Fourteen years ago, I sinned.
I ignored screams for help and let innocent people die in flames. It must've been bad karma, because the minute I ran out of the burning apartment building—bam, I got hit by a truck. Yes. A truck.
But instead of dying and going to hell like the coward I was, I got reincarnated.
Yep. Me. Reincarnated.
This time, I was born as the son of a blacksmith. At first, I vowed to dedicate my new life to helping people, to atone for my sins. But that didn't last long. Because the moment I heard my name—Draken D. Sigurd—I froze.
That name… that middle initial. I was in One Piece.
The terrifying, chaotic world of One Piece, where there are a thousand different ways to die before breakfast.
And it didn't help that I had no talents.
As I grew up, it became painfully clear—I had no affinity for anything. No strength, no speed, no special powers.
The only good thing? My looks.
Not easy to keep a low profile when you've got snow-white hair and eyes like polished sapphires. People in the village quickly came to know me as "the handsome weak son of the blacksmith."
So I made a decision.
If I was going to survive in this world, I'd live as a civilian. Quiet. Harmless. Cowardly.
Just like before.
For fourteen years, that plan worked.
I helped my father in the forge, kept my head down, and avoided anything that smelled like danger. Pirates? Marines? Bounty hunters? I stayed far away. When bandits passed through the village, I hid under the counter. When my father offered to teach me how to use a sword, I faked a stomach ache. Every. Single. Time.
He never forced me. He just smiled sadly, as if he knew I was carrying something heavier than I let on.
Then, one morning… it all shattered.
It started with smoke on the horizon.
At first, I thought it was just a brush fire in the forest. But then came the screaming. Then the gunshots. Then the chaos.
Pirates.
Dozens of them. Loud, drunk, brutal. They poured into the village, laughing as they burned shops, looted homes, and dragged people into the streets. My legs froze. My breath caught in my throat.
I stood outside the forge, hammer still in my hand from shaping a plow blade.
Then I saw my father.
Charging into the fray with nothing but a heavy iron bar, yelling at villagers to get to safety. Swinging at pirates twice his size without hesitation.
And what did I do?
I dropped the hammer…
…and I ran.
My feet carried me toward the woods. I didn't look back. I didn't want to.
Because I already knew what I'd see—my father, fighting alone.
Because that's what cowards do. We run.
I don't know how long I ran.
Branches tore at my face. The pounding in my chest was louder than the screams behind me. I stumbled, fell, got back up. My lungs burned.
I told myself it was the smart move. That I couldn't help anyone. That I wasn't strong enough.
That I wasn't supposed to be a hero.
Then I heard it.
A child's cry.
Sharp. Panicked. Close.
I stopped.
No.
I should keep running. It wasn't my problem. I was useless. Weak. I couldn't—
The cry came again.
I turned.
Through the trees, I saw a boy — no older than six — crouched over a woman lying on the ground. His mother, probably. Her leg was twisted at a horrible angle, blood pooling beneath her.
And above them, walking slowly with a crooked grin, was a pirate holding an axe.
I froze.
My body screamed run.
But something else... something deeper... screamed move.
My fists clenched. My breath caught.
I saw fire again — not the village, but the apartment.
The people I left behind.
My father, yelling for people to run while I escaped with nothing but my life.
And now, again… I was about to let someone die.
I stepped forward. Just one step.
Then another.
My heart roared louder than my fear.
Before I knew it, I was charging out of the brush, eyes wide, no plan, no weapon — just instinct.
> "HEY!"
The pirate turned.
And I punched him.
Not hard. Not well. But with everything I had.
He stumbled back and tripped over a root, falling with a grunt.
I stood between him and the boy, hands shaking, knees ready to collapse.
And then—
Ding.
Host finally eligible for system.
Integrating... 40%... 80%...
Processing complete.
After years of cowardice, you finally acted against your fear.
[Hero System Activated]
[Hero System Status Window]
Name: Draken D. Sigurd
Age: 14
Attribute Value
Strength 5
Agility 5
Durability 5
Intelligence 5
Spirit 2
Charm 30
Skills: None
Points: 0
[Gacha Roll Available]
Tip: Host earns points by saving people.
+100 Points per person saved.
Ding!
You saved 1 person!
+100 Points earned.
I stared at the glowing screen floating in front of me, its light shimmering faintly in the smoky air. For a moment, I thought I'd finally lost it. Maybe the stress had broken something in my brain. Maybe this was just my guilt trying to comfort me before I died.
But no… it was real.
It was finally real.
After fourteen years in this world—
Fourteen years of hiding.
Of running.
Of failing again and again—
The system… chose now?
I let out a laugh. A shaky, hollow sound. Half relief, half madness.
"Seriously? Now you show up?"
I looked down at my trembling hands. The same hands that once slammed a door shut while people screamed on the other side. The same hands that today had tried to abandon my father. My village.
The same hands that just threw a punch — however pathetic — for someone else.
My throat tightened.
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them away.
[Hero System Activated]
For the first time in two lives, I'd done something brave.
No…
For the first time in two lives—
I hadn't run.