The One Piece

Peter's Perspective

*"I'm sorry, Santiago...

May your soul rest in peace, my brother.

Though I only knew you for a short time, I now consider you as a brother. I hope that one day, somewhere, you'll find peace…

But…!!

Why do I feel this strange sensation… I feel no hatred toward anyone,

and no fear at all. It's as if I've lost all feelings of weakness.

I feel that, no matter the end of this madness I find myself in, I can only accept it…

Yes, this is reality.

No one is at fault…

And there's nothing we can do…

Because this world is cruel in every way."*

---

Peter sat calmly on a wooden bench in the cart descending slowly down the massive cliff.

Around him were a few soldiers in uniform, some workers, and traders, all staring at him curiously. His clothes were torn, stained with faint blood spots, yet Peter seemed unfazed by their gazes, his eyes watching something far beyond.

As the towering cliff slowly revealed itself around him, he thought about the slaves living in this wretched world. People who were innocent, trapped by cruelty and greed.

The image of Santiago, the man who died in his arms, remained etched in his memory, like an unspoken promise of revenge.

His dream was now clear before him: when the time came, he would work to free these innocent people, to rescue them from this hell, no matter the cost. But he knew now was not the time to act… It was time to plan, to search for a way out.

As the cart continued its winding path, strange memories began to creep into his mind… Memories of the person he had become.

He saw himself in the past – or rather, in the past of the character he was embodying – a man who was different from the other Celestial Dragons.

A man who showed compassion unknown to slaves. He treated them kindly, sometimes even attending to their pains. These memories made Peter smile gently. Even among the filth of humanity, there was a faint light of mercy…

When the cart reached the bottom of the giant cliff, it stopped with a violent thud. The door creaked open, and everyone rushed out amid a clamor of voices.

Workers hurriedly carried crates of food and large containers, transferring them from the crates to vehicles that transported them back up the cliff, while soldiers dispersed, marching in organized formations, their eyes scanning the area carefully.

Peter slipped among the crowd, moving like a shadow, unnoticed by anyone. He looked away from everything around him; he didn't care about what they were carrying or what orders were exchanged.

All he cared about was reaching the port, where rows of warships and merchant vessels lined up, some leaving, others arriving laden with goods or soldiers.

At the dock, Peter quickly moved between the orderly rows of ships moored around him, but he wasn't alone.

Behind him, he heard the voice of the Vice Admiral yelling from afar, shouting orders for the soldiers to search every corner:

"Search everywhere! That scoundrel won't escape punishment!" His words filled the air with rage as soldiers hurried back and forth, their eyes scanning every nook and cranny.

But Peter knew he didn't have much time to escape. Swiftly, he plunged into the cold water, leaving behind all the noise and the soldiers' voices.

He dived beneath the surface, in the shadows of the anchored ships, and began swimming silently. Inside, he was grateful to the system that made him able to swim, as he had no Devil Fruit powers that would have drowned him now.

He slipped between the ship's hull and its beams, taking a quick breath before continuing to swim out of sight.

Above the surface, he could hear the soldiers' shouts as they searched for him in vain. The Vice Admiral stood on the edge of the dock, his face twisted in anger,

yelling at the soldiers around him: "I won't let that scoundrel escape so easily! No one will insult me and get away with it!" But Peter had already begun his journey, swimming behind the anchored ships, looking for a departing vessel he could stow away on.

Amid the calm waters, Peter's eyes caught sight of a massive ship towering over the other anchored vessels. Its flags and emblem were unmistakable;

it was the legendary Vice Admiral Garp's ship, unchanged over the years, with its massive, sturdy frame and the brave dog emblem at its bow, the proud symbol of the Marines and Garp's personal crest.

The ship struck fear into anyone who saw it, with its side cannons and a crew that always appeared ready for battle.

In that moment, Peter was filled with a sense of hope, but he was also cautious. Garp only came to Mary Geoise for important matters, which meant he wouldn't stay here long.

Peter realized the opportunity before him was slim, but perfect. He took a deep breath and swam through the water swiftly toward the ship, using all his energy to get closer.

With quick, steady breaths, Peter reached the ship and grabbed hold of one of the ropes hanging from its side, then climbed slowly and carefully, avoiding any movement that might draw attention.

The ship's crew was busy preparing for departure, each soldier in position, moving quickly across the deck in readiness. Peter slipped through them, blending like a shadow in the night, taking advantage of their complete focus on preparations.

Soon, he found himself in front of a slightly open cabin, inside which a few soldiers were changing into their uniforms for the voyage. Peter didn't hesitate and entered quietly when the room was momentarily empty.

There, he looked at his torn clothing, finally feeling the beginning of liberation from his former identity.

He quickly removed his tattered clothes and grabbed a Marine uniform to wear. The outfit wasn't fancy or unique, but it was enough to disguise him.

When he was done, he looked at himself and smiled with relief; Peter, the fugitive, had vanished, replaced by another soldier among the crew.

Peter left the room in his new attire, only to be greeted by a loud, familiar voice, the kind of voice no one who had ever met him could forget: it was Garp's hearty, distinctive laugh! Peter paused for a moment, nervous yet excited, watching Garp as he boarded the ship, brimming with enthusiasm, shouting in a booming voice:

"Alright, men, prepare yourselves! We're leaving this filthy place, ha ha ha ha ha!"

Peter couldn't help but smile a little; it was clear Garp was the same man he'd seen before – an honest soldier unaffected by the Celestial Dragons or their authority.

However, he had to pretend to be an ordinary soldier, so he joined the crew ranks, giving a quick salute.

The ship began to sail away from the Red Line, gradually moving farther from the Celestial Dragons' domain. Peter stood on deck, joining the crew in everything, moving crates, helping hoist the sails, sharing jokes and laughter with them.

The ship itself radiated a warm life, entirely different from his previous place; it reflected Garp's humble spirit, who treated his men as true friends, not just soldiers under his command, just as he'd seen in the manga and anime back in his world.

Garp stood in the middle of the ship, laughing loudly at every joke the soldiers told, as if nothing else in the world mattered but these simple moments.

Peter was deeply moved, seeing a leader who took pride in his friends and treated them with dignity, just as he'd always wished to be.

After they'd finished the ship's tasks, Garp invited everyone to eat, gathering the crew around a large table in the ship's kitchen.

Peter sat among them, watching the soldiers devouring their food with gusto, exchanging jokes and singing old songs of their adventures.

Peter smiled, feeling for the first time since arriving in this world that he was finally in a place that held the spirit of friendship and humanity he'd always longed for.

Peter stood at the ship's side, gazing out at the endless expanse of the blue sea, the sea that had always been a dream for anyone seeking freedom and escape from bondage.

The waves danced beneath the sunlight, and the sounds of the breeze embraced his ears gently, caressing his dark hair, filling him with a deep sense of peace and serenity.

For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt a freedom he'd never known before, as if this vast sea was freeing his soul from all the chains that had been chasing him.

As he enjoyed this moment, he remembered an old quote he'd once read in his previous world:

"Man is born free and is everywhere in chains. Those who think themselves masters of others are indeed the greatest of slaves."

(...)