Douluo: I can upgrade my luck by traveling through One Piece

As night falls, the lights of the Chabaodi Archipelago gradually light up, like stars, reflecting the ocean, as if the stars in the sky are gently swaying on the water.

These lights, either flickering from fishing boats or from the homes of villagers, interweave into a beautiful picture.

The waves gently hit the shore, making a low and rhythmic sound, as if playing a melodious movement for this quiet night.

The moonlight sprinkled on the sparkling sea, flashing a silver glow, as if covering this land with a mysterious veil, making people intoxicated.

In the center of the archipelago, on the central island.

The people in the village have finished a busy day, walked out of their homes one after another, and gathered in the square at the entrance of the village.

The air is filled with the aroma of seafood, and several fishermen are preparing dinner with fresh fish and shrimps they have just caught. Laughter and conversation are intertwined, warm and cordial.

At this time, the fishing village seems to be a big family, with no barriers between each other, only a strong sense of nostalgia.

The old lady in the village sat at the door, waving a palm-leaf fan in her hand, looking at these young people gently with a kind smile on her face. Her face was full of traces of time, and every wrinkle told her story.

She was once the most beautiful girl in the village. When she was young, she danced with her beloved in the square, and her laughter echoed in the night sky.

Now, although the years have left a deep mark on her, her heart still retains the passion of youth.

She often thinks of those passionate years at night, and her heart is full of warmth and nostalgia.

In the embrace of the ocean, this quiet island was once a paradise that people yearned for. The sun shone on the golden beach, and the waves gently beat the shore, as if whispering the tenderness of the years.

However, the former tranquility was torn apart by a tragic war. The sky became dim under the baptism of war, and the waves of the ocean seemed to mourn for innocent lives, telling those unspeakable sorrows.

The shadow of war looms over this land, and young faces disappear in the battle, leaving only pain and loneliness.

Every child who once laughed in the sun has now become a brave soldier on the battlefield. Facing the ruthless artillery fire and bloody battles, their hearts are filled with confusion and fear about the future.

Those dreams and hopes were ruthlessly swallowed up in the smoke.

On this quiet night, the young fisherman Amin is sitting around a wooden table in the square with his friends.

His hands are covered with sea water and fishy smell, but his face is full of a bright smile.

Although he lost his closest friends in the battle, he still chose to take root in this land and continue to pursue his own dreams.

"Tonight's fish and shrimp are very fresh, let's share them together!"

Amin said excitedly, with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. His voice is as gentle as the waves, conveying a power of rebirth.

And Lily, Amin's childhood sweetheart, is watching him quietly.

She has both admiration for Amin and a hint of worry in her heart.

Lily's father disappeared in the war and has not been heard from since.

Although she tried to smile and hide her inner loss, the fear of the unknown still lingered in her heart.

She sighed softly and made up her mind to stay strong for her father's return.

Just then, a burst of laughter came from the other end of the square. Several children were playing and chasing the footsteps of the sea breeze.

Their laughter was like a crisp bell, like a carefree melody, gently plucking the heartstrings of every passerby.

The sun cast mottled light and shadow through the gaps in the leaves, and the children shuttled through the light and shadow, as if the vivid picture brought people back to the carefree time before the war.

At that time, on the beach by the sea, you could always see a group of children chasing and playing, and laughter rippled in the air, as if even the waves were cheering for their happiness.

The old lady sat in a corner of the square, staring at this scene intently, and a warm feeling surged in her heart.

Her thoughts surged like a tide, as if she had returned to those carefree days.

She remembered the figure of herself running on the beach with her friends when she was young, the sun shining on their faces, the sea breeze blowing gently, bringing the salty smell of the sea and endless laughter.

At that time, they always sprinkled the sand in their hands on the sea, letting the waves sweep them away, and it seemed that even the troubles disappeared with the sand.

The corners of the old lady's eyes were slightly moist, but the smile on the corners of her mouth became brighter, as if the passage of time did not take away the innocence and hope in her heart.

"Children, come here, grandma will tell you a story!"

The old lady's voice was as gentle as the waves, carrying the weight and warmth of the years, gently brushing the children's hearts and attracting their attention.

The children sat around her, with expectant light in their eyes, as if every word she said was the treasure they longed for in their hearts.

In this small fishing village, stories are not only inheritance, but also hope and faith in life.

The old lady's voice floated in the night sky, as if telling the joys and sorrows of the past.

At this moment, there was a shaking sound suddenly from the island, as if the earth was shaking and the waves were surging.

The sound was slight at first, like a whisper from afar, but gradually it became clearer, as if a giant beast turned over in its sleep and let out a low roar.

There was a tense atmosphere in the air, and the surrounding plants seemed to feel this force, trembling slightly, and the leaves rustled in the wind, as if whispering, conveying some ominous premonition.

The old lady was quietly weaving a fishing net in front of the hut, her fingers were deft and steady, as if racing against time.

The sun shone through the treetops and sprinkled on her silver-white hair, reflecting a layer of warm brilliance, as if coating her years with a golden halo.

Her face was covered with traces of time, and the deep wrinkles seemed to record the story of her life, full of countless joys, sorrows, anger and happiness.

At this moment, she felt vaguely uneasy in her heart, as if something bad was about to happen.

Suddenly, a huge figure appeared in the field of vision.

Like a moving mountain, the four-meter-tall giant Quesanti came with a clattering sound. His footsteps were like thunder, shaking the surrounding rocks slightly.

Quesanti's face was ferocious and mighty, and his thick eyebrows were like two black clouds, covering his eyes that flashed with anger.

At this moment, his figure rushed straight towards the old lady, as if he wanted to swallow her in one bite, like an out-of-control medium tank, with a destructive momentum.

The old lady's heart sank suddenly, her hands trembled, and the woven fishing net almost fell.

Suddenly, a huge yin-yang fish fell from the sky and blocked Quesanti.

The fish exuded a mysterious light, as if it had spirituality, and spread its fin-like wings, as if protecting the old lady.

"Quesanti, are you rushing over here to hurt Grandma Wenla?"

A young man walked out from behind the yin-yang fish, his voice clear and firm, with a hint of anger and indomitable spirit.

The boy's name was Al, about seventeen years old, thin, but his eyes showed fearless courage.

His black hair was flying in the wind, and his face was full of determination.

Quesanti stopped and swept his angry eyes over Al, as if wondering why the boy dared to offend him.

Al's heartbeat accelerated. Facing this giant, his heart was actually full of fear, but he knew that he could not retreat and could not let the old lady get hurt.

The old lady was on the side, full of comfort for Al. She knew that this child had been brave and fearless since he was a child, and he always had a persistence for justice in his heart.

Quesanti stood in front of Grandma Wenla's hut, lowering his head slightly, and his expression looked a little depressed.

The sun shone on him through the gaps in the leaves, and golden spots of light jumped on his tender face, but at this moment he was not in the mood to enjoy the warm sunshine.

The admiration and desire for Grandma Wenla in his heart gradually became heavy with the indifference of the grandma.

His voice was so low that it was almost inaudible: "Quisanti didn't want to hurt Grandma Wenla!"

There was a faint light in his eyes, like stars blown away by the wind, trying to prove his innocence.

Quisanti clenched his fists tightly, his nails deeply embedded in his palms, and his heart was full of grievances and uneasiness.

Grandma Wenla is a famous storyteller in the village. Each of her stories is like magic, which can bring the audience into a fantasy world.

Quisanti has liked to be around her since he was a child, listening to her stories about warriors, magic and adventures, and his heart is full of longing for the unknown world.

"Quisanti also wants to listen to Grandma Wenla's stories!"

He raised his head with a firm look. Although he was still a little scared in his heart, he knew that he had to face it bravely.

Quisanti's voice gradually rose, with a hint of pleading and expectation, as if he wanted to convey his desire to Grandma Wenla.

However, there was no softness on Grandma Wenla's face.

Her wrinkles appeared deeper in the sun, as if the traces of those years had engraved countless stories on her face.

She sighed slightly, with a hint of disappointment in her eyes, as if she was looking at a child who once made her happy, but now made her feel helpless.

Her voice was low and firm: "Quisanti, you know, stories can't be told casually."

Quisanti's heart sank suddenly, as if it was pressed by an invisible heavy stone.

Countless moments with Grandma Wenla flashed through his mind, those warm stories, those laughter, as if they were right in front of him.

However, at this moment, he felt extremely lonely.

The grievances and uneasiness in his heart were intertwined, like a boat in a storm, swaying unsteadily.

"Okay, Al, Quisanti didn't mean it."

Venla's voice was gentle and firm, like a spring breeze, gently soothing Al's tense heartstrings.

"Right, Quisanti?"

She turned her head and her eyes fell on the burly soul master.

Quisanti's shoulders were broad, giving people a strong sense of security, but the expression on his face at this moment was a little uneasy.

Venla smiled slightly, trying to relieve his inner pressure.

Al's face was still gloomy, and he was filled with dissatisfaction.

He had just been bumped by Quesanti, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of grievance.

Although he knew Quesanti had no ill intentions, he was inevitably a little unhappy to be bumped by such a strong man.

Al's eyes showed a hint of doubt and unwillingness, as if he was questioning: "Am I so insignificant?"

At this time, Quesanti looked guilty. He lowered his head slightly, and his fingers unconsciously drew circles on the ground, as if thinking about how to express his apology.

His voice was low and slow: "Sorry, Wenla, I didn't mean it. I just didn't notice you for a moment."

After saying that, a trace of uneasiness flashed in his eyes, as if he felt deeply guilty about his mistake just now.

Venla noticed the change in Quesanti's mood, and a warm feeling surged in her heart.

She knew that although Quesanti looked strong, he was a gentle person in his heart.

She patted Al's shoulder gently, motioning him to calm down, then turned to Quesanti and smiled slightly: "It's okay, Quesanti, I know you are a good person. Just be more careful next time."

Al's mood calmed down a little, but he still pouted his lips in dissatisfaction, thinking to himself: "I don't need others to speak for me."

However, Wenla's gentleness and understanding made him feel a little warm, as if he saw a faint light in the darkness.

Quesanti looked up and saw Wenla's smile, and he was moved. He couldn't help but think of his hard journey on the road of soul master. He had been misunderstood and even rejected because of his burly body. Now, he can't help but feel a warm current in his heart when he has friends who understand him.

Quesanti stood on the high platform of the academy, and the breeze gently brushed his face, bringing a hint of coolness.

There was a warm flame burning in his heart, which was the support and trust from Wenla.

At this moment, his voice was firm and powerful, as if he was announcing his determination to the whole world.

"Thank you, Wenla."

He took a deep breath, and his eyes flashed with gratitude, like stars shining in the night sky.

"I will be more careful and won't let you get hurt again."

Wenla stood aside and smiled slightly. There was a trace of relief in her eyes, and she felt proud in her heart.

Quesanti's growth gave her hope. She knew that this once somewhat immature boy was now transforming into a real strong man.

She nodded gently, silently praying in her heart that Quesanti could continue to improve in the future challenges and no longer be troubled by the shadows of the past.

Zefa stood on the other side of the platform, looking down at the academy square below, and couldn't help feeling a lot of emotions in his heart.

In the square, the students were undergoing intense training, and the figures of the strong men were shining in the sun, as if it was a grand performance.

His eyes swept over the young people who were sweating profusely, and he thought to himself: "If I'm not mistaken, your teachers here are basically strong men comparable to the brigadier general level, right?"

There was a hint of surprise in his tone. (End of this chapter)