ONE PIECE: Lone Sails

With a basic grasp of the Card Fruit's abilities, Noah set to work, his mind buzzing with ideas. He wove several one-cubic-meter bamboo cages, filling them with dead branches and leaves before setting them ablaze. As the flames peaked, he sealed each cage into a stone card.

[Stone Card—Ghost Lantern] was born—a portable fire, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

Using this principle, he crafted over a dozen distinct card types, each tailored to his needs and the island's resources:

[Stone Card—Smoke Lantern Rain]: Upon release, it unleashed a dozen football-sized bamboo lanterns packed with semi-dry and semi-wet firewood, producing thick, choking smoke.

[Stone Card—Poison Lantern Rain]: Similar to its smoky counterpart, but laced with the toxic sap of Buddleia vine, a poisonous weed he'd found nearby. His lack of expertise in poisons limited its potency, but it was a start.

[Stone Card—Falling Stone]: A single large stone sealed within, designed to drop from midair with crushing force.

[Stone Card—Rock Rain]: Dozens of smaller stones, raining down like a deadly shower when released.

[Stone Card—Thorn Ball Rain]: Small bamboo cages packed with stones and wrapped in wasp-thorn vines, their stings as agonizing as a wasp's. 

[Stone Card—Wave]: A cubic meter of seawater, a weapon against other Devil Fruit users.

[Stone Card—Quagmire]: A cubic meter of soil, perfect for smothering flames.

[Stone Card—Sand]: A cubic meter of dry, fine sand, capable of creating a blinding dust cloud.

[Stone Card—Poison Ant Nest]: A nest of red-toothed ants, their bites delivering fiery, days-long pain.

[Stone Card—Storage Box]: A bamboo basket for storing food or supplies, simple yet invaluable.

In total, he produced eleven card types. With more materials and tools, he could have crafted even greater varieties, but the island's limitations—and his own flagging stamina—forced him to stop. After printing over a hundred cards, exhaustion overtook him, and he collapsed into sleep.

The wilderness of the deserted island was eerily quiet, save for the hum of insects and the rhythmic crash of waves. Lulled by these sounds, Noah passed the night in relative peace.

At dawn, the first rays of sunlight brushed his face. He awoke with a yawn, his body stiff from a restless night spent rising to tend the fire. Rubbing his sore muscles, he grabbed a bamboo pole and struck the ground as he walked, weaving through the bamboo grove and mangroves to reach the beach.

The sea stretched endlessly before him, its surface unbroken by sails or ships. "I can't just sit and wait any longer," he muttered, resolve hardening within him.

He scoured the shore for useful items, gathering oysters and clams for breakfast. The beach yielded abandoned boat logs, bamboo poles, tattered fishing nets, and even a rusty, chipped knife. Returning to his shelter, he prepared a simple meal, then set out to explore the island's coastline before noon.

The trek took over four hours, his boots sinking into sand and stone as he circled the island. It was larger than he'd expected, with a coastline spanning fifty to sixty kilometers and a cluster of high mountains at its center. No other islands appeared to the southeast or northwest, and the horizon remained devoid of ships.

On the island's western side, he stumbled upon a herd of walruses basking in the sun. Seizing the opportunity, he launched a stealthy attack, felling one with a combination of his cards and the broken knife. Back at his shelter, he sharpened the blade and carved over ten kilograms of walrus meat, sealing the rest in a storage card. Wrapping the meat in banana leaves and mud, he roasted it into a makeshift beggar's dish. Though unseasoned, he devoured it ravenously, consuming the full ten kilograms.

Patting his stomach, he noted he was only seventy percent full. My appetite's grown. In the past, five or six kilograms would have sated him—now, he'd tripled that. Even a Paramecia Devil Fruit boosts the body's potential, though not as dramatically as an Animal-type.

With food secured, Noah spent the midday hours training in the bamboo grove, honing his strength and reflexes. As the sun's heat waned in the afternoon, he returned to the beach, collecting shells to build a rudimentary charcoal kiln and lime burner near his shelter. By nightfall, he resumed experimenting with the Card Fruit, refining his techniques.

Days blurred into a week of survival and preparation. Then, one evening, as he roasted meat on the beach, a small fishing boat appeared on the horizon. Heart pounding, Noah grabbed a card and released a [Smoke Lantern Rain]. Thick smoke billowed into the sky, a beacon against the twilight. The boat adjusted its sails, steering toward the signal.

Over an hour later, the vessel ground onto the shore, and a figure leapt out, rushing toward him. "Little Noah! You're alive!"

"Uncle! I'm sorry to have worried you!"

It was Carnegie Joseph, his uncle—a middle-aged man with black hair tied in a ponytail, his face etched with exhaustion and relief. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Noah as he gripped his shoulders. "You can fish with me from now on, Noah. If something happened to you, I wouldn't know how to face your father."

Seeing his uncle's weariness, Noah nodded. "Alright, Uncle. Let's sit and rest first."

They lingered on the beach for over an hour, sharing roasted meat and coconut water. Together, they pushed the boat back into the sea, unfurling the sails to catch the wind. "Noah! Let's go home!" Joseph called.

"Okay, Uncle!" Noah replied, helping to manage the canvas.

After more than seven hours, as the sun dipped below the horizon, their small boat docked at Starfish Island's pier. A handful of weathered fishermen awaited them, their faces lighting up with relief.

"Little Noah, you're safe!" one exclaimed.

"We've been searching nearby for days. Where did you drift?" another asked.

Joseph smiled wearily. "He washed up on Walrus Island. Thank you all for your help. Tomorrow, drinks are on me at the Old Captain Bar."

"Hahaha, Joseph, you said it—don't show up empty-handed!" one fisherman teased, sparking laughter among the group.

Amid the chatter and jests, Noah and Joseph made their way home. Pushing open the wooden door, they were greeted by Joshua, Noah's cousin, who was mending a fishing net. His eyes widened with joy. "Brother! You're okay! Father, you found him!"

The brothers embraced, clapping each other's backs with affection. In that moment, Noah silently vowed to protect his uncle's family, repaying their unwavering kindness.

That evening, after washing off the grime of the past week, the three gathered around the dining table. Over a simple meal, Noah recounted his ordeal, choosing not to conceal the truth about the Devil Fruit. Hiding it from family risked misunderstandings, and he trusted them implicitly.

"Brother, what's a Devil Fruit?" Joshua asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It's a rare treasure from the sea," Noah explained. "Eating it grants you superpowers."

Joseph's expression turned grave. "Noah, don't tell anyone else about this. Joshua, you keep it secret too. Understand?"

Joshua nodded rapidly. "Yes, Father. I won't tell a soul."

"Uncle, I'll keep it quiet too," Noah assured him. "Don't worry."

He understood his uncle's caution. In a world of pirates and power, a Devil Fruit could draw envy or danger. For now, it was a secret best kept within the family, a quiet strength to build upon as he carved his path forward.