3 Chapter 3: Reincarnated as a Scam

"Congratulations, it's a boy!" The midwife jubilantly announced.

"I have a son, the Gods have heard our prayers!" exclaimed a man in his fifties, his eyes glistening with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

Exhausted from hours of labor, the baby's mother, Martha, wore a tired but contented smile. The ordeal had taken an immense toll, lasting five arduous hours before the baby finally emerged into the world.

Albert, the newborn's father, was a wealthy merchant who had spent years fervently praying for an offspring. Just one child was all he had yearned for, and he had beseeched the Gods night after night. Thousands of silvers had been offered to various temples, and countless fertility medicines had been tried, all to no avail.

At 52 years old, Albert understood that time was running out for him and his 45-year-old wife, Martha. Their chances of parenthood seemed to be diminishing by the day.

When hope was dwindling, a screeching owl ventured into their room. Known as the harbinger of death and ill omen, Martha recognized the bird as a creature associated with Hades.

Instead of shooing it away, she offered it a piece of fruit and advised Albert to show respect, as to anger such a creature might incur the wrath of a God.

As it turned out, Martha did indeed become pregnant, and after nine months, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Time had flowed by, and months had slipped away since the birth of the baby. Now, the child had progressed from an infant to an active crawler, eagerly exploring his surroundings and reaching out to touch anything that piqued his curiosity.

"Who would've thought that Hades would answer our prayers of all Gods?" Albert mused as he cradled the newborn in his arms.

"I'm not entirely surprised. We've lived our lives as merchants, and he is the God of wealth. In a way, we've followed his practices." Martha responded with a knowing smile.

Albert shifted the conversation. "On a different note, have you noticed that our son hardly ever cries compared to other babies his age?"

"Perhaps our son, Bennet, is just a brave child," Martha answered, gently taking Bennet from his father's embrace.

"Also, have you observed how intently he gazes at books? It's as if he's reading them," Albert pointed out, following his wife.

Martha chuckled. "Don't be silly, my dear. I know you're proud of Bennet, but what you're saying is impossible. Maybe he's just copying your expression when you're reading."

Bennet's room awaited, and Martha placed the baby into his crib. She leaned in to kiss him. "Good night, my little one."

Albert reluctantly left the room, his heart swelling with affection for his newborn son.

"I can't believe Albert noticed that I can read. That old man is very observant. I'll have to be more careful next time," Bennet whispered to himself.

Jiro had embraced the identity of Bennet, a name symbolizing "blessed." However, he struggled with acting like an infant, even attempting to cry like one but sounding more like a bleating goat than a weeping child, and no tears falling at all.

During his rare moments of solitude, Bennet immersed himself in reading various books and newspapers. Through these, he learned about the state of the world he now inhabited.

Nearly 40% of the world lay under the control of pirates. For centuries, the government had struggled to contain its reign of terror, and Bennet was taken aback by the sheer brutality these criminals displayed.

"Though pirates are commonly associated with criminal activities, this level of violence is beyond anything I anticipated. It's starkly different from the world of One Piece that I envisioned," Bennet pondered aloud.

Yet, there was no mention of devil fruits or any fruits that bestowed supernatural powers. This meant that the Goro Goro No Mi fruit he'd dreamt of attaining was seemingly unattainable in this realm.

"I wished for a world like One Piece," Bennet pondered in his thoughts.

Turning his attention to the mirror, he examined his reflection closely.

"Silver-white hair," he mused aloud.

"At least my eyes are blue," he reassured himself, finding solace in this small detail.

"Born into a merchant family in a world of pirates, and with distinctive features," Bennet muttered, a sense of helplessness settling over him.

He couldn't shake off the feeling that his unique appearance might make him a target for danger, the grim reality sunk in: Bennet was trapped in a ruthless world, and the prospect of another life filled with suffering loomed over him once again.

"Ahh, it seems like I've been scammed," Bennet muttered, his voice choked with emotion as the first real tear of his existence fell.