The Devils Chosen - One Piece

They didn't mean to land here.

They weren't lost.

They were directionally creative.

The original plan? Reach Reverse Mountain. Bold, insane, and completely off-book.

But with no navigator, no map, and enough confidence to capsize a Sea King, they "improvised" their route.

Nox called it instinct.

Voran called it divine wind guidance.

The dockmaster called it "sailing like idiots."

They saw smoke first.

Then rooftops.

Then a crooked little port where the harbor master charged double the standard fee — and tripled it if you had horns or wings.

Lvneel Kingdom.

More specifically — Splitjaw Town.

The kind of place where wanted posters outnumbered houses.

Where "law enforcement" meant whoever shot last and stood longest.

Where Devils could walk in without being the strangest thing in town.

Sun-scorched dirt.

Creaking wooden buildings.

Saloon signs that swung like gallows nooses in the breeze.

Bounty posters slapped against every crooked wall.

A slow wind rolled down the only main road, kicking up dust like gunpowder waiting for a match.

Flip-flops dragged.

Heavy, sand-gritted. Lazy in rhythm but wide in stride.

Like the walk of someone too strong to care who watched.

Nox.

His jet-black curved Oni horns caught the sunlight like devilish crowns.

He wore a short-sleeved black shirt, unbuttoned, patterned with red hibiscus flowers — the breeze catching it like a torn flag.

Black cargo shorts, faded and patched, hung just below his knees.

On his feet: worn-out flip-flops that practically muttered "please stop walking on gravel."

At his side walked Voran — wings furled, katana slung, eyes hard as obsidian.

They stopped in front of a saloon with peeling red paint and a sign that read:

DUST NAIL SALOON

"Food. Drink. Regret."

Nox grinned.

"I like this place already."

Inside, the Dust Nail was low-lit and loud — gamblers cursed, cards flew, and a three-fingered piano player hammered out something half-tuned. The bartender wiped a glass that had definitely seen better decades.

But in the corner, someone sat too still for the chaos.

Hat pulled low.

Spurs dusted from a long ride.

Twin pistols resting on his hips like promises of violence.

The gunman didn't look up when Nox and Voran entered.

Didn't need to.

The second Nox sat down and ordered three plates of ribs, a tower of biscuits, and two whole chickens, the man muttered without looking:

"Tourists."

Voran didn't flinch — just shifted his stance, hand drifting toward his blade.

"Got a problem?"

The gunman finally looked up.

Smirk like dry gunpowder.

Voice aimed straight at Voran.

"Yeah. You. Wings-for-Brains keeps puffin' his chest like he's about to lay an egg."

Voran's eyes narrowed.

"Nice hat, Leadhead. It hiding a brain or just echo in there?"

"Least I got a head. Yours looks like it got slammed in a vault door."

"Says the guy whose aim couldn't hit a Sea Train with a cannon. Dudshot."

"All right, Feather Duster. Keep talking. I got six bullets and time to waste."

"You'll miss."

The table shook slightly.

Nox didn't flinch.

He was chewing through a chicken drumstick like a beast possessed. Another one was already in his other hand.

"You two done flirting, or should I order dessert?"

BANG.

The saloon doors burst open.

Six men in brown dusters and iron badges stomped in, armed and mean.

The leader leveled a sawed-off at the gunman.

"COLT GRAVES! By order of Mayor Flintlock, you're comin' with us. Dead or—"

"SHUT UP!!"

Colt and Voran shouted in perfect sync.

BOOM.

The table exploded into splinters.

Colt's pistols spun into his hands. He dove behind the bar, firing mid-roll as bullets tore the shelves apart.

Voran launched forward with no warning — a blur of wings and steel. One goon barely saw the katana before his rifle split in half.

CRACK. WHUD. SMASH.

Chairs flew. Hats caught fire.

A man was launched clean through the swinging saloon doors.

Someone got smacked with a full keg.

A bottle bounced off Nox's head.

He grabbed it, popped the cork with a finger, and took a swig.

"Can't even eat in peace…"

When the dust settled, the Dust Nail looked like it had hosted a hurricane.

Colt holstered his pistols.

Voran sheathed his blade.

"Stay outta my way, Flintbrain."

"Keep dreaming, Feather Duster."

"Huh. I didn't know tumbleweeds could talk."

They stood, crackling with unfinished tension.

Then Nox cleared his throat.

"So… who's our new drinking buddy?"

The bartender poured Nox a fresh glass, motioned toward Colt.

"Colt Graves. Gunslinger. Local headache. Got a bounty for punching the sheriff. Twice."

Colt adjusted his hat.

"He ain't a sheriff. Just another thief with a badge and a payroll. And tonight? He's gettin' fired."

He flicked a bullet into the air, caught it, and turned for the door.

"I'll handle that part. Try not to burn the place down before I get back."

He vanished in a trail of grit and broken glass.

The bartender leaned in, set a fresh glass in front of Nox.

"If you're really here to cause trouble, Devil-boy… you picked the right town."

Nox wiped his mouth with his sleeve, still eyeing the door Colt had vanished through."What's his deal? Kinda like him. Gun's faster than his mouth — barely."

"Kid's got blood in his eyes. His little sister — she's all he's got left."

He poured himself a shot.

"Couple days ago, a Tenryūbito passed through. Barely here an hour. Long enough to see Colt's sister. Long enough to want her."

Nox paused mid-chew.

"A what now?"

The bartender blinked.

"You serious?"

"Yeah. What the hell's a Tenryūbito?"

Voran's eyes narrowed. Even he didn't look comfortable.

The bartender leaned closer, voice dropping low.

"They're Celestial Dragons. Nobles of the World Government. Untouchable. Unreachable. You don't speak to them. You don't even breathe near them."

"They wear glass bubbles on their heads so they don't have to breathe the same air as the rest of us. Ride slaves through town like parades. Toss coins at kings like pets."

He downed the shot.

"If they want your daughter, your son, your sister — you hand them over. Because if you say no…"

He tapped the bar with a finger.

"Boom. Buster Call. A Marine fleet shows up with warships, a Vice Admiral, and sometimes even an Admiral. They don't negotiate. They erase."

Nox set his food down.

Slowly. Deliberately.

The bartender's voice lowered further.

"After the Tenryūbito left, the order came down from the king himself. Passed it to Mayor Flintlock. He took her."

"She's being held in Flintlock's mansion. Guarded, watched — like a prize getting boxed for shipping."

Voran's jaw tightened.

"They're waiting for a Marine escort?"

"Yeah. Ship's already en route. Should be here by tomorrow. Maybe sooner."

Nox stood up, the bottle still in his hand.

No grin this time.

"I hate them already."

Voran cracked his knuckles.

"We're not letting him fight alone."

The bartender poured one last drink.

"Sundown's in an hour. Better get a front-row seat."

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Nox's Character Stats (End of Chapter 10)

[Name:] Wil D. Nox

[Race:] Oni

[Level:] 10

[Status:] Stable

[Memory:] Locked

[EXP:] 0 / 400 [░░░░░░░░░░]

[STATS]

STR: 29

AGI: 19

STA: 27

INT: 12

AWR: 17

WILL: 29

[ABILITY POINTS AVAILABLE:] 0

[TRAITS]

Onihada (鬼肌) – Lv.3

→ Physical damage resistance: 20%

→ Blunt trauma resistance: Increased

→ Mild regeneration: Non-fatal wounds only

[SKILL TREE]

HAKI BRANCH

Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation) — Locked

Busoshoku Haki (Armament) — Unlocked ✅

→ Current Level: 1

→ Ability: Hardening

→ Duration: 10 seconds max

→ Coverage: Partial (fists only)

→ Growth: Requires training and repeated battle use

DEVIL FRUIT BRANCH

Status: Inactive

Access Denied – No Devil Fruit Acquired

??? — Connection pending…

NAVIGATION BRANCH

Basic Seamanship — Unlocked

→ Navigation EXP: 1 / ???

→ Unlock Progress: [▓░░░░░░░░░░]

[CREW]

→ Name: Not Set

→ Members: — Voran

→ Passive Effect: +1 All Stats (While Partied)