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Chapter 2: Flames, Pirates, and New Opportunities

  The coarse sand still clung stubbornly to Klien’s skin, a gritty reminder of his arrival on this forgotten speck of land. Two sunrises and sunsets had bled into one another, each marked by the gnawing emptiness in his stomach and the persistent dread of his precarious existence. He was alone, adrift in a world that felt both alien and terrifyingly real.

  When consciousness had returned, it was accompanied by the unwelcome sight of the blue system window, a ghost of his former life as an avid MMO player. Now, it was his stark reality.

  [Status Window]

  


      
  • Name: Klien


  •   
  • Level: 1


  •   
  • EXP: 0/100


  •   
  • HP: 1/1


  •   
  • Bounty: 0 Berries


  •   
  • Attributes:

      


        
    • Strength: 5


    •   
    • Agility: 5


    •   
    • Intelligence: 5


    •   


      


  •   


  The final line was a cruel twist of fate. His Hit Points, the very measure of his life force, were tethered to a number that represented his notoriety, his value in this strange world. Zero Berries. Zero protection. A single misstep, a hungry beast, even a nasty fall—any of these could be his end. Resting wouldn't heal him beyond his current, fragile state. Food would only stave off the immediate pangs of hunger, not bolster his nonexistent resilience.

  But there was a flicker of hope, a bizarre connection to his past. His in-game character possessed the unusual ability to gain experience through the simple act of cooking. No epic battles, no perilous quests, just the methodical preparation of food. It was a lifeline, however thin.

  Driven by the primal need to survive, Klien became a forager. The island offered little in the way of sustenance: skittish birds that remained just out of reach, towering trees bearing inedible fruit, and a scattering of hardy roots that clung stubbornly to the soil. He painstakingly gathered stones, built a rudimentary fire pit, and coaxed a flame from dried twigs. His first attempts at cooking were clumsy, but each meager dish yielded a sliver of progress.

  [Simple Roasted Root] – EXP +5

  [Grilled Wild Fruit Skewer] – EXP +8

  The experience points trickled in, slow and agonizingly small. Yet, he persisted, fueled by a desperate hope. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the familiar chime of the system echoed in his mind.

  [Level Up! – Level 2]

  2 Attribute Points awarded.

  Without hesitation, he allocated the points, seeking a balance between physical capability and mental acuity. +1 Strength (6)

  +1 Intelligence (6)

  He glanced at his experience bar.

  EXP: 0/200

  The climb had steepened. One hundred experience points for the first level, two hundred for the next. A pattern emerged, a daunting arithmetic of survival. Each level would demand more effort, more time.

  As dusk painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, Klien roasted thin slices of root, basting them with the juice of a sweet, pulpy fruit he had discovered. The caramelized sugar filled the air with a comforting aroma, a stark contrast to the gnawing fear that had been his constant companion. The fire crackled merrily, a small beacon in the encroaching darkness. For the first time since waking on that alien shore, a fragile sense of accomplishment warmed him.

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  Then, the spell was broken. Voices. Rough, unfamiliar voices that cut through the stillness of the evening.

  “Oi, oi! What’s that smell? Smells too damn good for a dump like this!”

  Klien’s heart leaped into his throat. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the thickest branch he could reach, his senses on high alert. He whirled around, his makeshift weapon held defensively.

  Emerging from the shadows were two figures. The first was a young man, shirtless and grinning, his freckled face radiating a carefree confidence. Beads bounced against his chest as he moved. Behind him loomed a more enigmatic presence – a masked figure cloaked in tattered fabric, their features obscured by shadow.

  Ace. And Masked Deuce.

  The names slammed into Klien’s consciousness, a jolt of recognition that sent a shiver down his spine. This island. Sixis Island. The very place where the legendary pirate Portgas D. Ace had taken his first steps on his infamous journey. The realization felt utterly surreal, like stepping into the pages of a well-loved, but dangerous, story.

  Ace’s gaze locked onto the fire, his eyes gleaming with undisguised interest. “You made that?” he asked, gesturing towards the roasting roots.

  “Yeah,” Klien managed, his voice raspy from disuse and nerves. “Been here two days.”

  Deuce, his masked face unreadable, rubbed the back of his neck. “Same. Shipwreck.”

  Ace didn’t hesitate. He strode towards the fire and plucked a skewer from the embers. He took a large bite, and his eyes widened in surprise.

  “Holy crap, this is amazing! You a cook or something?”

  Klien offered a hesitant, crooked grin. “Yeah. Or… was. Back home.”

  Deuce, more cautious, took a small taste and nodded slowly, a hint of approval in his posture.

  Then, another chime, a notification that sent a jolt of excitement through Klien.

  [Special Event: Fed Notorious Pirate – +50 EXP]

  It worked. His bizarre skill, his only means of survival, was effective even in this insane reality. Cooking for these notorious figures, these pirates, could be his path forward. If he could become their chef, earn their respect, maybe even join their crew, his bounty would surely rise. And with it, his desperately needed HP. Survival, it seemed, lay in infamy.

  Ace, oblivious to Klien’s internal calculations, grinned, already reaching for another skewer. “You know, when we get off this rock, we’re forming a crew. Could use a chef with skills like yours.”

  Klien hesitated for only a fleeting moment. Piracy was a far cry from the life he had known, a dangerous path he had never envisioned. But the alternative—alone on this island with a single hit point—was a death sentence. He had no real choice.

  A small smile played on his lips. “I’ll join. On one condition—get me a bounty. I need to be infamous.”

  Ace threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Hah! Deal. I like the way you think!”

  Deuce sighed, a low rumble behind his mask. “Another crazy one…”

  [EXP +50]

  Klien checked his status window, a surge of hope coursing through him.

  Level: 2

  EXP: 100/200

  HP: 1/1

  Bounty: 0 Berries

  Almost halfway to Level 3. The climb was still steep, but now, he had companions, albeit dangerous ones, and a purpose.

  He chuckled softly to himself, the sound mingling with the crackling flames. “A pirate chef… not exactly how I pictured my life. But if it keeps me alive…”

  Under the watchful eyes of the fire and the sweet, lingering scent of caramelized roots, Klien took his first tentative step into the chaotic, unpredictable world of pirates. His survival, it seemed, would be seasoned with danger and notoriety.

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