Chapter Text
Technoblade was a title he had taken many, many years ago, back when he first had taken up the entertainment business on a little not-so-well known platform that he doubts you’ve heard of. Out of respect for the loved ones left behind however, he will refrain from using the name assigned to him from birth, and will instead refer to himself only as the name he adorned to bring joy to others, the name that gave him power to inspire, and the name that struck fear into those who dared to cross him and his ambitions. Besides, he had promised that he would, though that promise was conveyed through his father, along with his final sellout plug of merch.
You might be wondering why we are gathered here today, and the answer is simple. Technoblade was reincarnated. Not only does he get the opportunity to become a cliché isekai protagonist, he gets a second chance to sellout .
Now, before you get to take in what he knows about this, we will need to take a step back and review what we know about the current situation. Be warned that this origin story will be in a sort of a very long speedrun format, as Technoblade has more important things to tell you than this. Unfortunately, he sorta needs to provide details in order to convey how exactly he failed his one plan for this new life.
In his first life, Technoblade had died a tragic death, though he had plugged his merch one last time in an attempt to support his remaining family. He had understood well that his time had come, and passed with few regrets. He died proud of the impact his legacy had left in the world he knew. He didn’t have long to rest though, as next thing he knew, he had swallowed a horrendously bitter fruit. His little head had nearly exploded at the time, for the rush of many years of mixed memories had been too much for the tall 5 year old.
Yeah, it turned out he was 5 once again.
Apparently he was reborn as a healthy lad, but this left him with quite the conundrum. He had no clue as to who he was meant to be in this life. He had been satisfied with how things had turned out in his first life, and had no real reason to pursue new goals for a life he hadn’t asked for. Though as you will find out a bit later, this feeling did not last very long. In fact, not even a whole day.
Apparently, it had been a Devil Fruit that the young ( old old old old ) lad had munched on. The only reason he came to understand this is due to being tossed into the ocean ( why why why washe atthe beach ) by his father ( wrong wrong wrong ) in an attempt of goofy shenanigans, and had started sinking ( nonono nOT AgaIN ) despite being known as the best swimmer in his age group ( .... who was--? ).
After being rescued from a watery death, his father had discovered his consumption of the cursed object, and had proceeded to scold his son, but the young protagonist had only one thing in mind. How could he sellout? Well actually, he had been taking in his appearance in nearby reflections, and noting the new but oh-so familiar look, as well as ignoring the vague understanding of what had happened and where he had wound up. If you were to ask him though, then that would be what he would tell you.
From observation, he could see clearly that his genetics in this life had been heavily inspired by the fanon interpretations of his iconic character in his past life. Upon his head was shaggy pink hair, clearly taken from his mothers side, while his overall body type had been closer to his father’s tall and lean figure. His black eyes seemed to have this sort of blank stare. Not quite unattached or soulless mind you, just kinda like a Minecraft pig’s. They would look at you, but not quite in acknowledgement. Not a thought behind them. A part of him had been a bit disappointed that they weren’t blood red like some had depicted, but he supposes there’s nothing to be done now. After a physical assessment, he decided to just jump into understanding all he could.
He learned that he had asked to have his fifth birthday at the beach, only to spend most of the day taking a nap in the sand. He had been sent to wander so that the day would be a bit more entertaining, but it seemed that he had decided that eating some strange looking fruit was a smart decision. It was not.
His parents did not really question his prodding at seemingly random topics, as they had a feeling he had gained his self awareness as most children do. When he inquired about their shared home, they explained as simply as they could about their village on an island in the New World. Then came the inquiry about the New World, and they elaborated on how it was a further part of the Grand Line. Slowly they made their way down, from the Grand Line to the four Blues, then to the Red Line, and to the different navigation methods each of the seas used.
After a while, the questions turned to them, and as to how they knew so much of the world. They had explained that even though most people in this part of the world knew at least the bare minimum of how the different seas worked, they themselves had personal experience. According to them, his new father had been a low-ranked Marine, and had been stranded at sea after his entire fleet had been destroyed in battle. His mother, a captain of a pirate crew, had seen him drifting on some driftwood, barely clinging to life. She had taken pity on the poor man and had taken him aboard, nursing him back to health. After a while, they had eventually fallen in love, and her crew disbanded, understanding that their captain’s dream of becoming the King of Pirates had changed. All they wanted now was to live a long life with the little family they had created.
Technoblade had thought it sweet. Unfortunately, there will always be people who are incapable of letting go.
On his mother’s crew, there had been a young lass who was completely obsessed with her. She had been orphaned by some Marines who had been rampaging, and had later been taken in by his mother. So when the woman who raised her had decided to rescue, nurse, and elope with a Marine, who was apparently very wimpy, she did not take the news too well. No, she instead hunted them down for years, and as the sun began to descend on Technoblade’s fifth birthday, she had gotten revenge.
Technoblade had been firing questions left and right, wanting to learn all he could, as they all were returning to their little home, when they noticed smoke in the distance. The closer they got, the more they could understand what was happening. The island was being destroyed.
Things get blurry in his memories when he tries to recall anything after that. Pleads of mercy, blood, buildings burning, people fleeing, blood, a distinguishable Jolly Roger, blood , structures falling over, blood . If he’s being honest, he doesn’t know if the lack of memory was due to his youth or a trauma response, perhaps a bit of both, but he doesn’t pry into it too often. All he ever takes away from that story was that this was his origin story , and he knew exactly what he wanted to pursue in this life.
He would paint the land, the sky, the seas , with that woman's blood.
Later, he would learn that, sadly, revenge was a bit too easy.
He had fled to a nearby island for shelter, only to be ushered away when he had recounted his tale, for fear that he had followed. Thankfully, some nice people had been willing to take him in with them for a while, just until they reached an island where he could grow up safe.
It was decided that they would take temporary custody of him when he relayed his origin story to them. Technoblade - who had insisted they call him Techno for short, because he did not know his name in this life since he had hadn’t asked - had tried to laugh and joke about what had happened, but trying to insist to himself that this world was just a story and it didn’t matter and he would get his revenge anyway and it didn’t matter , had really started wearing down his mental health. Maybe it showed in his closed off stance, his trembling arms, the slight quiver of his lips, the glossy eyes, but he sure had looked pathetic to them. But one thing he can guarantee came across when he told his tale was the venom that had slipped out when he spoke of that woman .
In the time it had taken for all of this to get to this point, he had discovered what his Devil Fruit was. It had taken a bit under a week by dinghy boat, but he did not have to worry, as it turned out his new abilities allowed him access to some of his character’s old ones. Luckily, he had been a wise man to always carry some steak stacks, just in case.
To the shock of none, his Devil Fruit was a MineCraft Inventory.
Technically, it was the Store-Store Fruit (Hokan-Hokan no mi), which allowed him to access a sort of inventory space. He could vaguely feel that there were many items already in storage, but at the moment, he only had access to his Hotbar, which also contained a torch, Orphan Obliterator, and the Axe of Peace, though that hadn’t been too important at the moment. What was important though, was why in the world was there a Minecraft Fruit in One Piece .
Yes, he had realized he was in the One Piece franchise, but did not stress too hard at any implications because he had no intentions of becoming a major plot point whatsoever , especially since he had only managed to sit though roughly a hundred episodes before moving on with his life. Even if he couldn’t remember much of the long running series, he understood that the death of that woman would be completely inconsequential to the world he now resided in. The odds of him becoming a major player were infinitesimal, so he’d do as he pleased for now.
Unfortunately, something he did remember was how Luffy, the main character of this world, started on his path of piracy. It was when Red Hair Shanks, the red haired captain of the Red Hair Pirates, with a red scarred Jolly Roger paying respect to the red haired man’s red hair gave him both his arm and later his hat that once sat on his red hair.
You might be wondering why the emphasis is on red hair.
Funny enough, the captain of the ship he was on had the same red hair, as well as the same name and Jolly Roger. Only difference they appeared to have would be the lack of a missing arm. For those of us who don’t get double negatives in sentences, that means that Red Hair Shanks had two arms. Oh, and also a straw hat.
Technoblade understood then that he was living right before canon started, and knew that he must take care of his business within the next decade. Deciding to weaponize both his youthful looks and wisened mind, he inquired about everything he could in their time together. It was apparent that they had a soft spot for children, as it seemed he could get away with pretty much anything.
They taught him how to read compasses of many varieties, and how to steer and navigate a ship. Unfurling the sails and what situations called for paddles was difficult for his young body, but forever engraved into his mind. He was warned of the dangers of lacking a nutritious diet, especially out at sea, and therefore relearned the recommended dietary requirements throughout different stages of life, which apparently varied based on whether you were a seafarer or land based. They also deemed knowing how to have a ‘jolly good time’ as being essential to a life at sea, supposedly on the same level of importance as nutritional knowledge, so they partied often. He learned this and more, but he also noticed the subtle things about the ways they approached his curiosity.
They had seemed to dance around certain topics, trying to understand more about him and his past without skirting too close to his tragedy. They once asked about his Devil Fruit, wanting to help him develop his skills, but had seemed to drop the subject for a while when they learned that he ate his fruit the day of the massacre. They asked if he had been able to swim before, or if he had any activities he was previously interested in, but he claimed to not remember much before that day. Often, they’d find a bit of stale air hanging around him, but with how he tried to cut the tension with his high quality humor in combination with their easy going attitudes, it never lasted very long. That didn’t quell their curiosity of their ward, nor his restlessness though.
Perhaps it was inevitable that they would also teach him the blade. Of course, they had started with a broom that had seemingly never been used. Disgusting implications aside, they had wanted to see where his heart lied. Would he be a rampaging, bloodthirsty monster who would senselessly slaughter countless people, or would he become a sympathetic warrior who sought to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Perhaps he could even fizzle out his longing for revenge and move on to live a simple life? Nah, that’s a joke. Whether or not they approved of what they had seen in his swings would determine what they taught him.
Unfortunately, he was pretty darn good with a broom, so they quickly chose to guide him down a path of honor instead of risking letting him wander down a dark path. On the next island, where they had chosen to keep him for just a bit longer, they had managed to procure a sturdy wooden sword for him to properly learn with. And from there he blossomed.
He was a quick study, though a part of him had wondered if that was because he understood the way they taught, or because it was meant for the character he had onced played. Either way, by the time he had lived to see the dawn of his sixth birthday, he was progressing at a rate no child should have to. And it was on this day they chose to split ways. It was nothing on either party’s behalf, it’s just that his residence on their ship had always meant to be temporary.
At some point in their quest in finding a new home for Technoblade, he had discovered a neat little quirk about his abilities. If he searched through some sort of storage unit, like a bag or chest, he was able to physically perceive all of his slots, including his armor, inventory, and hotbar. While he was pleased to see that he had some familiar items, such as his enchanted netherite armor set, and some familiar tools that would surely aid him when the time came, his attention had been primarily focused on something else. An Ender Chest.
Yes, at the very end of his inventory slots, hidden away was an Ender Chest. When he had taken it out to peek into its contents, he had realized it was nearly filled with precious commodities. Blocks of iron, emeralds, and redstone, as well as tipped arrows, firework rockets, golden apples, two totems of undying, and so much more. There were a few things that had seemed out of place though. For one, he had Tommy’s disks, or at least he assumed they were. He could never remember where they were in the canon timeline. Besides those oddities were 3 stacks of different types of flowers. Poppies, cornflowers, and lilies of the valley. To others, they might seem to be a waste of inventory slots, but to a seasoned professional, they were instrumental to his plotting. These flowers could be made into dye, which were some of the main ingredients in making his favorite ammunition.
After this discovery, Technoblade had made a request to the captain to be settled on a secluded, flowery island where he could pass the time farming. Yes, the great, powerful warrior once feared by all who knew his name, was back on his retirement arc . Of course, since Shanks and his crew were worried about his mental health, they had been relieved that he had willingly chosen a slow, peaceful life in place of vengeance. Even before he had come to this decision, they were taking into consideration as to where to home him. It was easy to narrow down islands with his preference in mind, and soon found an ideal place.
Meadow Plains was an incredibly generic island name, though it had seemed to be fitting for a place in the East Blue. Yes, he coincidently ended up choosing an island in the East Blue, the same Blue that the main character had resided in, but that didn’t matter because he was not going to get involved . Regardless, once they had finally made it to the quaint island, they wasted no time getting him all prepped for his new life.
They refused to let him take the back seat in the making of the foundations of his settlement. Not out of childish spite or whatever, but in necessity, because they would not, could not, remain there forever. They had him chop logs, and saw them into shape for his new cabin home. They presented him tools for gardening and farming, and taught him tips and tricks to get results fast and efficiently. They had brought all kinds of seeds for him to thrive off of, and taught him the importance of seasonal timing. Since it was an isolated island, the local livestock had no need to fear them, and so he was taught the ins and outs of raising animals, and knowing how to choose who grew and who didn’t make the cut. There was so much more they had taught him, but if we stayed on this, you’d never get to hear about the actual story.
Though this was a lot of work, the entire process took less than a month. In part that Technoblade was a quick study, but also that the pirates were just freaky good and too many things. Within the short period, they had polished up his new home with some simple furniture, a healthy field, and some wonderful coops, though the free range animals were kept as such. To his surprise, they had set up a small training ground for him to continue his sword skills, should he ever want to be more than what he has seemingly chosen. It has many training dummies, a well leveled field, and a variety of training weapons. He doubts they knew the extent of his intentions, but a part of him felt glad they would not deny him this path he has chosen regardless.
On the dawn of his 6th birthday, they had given him one last birthday surprise. They had gathered together in celebration of this joyous day, hoping that their excitement would overwrite any pain the thought of this day might have. They sang and danced, they ate and drank ‘til their bellies were full, and joked like no tomorrow, but as the party began to wind down, they unveiled the mountain of gifts they had somehow hidden from him.
Most had given the young lad books, all varying on different topics. Perhaps this was the consequence of asking about everything. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the opportunity to learn more about this world, and all it had to offer ( even if half of them were comprehensible for low level learners, which he was not ). The books ranged from survival guide, to dictionaries and encyclopedias, to fairy tales and myths, to cook books, and so much more.
Some of the others had blessed him with more variety of clothing and footwear. There was a myriad of colors, though the styles were a bit gaudy. While most of his clothes were plain solids, there had been some florals and abstract patterns thrown into the mix. One article of clothing that had caught his eye was the cloak of a king, his cape . Rather, it was his character’s cape, but in the end it was easier to just say his .
Hidden underneath the bit too large cape was a box of shoes and boots a bit too large for his feet, perhaps meant for him to grow into. Similar to the clothes, there were some sensible choices, while the occasional outlandish article presented itself. In the midst was a familiar looking pair, probably added as a joke. Pig-styled heeled boots. If you have not been made aware, Sad-Ist’s Technoblade design had such a choice, and it would appear that the universe has decided on his outfit through its pirate pawns. Though he had a feeling the boots over on the bottom left were a bit closer to a certain WolfyTheWitch’s design. He supposed that he might get a choice after all.
Finally, after a few more knick knacks that would eventually get used up or lost, there remained only one more gift. Shanks’ gift. If Techno was being honest, he had sort of anticipated what was coming, he just never really assumed how or when . He certainly didn’t expect that Shanks would give him his crown right then . He probably should have expected as much though, considering this world’s treasure cliché. Shanks had told him that he had found the crown in some loot, and it had felt right to give it to him, though he couldn’t explain why. Pulling out the oversized crown from shoddy wrapping though, a part of him couldn’t help but finally understand that this was real , that he truly was gone. No longer would he get to stream, sellout, chant with his chat. No longer would he get to create content, create memories, with his family and friends, some of whom he’d never even met . No, all of it was gone. It had taken a year and a crown for it all to finally become real to him.
He remembers wiping the tears away, and telling Shanks of his plan to get strong, to avenge his parents, and to find peace in his heart. He remembers telling the pirate that one day, he would travel the seas in search of an audience, one who could appreciate his tales like before. He can clearly remember Shanks’ face when he looked him straight in the eye as he told him that he plans to tell tales so impactful, that there would be none who hadn’t heard of them. He’d end her story, and start one of his own. Finally, a use for the English Degree he never got .
The rest of the evening was a blur, but when he had awoken, the pirates had gone.
After that day, the pirates would come and go for about a year, mainly to ensure he hadn’t died, but also to help out when he needed it. At one point, they had spoken of a young lad who they should totally introduce him to , but he often declined. In this time, he was able to quickly develop his skills, both domestic and athletic. Whenever they were off the island, he trained his young body to wield his netherite equipment, one at a time. First had been his sword, then axe, pickaxe, shield, then his armor. Of course, the fool kept accidently pushing his body beyond his limits with no one around, so the time he could hold his equipment up was better than his ability to actually use it properly. At least his farming abilities were helping out his body in between training spurts.
Eventually, his 7th birthday came around, and so too had the time come for them to return to the Grand Line. Once more, they partied on and on, hoping to bring joy to the young lad’s heart. Once more, they brought him gifts of all kinds, from books to apparel. Though this time, they had decided to give him some more equipment, and things to maintain it.
Ben Beckman had been kind enough to set up a little mailbox for him, so that he may be in touch with the rest of the world in his little home. Yasopp had decided to partner with Lucky Roo to get him his own abundant supply of gunpowder , and his very own pistol . Though he was warned about the significance, he had decided that he’d never use the pistol, and instead use the copious amount of gunpowder for his firework rockets. Shanks had seemingly forgotten his special day, and had taken him fishing, hoping that the memories would be enough for the young boy. However, it would turn out to be a trick to get Techno down to the docks they had installed at some point.
Yes, plural docks. As in a minimum of two. As in, one dock for their ship, and another dock . Turns out Shanks had decided he was old enough for his own little sail boat. He was told that this was for if he ever needed supplies, help with certain things, if there was a danger he could not face, or just lonely in general. As they got closer, Technoblade noticed two little chests. The first had an abundance of treasure, perhaps enough to last him a good while. When he opened the other one up, he saw many beautiful leather bound books, as well as some expensive looking pens with their bottles of ink in a variety of colors. It was amazing and spectacular and brilliant and so much more . He remembers the warmth of Shanks’ one armed hug, and not wanting to let go.
A part of him understood that this would most likely be the last time they’d speak to each other for a long time, and he meant a long time. From what he could only vaguely remember at that point, it would be about a decade from then that Luffy would set sail. He doesn’t know if they ever meet again in the canon story, but he doubted it. And though he did not intend to join the main plot, he knew that these upcoming years would be for him to face alone. He just wished he could hold onto them for just a while longer.
Aww man, he ended up getting slightly attached. Sadge.
When he awoke the next morning, Shanks and his crew were gone once more. Most likely for good. It was better for them to leave this way, he couldn’t get too close, or he could mess up the plot. That’s what he told himself, at least. Either way, it was time for him to get started.
The next few years were spent cultivating both himself and his little home. He was wisened up to most of the common knowledge of this world and a bit more, and had finally formed enough physical strength and skill to utilize his weapons as he ( hischaracter ) once could. Thanks to his genes from his parents in this life, he had shot up considerably, allowing some lean muscle to build a bit early. Though his early growth spurt could also be attributed to the copious amounts of milk he had consumed. By the time he reached the age of 10, he had decided that it was time for him to seek vengeance, a common age for most anime protagonists.
If you remember earlier in this prologue where it was stated that revenge had been easy, we at Ao3 are sorry to inform you that you’ve been duped. It hadn’t been hard to track that woman down, as Shanks had given him her public information, such as her bounty and crew name. Apparently, she had taken up a carrier in bounty hunting. She evidently was incredibly cocky as well, as she would announce where she would be heading. Actually catching her was a bit harder than it needed to be. It would be easy enough to follow her trail, but there was something that needed to be done before he could pursue her.
Technoblade needed a way into the Grand Line. This was easy enough to achieve.
Throughout the years, Technoblade had developed a plan as to how exactly he planned to chase that wretched person. From what he understood, he would need to find a crew in Loguetown that would be willing to let him temporarily reside with them, at least until he can get far enough in. If he couldn’t find a willing ship however, he could always resort to the ‘Innit Method’. That was to, as the kids would say, steal and scram . Of course, he’d need to don his iconic outfit in order to avoid suspicion after he ‘retired’. So in order, the plan was to get to Loguetown, find a mask to complete his look, and then make way onto the Grand Line. Afterwhich, he would hunt her and her crew down, slay them, and then the rest of his teen years in peace, before pursuing his newfound dream. Simple .
Before leaving Meadow Plains, he had prepared his cape and crown, his pig boots ( which were a pain to learn to walk in ), and some spare white dress shirts and black pants. At some point he had discovered that his armor and accessories swapped, rather than only allowing one at a time. For example, if his crown was on his head, his helmet would remain on standby, ready to swap places at a moment's notice. Another thing he had learned was that he could consciously switch between his inventory and actual storage when he needed to. Basically, if he had no slots left, he could place things in a regular chest. This took him a long time to learn, embarrassingly long in fact. To avoid having to place a chest everywhere, he had purchased a leather waist satchel thing that was not a fanny pack . It was cool and efficient and not a fanny pack .
One last thing he had done before setting sail was placing a Lodestone in a corner of his home, and setting his compass to fixate on it. You might be wondering where he got such items. He too wonders to this day as to why, but it was in his Ender Chest when he had searched through it. Maybe he was going to do some final lore and wanted to leave something behind symbolically. Perhaps he wanted to just clean up his little hut on the server. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t conjure up a reason as to why he had it. In the end, he had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. All he knew was that he had the pair, and was not going to let them go to waste.
Getting onto the Grand Line hadn’t been as much of a spectacle as the show had made it out to be. Sure, he didn’t need his own crew or boat, but it wasn’t really all too hard. In fact, the hardest part of the entire endeavor was finding a suitable mask. He had trouble deciding if he wanted some intricate skull mask or a simplistic pig mask. While the skull mask would strike fear into all who saw him, he understood that this franchise had a rounder art style for the most part. Eventually, he decided he would try to stick to his pig motif as much as possible.
With his outfit deemed complete, he managed to haggle his way into the Grand Line with a crew of bounty hunters. When he first brought up his target, they had mocked him. Technoblade couldn’t really blame them for their reaction, but they certainly blamed him for his . He, very gently, pummeled them into submission. They were able to listen to reason after that. Finally, they had managed to get along, at the very least for their own safety. They ‘allowed’ him to stay aboard the ship, just until he claimed her bounty. That worked well enough for Techno, since that had been the plan. But what are plans if nothing goes wrong?
One of the agreements of his tagging along was that he had to pull his own weight in fights, so he had managed to collect quite a bit of bounties before long. Unfortunately, this also earned him a reputation, and in turn, his own bounty, where he had been dubbed ‘The Pig’. Of course, he had anticipated this, which is why he had his pig fit. Unfortunately, while his temporary crew had settled on an island to wait for their Log Pose reset, someone had decided to try and claim his bounty. Three guesses as to who it was.
Yes, there to claim his life as she did his parents’, was her . You might be wondering as to what her name and title were, but there’s a good reason they’ve been omitted. No, it is not because he’s forgotten them, despite what you might assume of him. No, it’s because he believes someone as heinous as her doesn't deserve a spot in history. Technoblade is a firm believer in the idea that one only truly dies when they are forgotten. And with the havoc that had occurred that day, he is sure that the only person to remember what truly happened that day would be himself alone .
One habit Techno forced himself to develop over the years was to sleep lightly, and sleep prepared . In his Ender Chest had resided two Totems of Revival. In his sleep, he’d clutch one, knowing that the day might come where he’d need it. Maybe the idea was a bit too much for the main plot of the series, but this wasn’t the main plot. This was the prologue. And on that night, it had saved his life.
Yes, that woman had decided that the best way to eliminate him was in his sleep. This had some consequences.
Once more, Technoblade could not remember most of the night. He remembered waking up to face his death, but being unable to stop it intime. He remembered the feeling of dying to the blade of a small knife. He remembered being torn apart and reconstructed, the explosion of exp that occurred. He remembered her fear as she watched it happen, and how it was etched onto her face forever as she swiftly died to his blade. After that, his memory was blurred. He knew that the rest of her crew needed to be dealt with, and had understood through his haze that he’d have to fight alone, as he could hear the fading screams of the crew who gave him passage. He could feel the flames that engulfed the island, the blood blood blood that coated the coast. He feel his throat going soar as he shouted the same things over and over again as each enemy, both bounty hunters and nearby Marines ( whywhywhy were theythere? ), who had demanded as to why he had survived.
“Technoblade never dies.”
“Blood for the Blood God.”
“Technoblade never dies.”
He remembers only these few things from that night, but it definitely left an impact on his life.
His mind had become clear about a week later, when he startled awake on a familiar ship deck to the light of the rising sun. Looking around, he found himself on the ship the bounty hunters who’d taken in him. He realized that in a mindless haze, he had allowed himself to drift aimlessly on the abandoned ship. He remembers laying down and trying to sort his mind and heart. He understood that though they weren’t too close, that he’d miss those guys. He understood that he had completed his life mission a bit sooner than he’d liked, it hadn’t even been half a year . It was too fast, too convenient . He understood the aching in his heart, that his need for revenge had been fruitless in the end, and he hadn’t been in enough control to give himself closure. He understood that in this life, there was blood blood blood on his hands that would never be washed away, that he’d taken lives, and that his would forever be tainted.
All of this had been solidified when News Coo , the newspaper delivery bird, had dropped off the latest installment, with his bounty on the cover. It told the official tale of what had happened, from the Marine’s skewed view. It claimed that a bounty hunter had committed mutiny in the name of blood, and how he had completely razed the entire island. They spun a tale of how local Marine heroes had sought to stop him, to make him see reason, and how they gave their lives in the name of justice. They had given him a new bounty, with an image of him in his pig mask going wild.
“‘ Blood God ’ Techno Blade Wanted 4,000,000.”
They had made him out to be a villain, a monster .
Well, if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was how to play the part .
Things afterward slowly escalated. As more and more people chased him down for his bounty, despite being pretty low for being both impactful and a Grand Line bounty, he had realized he’d need time to shake them off. Battle after battle, he’d sail as far as he could, trying to his any personal information they’d try to find. He’d done his best to keep his abilities a secret, using his sword, Orphan Obliterator, as well as his reliable shield. It was decided that his rocket launcher, Subscribe to Technoblade, was to be a well kept secret, used only in dire situations. And so, he put all he could into his storage slots, never to see the light of day.
Despite his grand start to a powerful reputation, one that struck fear into kingdoms and their people, his bounty had barely increased over the next four years. From a wimpy 4 million to a pathetically low 13 million. Maybe it was pretty okay in some of the seas, but for the Grand Line? Horrible. He’d led revolts and demolished corrupt kingdoms, bringing countless organizations to their knees, he deserved a higher bounty.
What?
It’d taken a while for him to realize that he had strayed from his path, from his dream . He couldn’t remember why he decided to continue this bloody road, but by the time he returned to his abandoned home on Meadow Plains months before his 15th birthday, he had sworn to never return to that way of life.
It was easy enough to swear it off, but violence was crawling beneath his skin. He could feel the desire itching its way to the surface, like a need . So, he focused on farming his vegetables, on growing his flowers, and on raising his animals. He fine tuned his sharpest weapon, his pen. He wrote down the tales that he could recall: Of his own, or of others. He didn’t quit training his fighting skills, but he hoped that he’d never need to use them again.
And that's how he spent the last two years before the plot began.
Inevitably, two darn wannabes washed up.