ONE PIECE: Lone Sails

May 22, 1501, Haiyuan Calendar

Starfish Island, Deep within the Orchard of the Carnegie Family

A week had passed since Noah's rescue, and he now stood in the secluded depths of his uncle Joseph's orchard. The house perched on the town's edge, its back nestled against a forested hillside. A scattering of neighboring homes lay one or two hundred meters away, but the fruit trees, encircled by rolling hills, offered a hidden sanctuary.

Thud, thud, thud... Noah's fists hammered a massive wooden log, each strike landing like relentless raindrops. The force of his barrage drove the wood deeper into the soil, inch by stubborn inch.

After a week of recovery and reflection, Noah had devised a rigorous plan to hone his body and master the Card Fruit. His training was methodical, a blend of physical discipline and mental fortitude, designed to forge him into something greater.

Training Regimen 6:00 AM: Rise, eat breakfast, and push a boulder up and down the mountain—a ten-kilometer trek to be completed within two hours. He began modestly, selecting a thirty-kilogram stone as his burden.

9:00 AM - 11:00 AM: Wood-punching drills, pummeling the log until his knuckles ached and his stamina waned.

11:00 AM: Lunch and rest.

12:00 PM - 2:00 PM: Retreat to a hidden cabin in the orchard. There, he practiced calligraphy, adapting Five Volumes of Dragon Slaying into the local tongue while singing No Savior. The song's defiant lyrics became a mantra, a psychological anchor to steel his resolve.

2:00 PM - 4:00 PM: Blindfolded, he endured Joshua's bamboo pole strikes, a grueling exercise to awaken his latent Observation Haki.

4:00 PM - 6:00 PM: Craft equipment in the cabin—tools and contraptions to aid his survival and training.

6:00 PM - 10:00 PM: Study, read, and develop the Card Fruit's potential, pushing its limits with each experiment.

To sustain himself, he planned weekly fishing trips, even preparing to hunt sea beasts. The Card Fruit's versatility would make these ventures both feasible and fruitful.

For Devil Fruit training, Noah sought to refine his arsenal. Beyond upgrading to metal cards, he aimed to expand the spatial capacity of each card, stretching the boundaries of what he could seal and wield.

Six Months Later

From within the orchard's small wooden cabin, a voice rose, fervent and clear, cutting through the stillness:

"…There has never been a savior…"

"…Nor do we rely on immortal emperors…"

Noah sang as he wrote, his pen dancing across the pages of an adapted, localized Five Volumes of Dragon Slaying. The words flowed with purpose, a testament to his growing intellect and determination.

Footsteps crunched outside, interrupting his rhythm. He set down his pen as the door swung open, revealing Joshua. In the past six months, his cousin had transformed—now standing nearly 1.8 meters tall, his frame had filled out with lean muscle, a mirror to Noah's own progress.

Noah hadn't spent the half-year solely in isolation. Weekly fishing expeditions, bolstered by the Card Fruit, had yielded a bounty of sea beasts. Smaller catches were sold to support the family and fund supplies, while larger ones were sealed in cards, providing a steady supply of meat. This abundance had fueled both their growth, though Noah's rigorous oversight ensured Joshua trained alongside him.

"Brother, here's the newspaper you wanted," Joshua said, handing over a stack of publications.

Noah sifted through them—Rogge Town Daily, East Sea Times, World Economic News—each page a window into the world beyond Starfish Island. He read with intent, extracting key details and jotting notes:

[1501.09.14]: Rogge Town Marine recruits new members; rising star Smoker is exceptionally recommended to Marine headquarters. Noah cross-referenced this with his past-life memories, deducing Smoker's potential and the significance of his rapid ascent.

[1501.10.22]: Flame Pirates annihilated in Canoba waters by Marine hero. 'Flame Man' Bass, defeated by an iron fist, fell into the sea and was devoured by beasts. The Burn-Burn Fruit, then, was now adrift, awaiting its next bearer.

Public news held hidden value, and Noah had amassed over seven hundred pages of such analysis. His understanding of the East China Sea's currents—both literal and political—had deepened into something formidable.

Finished, he sealed the latest excerpts into a [Secret Card—Library], a repository of knowledge he guarded closely. Joshua, meanwhile, picked up the first volume of Five Volumes of Dragon Slaying and settled into a wooden chair, flipping through it with admiration.

"Brother, you're incredible. Writing a book like this—it's amazing."

"I'm just standing on the shoulders of giants," Noah replied modestly, his eyes still on the newspaper.

"By the way, I finished the investigation you asked for," Joshua added.

Noah glanced up. "Go ahead."

"Our town has 1,376 households, with a population of 6,855. There are 273 orphans, 32 of whom have no relatives to care for them."

"Good work. Anything else?"

"Yes, I broke down their ages. Eight are under twelve—three girls and five boys."

Noah nodded, pleased. "Well done, Joshua. Now, I have a new task. Tomorrow, invite those eight orphans here for a barbecue. Keep it discreet—don't draw attention."

"Leave it to me," Joshua said confidently.

Noah returned to his reading, his mind already turning. In this world, he felt a profound solitude. Though he had family, he longed for companions who shared his vision, his language of thought. The pirate world teemed with ignorance, and true kindred spirits were rare. If he couldn't find them, he would forge them himself. Recruiting orphans was his first step toward building a network of like-minded allies.

The Next Day, Dawn

Joshua slipped out at first light, returning over an hour later with eight children in tow. They gathered in the orchard cabin, where Noah had prepared an iron grill laden with sizzling steaks. The children hesitated, their eyes wary yet curious, but Noah greeted them warmly.

"Welcome to my home," he said with a smile. "Let's get to know each other while we cook!"

He handed small brushes to the three girls. "I'm Carnegie Noah, thirteen years old. Help me brush on the barbecue sauce, will you?"

A girl with long, light blonde hair stepped forward, her face dotted with freckles and flushed with shy excitement. "Hello, Brother Noah. I'm Lilith, eleven years old." Her rough, pale hands—worn from washing clothes for the town's fishermen—trembled slightly as she took the brush.

Another girl peeked from behind Lilith, whispering, "I... I'm Lillian, eight years old."

The third girl grinned as she slathered sauce onto the meat. "Hi, Brother Noah! I'm Mary—Green Mary. I'm nine this year."

As they worked together, the orchard filled with the aroma of grilling meat and the murmur of tentative camaraderie. It was a fragile but promising beginning to Noah's vision.