The inherenter of jin mori

Chapter 5: The Weight of SurvivalDays turned into weeks. Yuta's body ached from the endless labor, but he refused to let it break him. Every day in Big Mom's prison was a battle—against exhaustion, against the guards, against the hunger that gnawed at his stomach. The food rations were barely enough to keep him going, but he learned to endure.

More importantly, he learned to adapt.

The first step to survival wasn't just getting stronger—it was understanding the world he had been thrown into. Yuta listened. He memorized names, routines, weaknesses. The guards had patterns, predictable habits. Some were sadistic, others lazy. Some took bribes, others took pleasure in making prisoners suffer. And the other inmates—thieves, pirates, and criminals from all over the Grand Line—each had their own stories.

Yuta knew he was nothing special in this world. He had no Devil Fruit, no superhuman strength, no legendary lineage. But he had a brain, and he had willpower. And that would have to be enough.

One night, as he sat in his cell, an older prisoner slid onto the stone bench beside him. The man was wiry, his skin weathered from years at sea, but his dark eyes were sharp.

"You're different from the others," the man said, his voice low. "Most prisoners rot in here. But you… you're watching. Thinking."

Yuta didn't answer right away. He had learned that words in this place could be as dangerous as fists.

"Who are you?" Yuta finally asked.

The man smirked. "Name's Varro. Used to be a navigator. Now? Just another forgotten soul in Big Mom's hell." He leaned closer. "But I still remember things. Maps. Smuggling routes. Weaknesses."

Yuta's pulse quickened. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this.

"And?" he prompted.

"And," Varro continued, "I've been here long enough to know one thing. Nobody escapes this place alone."

Yuta met his gaze.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not planning to die here," he said.

Varro grinned. "That's the spirit, kid."