One Piece: Transmigrated as Smoker with Dark-Dark Fruit

Time flew by.

In the blink of an eye, Smoker had spent two intense and fulfilling years at the base.

In just a few more days, he'd officially become a Seaman Recruit.

Once that happened, he'd get medical insurance and injury compensation!

He wouldn't have to settle for just 70% of the salary anymore,

and he could finally join the Marine Union!

All in all, lots of perks awaited!

When Smoker first joined Base 161, he specifically told Captain Cole not to reveal anything about him.

So to the others, he was just an average intern.

No special treatment,

no discrimination,

and definitely no expectations.

He was just another guy, no fireworks, no spotlight.

With a Seastone collar around his neck, Smoker trained alongside everyone else, sweating and bleeding in the training yard.

Running, climbing, shooting, sparring...

He did everything, except for water-based drills.

Since Devil Fruits were practically unheard of in the East Blue,

everyone simply assumed Smoker was just a really bad swimmer.

At first, Smoker performed poorly, even worse than the average soldier.

Captain Cole was baffled.

How the hell had this kid ever caught those dangerous pirates?

Was he holding back on purpose?

He glanced over at Smoker, who was puking his guts out on the training field.

Nope. Definitely not faking it.

Still, Cole knew better than to pry. He simply watched quietly from the sidelines.

As the days passed, things began to change.

People started seeing Smoker in a new light.

The guy trained like he was trying to die.

During endurance drills, while others ran 100 laps around the field, he'd run 200.

Even if he vomited or his limbs cramped up, he'd crawl to the finish line if he had to.

In striking drills, while others used pads to hit punching bags,

he punched solid stone with his bare hands—so hard his fists bled, yet he never stopped.

His insane intensity left the other Marines speechless.

But the world is never short on hardheads.

Inspired or maybe provoked by Smoker, the others started pushing themselves too.

After two years of this, Smoker's strength had skyrocketed, making him one of the top dogs at Base 161.

Even better, Captain Cole was thrilled to see Smoker's dedication rubbing off on everyone else.

Soldiers who used to hit the bar or nap after training

now stayed behind for extra practice.

The training yard turned into a sweaty arena of muscle-bound maniacs.

With everyone stepping up, the base's combat strength soared.

Pirates who used to be tough fights were now getting steamrolled.

Captain Cole was ecstatic.

This was all military merit and funding in the bag!

One day, Smoker collapsed on the training ground like a dead dog after a brutal session.

His entire body was drenched in sweat like he'd just been parboiled.

Most noticeable were his hands, wrapped in thick bandages already soaked with blood.

A red-haired, cigarette-smoking female Marine strolled up with a cocky smirk.

"Tsk tsk... Looking real rough, little bro," she said.

"Pushing yourself this hard? There's no do-over if you end up a cripple."

Grabbing him by the arm, she yanked him to his feet.

At that moment, Captain Cole happened to be passing by after work and was stunned at the sight.

"Smoker, what happened to you?!"

The redhead rolled her eyes and shoved him toward Cole.

"Overtraining, duh. If I hadn't stepped in, this kid would've spent the night on the pavement."

"Since you're here, he's your problem now! Looking after subordinates is your job, Captain!"

With that, she turned and walked off.

Cole didn't mind her attitude, he was used to it. He nodded.

"Thanks, Bell-mère. I'll take it from here."

Bell-mère just waved it off and sauntered away.

Yes, that Bell-mère, the one who'd one day raise Nami.

Cole helped Smoker toward his cabin, nagging along the way.

"Smoker, hard work's great, but you've got to stop pushing like this. You'll wreck your body."

Smoker replied weakly, "I know, but... time doesn't wait for anyone."

"You're still young! What's the damn rush?!"

Smoker didn't answer and instead changed the topic.

"Captain, I'd like to join the patrol tomorrow."

"You're in this state and you still want to go out to sea?!"

"Honestly, being at sea feels easier..."

Cole sighed. "Fine. Be at the dock on time. If you oversleep, we're leaving without you."

"Sleep in? You're seriously underestimating me, you bastard Captain."

"You little punk, is that how you talk to your superior?!"

Cole grumbled while helping Smoker into bed, then left.

Once alone, Smoker removed the necklace from his chest.

The moment the Seastone seal lifted, his spirit surged and his body felt light.

A wave of darkness cloaked him, wrapping his body like a cocoon.

When it faded, all his wounds were gone.

Even though most of his time was spent training, he hadn't neglected his Devil Fruit.

Now, not only could he use the Dark-Dark Fruit to absorb injuries,

he could even absorb pain and fatigue.

That was how he kept pushing past his limits every single day.

With a deep breath, Smoker unwrapped the bandages from his fists—there was no trace of injury left.

He turned his palm over. A translucent white orb appeared.

[I've stored up a good amount of damage. Time to find some pirates...]

Damage absorbed by the Dark-Dark Fruit could be stored indefinitely.

But pain and exhaustion had to be offloaded onto someone else.

Yes, someone. A living person.

Animals just didn't cut it.

If no one bore the pain, it'd eventually bounce back to Smoker himself.

Which was exactly why he loved going out to sea.

Catching pirates gave him targets to dump his suffering on.

Truthfully, Captain Cole had long suspected something was off.

The pirates Smoker brought in were barely hurt,

but they all sobbed like their mothers had died.

Every time, Cole would sternly warn Smoker against prisoner abuse—

then turn a blind eye anyway.

Smoker always promised, "Won't happen again,"

but then did the same thing over and over.

The two had been stuck in this loop for a while now.

The next morning, a loud newspaper gull woke Smoker up.

One glance at the clock—five minutes until departure!

"F***!!"

He shot up, threw on his clothes, and bolted toward the dock.

The warship was ready to set sail.

Captain Cole stood on deck, gritting his teeth.

"That damn brat's late again!"

Bell-mère strolled up cheerfully.

"Captain, you saw what shape he was in yesterday. Bet he can't even get out of bed today. Maybe we should just leave him behind~~"

Just as Cole was about to agree, a shadow burst from the base soared through the air and landed squarely on the deck.

"Marine intern Smoker reporting for duty!"

Cole twitched. "Fall in!"

Then shouted, "Set sail!"

Tooooooot!

The warship's whistle blew, and the ship slowly left port.

After sailing for a while, only the helmsman and lookout remained on duty.

The rest were free to relax.

Smoker leaned on the railing, spacing out.

Bell-mère, cigarette dangling from her lips, approached with a few Marines.

"Yo, little bro. Got nothing to do now that you're not training, huh?"

Smoker glanced over and smirked.

"You here to thank me for saving your asses last time? Don't bother. Just don't screw up again."

He looked at one of them. "Especially you, Otto. Try not to cry this time."

The mustached Marine beside Bell-mère blushed and snapped,

"Screw you, Smoker! That was a one-time fluke! Sand got in my eyes!!"

He snuck a glance at Bell-mère.

Seeing she looked indifferent, he sighed in relief.

"Ahahaha, let's not bring that up again." Bell-mère gave a mischievous grin, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Smoker, you're not a kid anymore. Want one? Smoking makes you more manly~~"

Smoker gave the brand a glance, it wasn't bad.

But he was still too young to become a chain smoker.

"No thanks."

"Don't say I didn't warn you. This brand's got a punch. One whiff and you'll smell like an ashtray for life..."

Suddenly, Smoker stared her up and down.

Bell-mère squirmed. "What are you looking at?!"

Smoker sighed, looking regretful.

"Never mind. I take it back. With your looks, smoking probably won't make a difference anyway..."

Bell-mère froze then exploded.

"You little shit!! I'll kill you!!"

The Marines scrambled to hold her back.

"Calm down! No fighting on the ship!"

"Ahh ow ow ow! Let go of my eye!!"

They barely managed to drag Bell-mère away, her furious cursing echoing behind.

Smoker chuckled and turned back to the sea.

Suddenly, an alarm blared across the ship.

The relaxed Marines sprang into action, grabbing weapons and assembling within minutes.

Smoker stood at attention, eyes forward, but he was surprised.

Despite the number of pirates out there, the sea was massive.

Most patrols didn't see action for weeks.

And yet, they were already hitting a jackpot today.

On deck, Cole turned to his executive officer.

"Lieutenant Commander Barnard, what's going on?"

Barnard picked up a report.

"A pirate ship was spotted chasing a merchant vessel.

Judging by the flag, it's the infamous Gottar Pirates.

Captain 'No Survivors' Gottar, bounty: 17.3 million berries!"

"Seventeen point three?!"

Cole's eyes widened. "After them! Protect the merchant ship!"

"Aye, sir!"

The helmsman spun the wheel.

The warship surged forward like a blade drawn from its sheath, roaring toward the enemy.

In the ranks, Smoker heard the name too.

The Gottar Pirates, huh?

Perfect. Another unlucky soul to bear his pain.

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200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter