook, the fragrant steam a silent offering in the midst of the lingering tension, clinging to the hope that someone, somewhere, would take notice. But the wanted posters that began to appear around the town remained conspicuously blank where his name should have been.

  [Status Window]

  Level: 3

  EXP: 350/300 (Level Up)

  HP: 1/1

  Bounty: 0 Berries

  "I leveled up," Klien murmured, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. A marginal increase in Strength, Agility, and Intelligence offered a fleeting sense of progress — but it was a hollow victory. The only number that truly mattered remained stubbornly at zero.

  Just as despair threatened to engulf him, a snippet of conversation drifted his way, carried on the salty air. A group of Marines were discussing the aftermath of Ace's rampage.

  "Ace's bounty went up again," one Marine stated, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and frustration. "Fifty million Berries now."

  "And Deuce is at seven million," another added, shaking his head. "Those Fire Fist Pirates are causing quite a stir."

  Klien's breath hitched. Fifty million. Seven million. Numbers that represented recognition, power, survival. Ace's name was echoing through the town, Deuce's was being whispered — but Klien remained a non-entity. What did he have to do? Was mere proximity to chaos not enough? Was there some other, invisible metric he was failing to meet?

  The reality was starting to sink in with brutal clarity. He was invisible. He had been present for the initial chaos, a silent witness to Ace's fiery debut, yet he remained unseen, uncounted. His bounty was zero.

  Ace, the flamboyant force of nature, had achieved his goal: a bounty, a mark on the world. Even Deuce, in his shadow, had garnered some recognition. But Klien? He was still a blank slate — a ghost in a world that demanded presence.

  "What the hell is going on?" Klien muttered, his voice tight with frustration and a growing sense of panic. Time was a luxury he couldn't afford. This world was a predator, and without recognition, he was easy prey.

  He had to become visible, to earn his place, to secure his survival.

  He had to get a bounty.