One piece: tides of fate

The salty breeze carried the scent of the open sea, mixed with the distinct staleness of old wood and sweat. The Storm Serpents were not a large pirate crew, but the ship itself was sturdy—a mid-sized brig with black sails that rippled under the forceful wind.

Ome stood near the railing, arms aching from his earlier workout. His breathing had steadied, but his mind was still processing everything.

The Fatebound System was real. He could grow stronger by setting his own challenges.

That changed everything.

But first—he had to survive.

A pirate ship was no place for someone weak, and the crew was already watching him.

---

The Crew's Suspicion

A burly man with tanned skin and a messy beard leaned against a stack of barrels, arms crossed. His eyes narrowed as he looked Ome up and down.

"So, what's your deal, kid?" the man grunted. "You fall off some noble's ship or somethin'?"

Ome met his gaze but remained silent for a moment. He needed to choose his words carefully.

"I don't remember," he said honestly.

Some of the crew scoffed. Others seemed more interested.

The bearded man snorted. "Convenient."

Dante Voss, the captain, watched from the helm, his arms crossed. He seemed more entertained than concerned.

"Well," Dante said, stepping forward, "it doesn't matter where you came from. What matters is whether you're worth keeping."

Ome's grip on the railing tightened.

This was inevitable.

Pirates didn't take in dead weight.

And that meant a test.

---

The Challenge

Dante turned to the bearded man. "Kieran, why don't you test him?"

Kieran grinned. "With pleasure."

Ome kept his face neutral, but inside, his mind was racing.

Kieran was big—easily over six feet tall and built like a brawler. His arms were thick, his hands calloused from years of work.

A single hit from someone like that could break bones.

Dante smirked. "We'll keep it simple. One minute. If you can last without collapsing, you stay. If you go down too fast…"

He let the implication hang.

Ome took a slow breath. His heart pounded, but he didn't let it show.

"I need to use my advantages."

Speed. Reflexes. Those were his best stats right now. He couldn't trade blows—he had to dodge.

Kieran cracked his knuckles, stepping forward.

The rest of the crew gathered around, forming a loose circle. Some laughed, others whispered bets.

Ome ignored them. His focus was on Kieran.

The moment Dante called "Start!"

Kieran lunged.

---

The Fight Begins

The punch was fast for someone so big. A straight, no-nonsense strike aimed right for Ome's face.

But his body moved on instinct.

He sidestepped. The punch missed by an inch, Kieran's fist whistling through the air.

Ome felt the wind pressure and knew—if that landed, he'd be done.

Kieran's eyes widened slightly but quickly recovered. He swung again, this time a wide hook.

Ome ducked under it. His body felt light, precise. His C+ reflexes were making a difference.

A murmur spread through the crew.

"Fast little bastard, huh?"

Kieran grinned. He wasn't mad—he was excited.

"Alright, let's see how long you can run."

He charged.

Ome dodged left. Then right. Each movement was sharp, precise—but his stamina was draining fast.

Thirty seconds left.

Kieran faked a right hook and then kicked.

Ome barely had time to react. He twisted his body, avoiding most of the impact, but the force still clipped his ribs.

Pain shot through his side. He stumbled slightly.

Kieran pressed forward. Another punch. Another dodge. Ome's muscles burned. His speed was keeping him alive, but he was running out of space to retreat.

Fifteen seconds left.

Kieran grunted. "You're quick, but you're still weak."

Ten seconds.

Ome's breath was ragged.

Five.

Kieran threw a final, full-force punch.

Ome dropped to the ground, letting it sail over him.

Dante's voice rang out.

"Time's up."

---

The Aftermath

Ome remained crouched for a moment, his body aching. But he had lasted.

The crew was silent for a beat. Then, laughter and murmurs broke out.

"Didn't land a hit, but he lasted."

"Not bad, kid."

Dante smirked, stepping forward. "Congratulations, Ome. Looks like you've earned yourself a spot—for now."

Kieran rolled his shoulders, smirking. "Not bad. But if you want to survive out here, you'll need a lot more than just dodging."

Ome already knew that.

This world wasn't forgiving. If he stayed weak, he'd die.

But he wasn't planning to stay weak.

He had a system.

And he was going to use it.

---

A New Mission

As the crew dispersed, Ome sat against the railing, clutching his sore ribs.

He opened the mission function.

[New Mission Created]

Mission: Land a clean hit in a sparring match.

Difficulty Rating: D+

Reward: +0.2 Strength, +0.1 Fighting Instinct

Ome exhaled. It was possible.

If he kept setting goals, kept pushing himself—

He would climb.

For now, he had a place on this ship. But his journey was just beginning.

One day, he would stand on his own.

And when that day came—he would be ready.

---

End of Chapter 3