CHAPTER 1: ROMANCE DAWN

High noon on the Conomi Islands was a sight to behold, the sun casting stark shadows over the landscape. The remains of Arlong Park lay scattered everywhere, the rubble a testament to the epic battle that had taken place. Standing atop the largest pile of debris was a young man dressed in a red vest, blue shorts. His name was known to his crew as their fearless captain, though his true identity was far more complex.

Below him, looking up in admiration and relief, stood his first mate and swordsman, Roronoa Zoro. With his green hair, three earrings on his left ear, and the three katanas by his side, Zoro’s muscular frame was a beacon of strength. Beside him, Vinsmoke Sanji, the cook, exhaled a plume of smoke from his cigarette. His blonde hair covered one eye, and his black suit seemed out of place amidst the rubble, yet he wore it with pride.

Usopp, the crew’s marksman, with his long nose and goggles perched on his forehead, adjusted his slingshot, a wide grin plastered on his face. And finally, there was Nami, the navigator, her orange hair cascading around her shoulders, wearing the captain's iconic straw hat with a sense of ownership. The victory over Arlong was as much hers as anyone's, perhaps more.

The villagers of Cocoyashi Village were jubilant, their cheers ringing through the air as they celebrated the end of Arlong’s tyranny. Laughter and tears mingled as families reunited and shared stories of resilience and hope.

But the celebration was short-lived. An army of marines suddenly appeared on the horizon, their disciplined march silencing the revelry. At their head was a towering marine in a pristine white suit. His presence exuded authority and lethargy, an odd combination that hinted at a deeper power.

The marines prepared to round up all the pirates, their formation tight and menacing. "Round them all up," the towering marine said, his voice slow and deliberate.

A high-ranking marine officer stepped forward. It was Nezumi, recognizable by his rat-like features, whiskers, and the dark circles under his eyes. "Confiscate all the loot the Arlong Pirates had in their possession!" he demanded, his tone oily and greedy.

Before the crew could react, Nami stepped forward, her bo staff in hand. With a swift, decisive movement, she knocked Nezumi unconscious, his body crumpling to the ground.

The towering marine turned his attention to her, his gaze cold and calculating. "Hitting a marine officer has consequences," he said, his voice as slow as his movements. He reached out, his hand aiming to grasp her arm.

Before he could make contact, the young man who had defeated Arlong appeared beside Nami. He grabbed the marine’s hand, stopping it mid-air. The tension was palpable as the captain looked up at the towering marine, their eyes locking in a battle of wills.

"A marine Admiral you may be," the captain said, his voice low and intense, "but no one touches my woman."

The warning was ominous and intense, sending chills through everyone present. Even Sanji, standing beside the captain, felt a flicker of fear, his usual bravado momentarily shaken.

The admiral's eyes narrowed, but he did not pull back. Instead, he scrutinized the young captain, perhaps seeing something in him that others had missed. "You have guts," he said finally, withdrawing his hand. "But guts alone won't save you from the consequences of defying the law."

The young captain didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering. "We’ll see about that."

The villagers watched in a mix of awe and fear as the marines hesitated, the standoff creating an uneasy silence. Zoro's grip tightened on his swords, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. Sanji exhaled another plume of smoke, his eyes never leaving the admiral. Usopp’s fingers itched for his slingshot, and Nami stood her ground, her heart pounding but her resolve unshaken.

***

[A FEW WEEKS PRIOR]

The tavern in Moscow was a haven for all sorts, from weary travelers to shifty characters. Eto Shapan sat at the bar, his gaze steady as he observed the patrons filtering in and out. He was a world-class assassin, taking a brief respite before pursuing his next target. The strong glass of vodka in his hand barely registered as he scanned the room, his eyes darting to every corner, noting exits, potential threats, and peculiar behaviors.

Eto was a short young man in his early twenties, a black man with a chiseled frame honed from years of rigorous training. He wore an expensive suit, the white shirt crisp and the red tie neatly knotted. His demeanor was unassuming, a facade perfected over years of blending into crowds and vanishing without a trace.

As he lifted his glass for another sip, a sudden hush fell over the tavern. The cause was immediately apparent—a beautiful woman in a blood-red dress had just entered. Her presence was magnetic, drawing the gaze of every patron. She exuded seduction, her movements graceful and confident. Eto's eyes followed her as she glided across the room, her heels clicking softly on the wooden floor.

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She reached the bar and handed the bartender a black card. Without a word, she turned and walked out, leaving a trail of curiosity in her wake. Eto's instincts kicked in. From his breast pocket, he pulled out a small device and checked the image of his target. It was her.

Finishing his vodka in one swift gulp, Eto slid off his stool and exited the tavern. He spotted the woman walking along the sidewalk and began to follow her, maintaining a safe distance. His experience allowed him to avoid her random glances effortlessly, slipping into shadows and blending with the sparse crowd.

As he trailed her, Eto's mind was a whirlwind of calculation and strategy. She led him to one of the most expensive and heavily guarded hotels in the city. Eto paused at the edge of the hotel, watching as she passed through the lobby and entered an elevator. He noted the security measures, the patrol routes of the guards, and the layout of the lobby.

The following day, Eto put his plan into action. He followed a hotel employee home, efficiently eliminating them and taking their uniform. Disguised as hotel staff, he slipped into the hotel, his silenced 9mm pistol concealed under his jacket. He navigated the hallways with ease, reaching the apartment of the beautiful woman.

Knocking on the door, he feigned the role of a dutiful hotel worker. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the luxurious space. As he searched the apartment, pistol at the ready, everything went black.

---

Eto woke with a start, the sound of waves crashing against a small boat filling his ears. It was the middle of the night, the ocean around him an endless expanse of blackness. He screamed, a primal sound of confusion and fear. Beside him, a young man with pink hair bolted awake, his own scream mingling with Eto’s.

“What the hell?” Eto muttered, looking around in bewilderment. He saw his reflection in the moonlit water and froze. It wasn’t his face. Panic set in as a wave of foreign memories surged through his mind, accompanied by a splitting headache. Scenes of a young boy named Goku flashed before his eyes.

The memories were vivid and unmistakable. Eto recognized them from his favorite anime. He had all of Goku’s memories up to the point of returning from training with Kami, preparing for the Tenkaichi Budokai. As the pain subsided, he came to a chilling realization—he must have died. The acceptance came swiftly. In his line of work, death was always a looming presence. He had no attachments, no family he cared for. His existence had been cold and calculated, a life of mastery over weapons and tactics.

Now, he was in Goku’s body. The possibilities thrilled him. All the abilities and adventures that awaited him in this new world. As his thoughts drifted, he remembered he wasn’t alone. Turning, he saw the pink-haired boy staring at him, equally bewildered.

“Are you alright?” the boy asked, his voice tinged with fear and confusion.

“I’m... I’m Goku,” Eto replied, testing the name on his tongue. It felt strange yet familiar.

The boy's eyes widened. "Yes, I know you are.”

Eto frowned, another wave of memories crashing into him. He had woken up in the place of Monkey D. Luffy years ago. His mind struggled to piece together the fragments. Everyone around him believed he had always been there. Suddenly, it all clicked. He was in the world of One Piece, but there was no Luffy. He, Eto Shapan, had taken Luffy’s place. From what he could put together. Goku grew up in this world in the place of Luffy. As the grandson of the Marine Hero Monkey D. Garp. Brother of the late Sabo and Ace. His name being Monkey D. Goku.

As he grappled with this revelation, the enormity of his situation settled over him. In this world, he was both Goku and Luffy. His new life was fraught with danger and potential. Looking at the pink-haired boy, he steeled himself for the journey ahead.

“My name is Eto Shapan,” he whispered to himself, a twisted smile forming on his lips. “And I’m ready for whatever comes next.”

In the distance, the horizon began to glow with the first light of dawn, marking the start of an extraordinary adventure.

Earlier, Goku—Eto still found it surreal to think of himself as Goku—had rescued Coby from the clutches of the Alvida Pirates. Their escape had been a chaotic blur of punches and blasts, with Goku's strength ensuring their safe departure. Now, as they drifted towards a nearby island, the events of their escape replayed in his mind.

"Are you okay?" Coby asked, his voice trembling slightly. "That was... weird.”

Goku grinned, his Saiyan nature finding joy in the battle despite the odd circumstances. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

Coby nodded, though he still seemed shaken. "I can't believe you fought off all those pirates by yourself. Who taught you to fight?”

For a moment, Eto considered explaining everything but decided against it. "Just think of it as a weird dream, okay? Everything is fine now."

Coby looked skeptical but eventually nodded. "If you say so. We should reach the island by morning. Let's take turns paddling and resting."

As they took turns paddling through the night, Eto's thoughts were a tangled mess. He was in Goku's body, in a world he vaguely knew from watching a few episodes of the anime. The name Monkey D. Goku was absurdly fitting, considering his dual memories. He needed to learn as much about this world as possible. Goku’s simplicity matched Luffy’s, but Eto's knowledge was limited. He recalled something about Arlong and the few episodes he had seen, but beyond that, his memory was patchy.

Morning broke, casting golden light over the ocean. An island came into view, its silhouette dotted with power plant-shaped towers. This was Shells Town, the first significant stop in Luffy's journey.

Coby, looking relieved, pointed to the island. "That's Shells Town. There's a Marine base there. We should be safe."

As they approached, Coby's expression turned serious. "I've heard rumors about a swordsman named Zoro being held there. They say he's dangerous."

The name struck a chord with Goku—Eto. "Roronoa Zoro? I've heard of him. Let's check it out."

Coby looked surprised. "You know him?"

Goku just smiled. "Not exactly, but I'm curious to meet him."

With renewed determination, they paddled towards Shells Town, the adventure in this strange new world just beginning.

[A/N: Read the rest of this novel available on my patreon right now. patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels ]