Brook stood by the viewing window of the Umi family's underwater transport ship and let out a quiet sigh.
Before Seastone battleships ever existed, the Umi family had already dominated the underground shipping world. Their specialized vessels and mastery over deep sea currents were no joke.
"Lord Brook," Umit said respectfully, standing a step behind him like a shadow, "at our current speed, we will reach Okazuru Island before the duel between Navy Hunter Mihawk and the great swordsman Ito Ittosai."
"There's no rush." Brook's lips curled. "If Mihawk gets injured and then the Navy starts hunting him, it might actually be easier for me to recruit him."
He did not bother hiding it.
He had come into the Grand Line for one reason, Mihawk.
If the Three Eyed Raven Bran had not given his prediction, Brook would never have stepped into Imu's territory so casually.
"That guy is really lucky," Umit muttered, and the jealousy in his eyes flickered for an instant before he forced it down.
Anyone personally recruited by Brook was almost guaranteed to become a high level cadre of the Hell Guild.
And high level cadres received rewards.
Like pure gold rings.
The thought made Umit's envy burn hotter.
"Yohoho." Brook chuckled. "Umit, if you can find the Gum Gum Fruit and the Op Op Fruit, you can get what you want too."
Brook's tone was light, but the meaning was clear.
He had already lifted the Umi family onto the throne of the underground shipping industry. That alone was a massive favor.
If they wanted a pure gold ring, they would need achievements worthy of it.
Even Umid had not earned one.
Even if that meant watching Umid grow old and die.
"Thank you, Master Brook." Umit straightened immediately, voice firm. "I will work hard."
He had known for a long time that Brook had placed bounties on those two Devil Fruits, and he had searched relentlessly, but luck was not something you could force.
Brook glanced sideways, amused.
"By the way, I still don't know where the Gum Gum Fruit is." He paused, then added casually, "But I can tell you this. The Op Op Fruit is almost certain to be reborn in the North Sea. Work hard."
Umit's breathing tightened.
Brook had never revealed that information to the other affiliated forces.
First, because he did not want everyone staring at the North Sea while neglecting Devil Fruit collection elsewhere.
Second, because a single leak could draw Imu and the World Government like sharks to blood.
Right now, only the core cadres and squads of the Hell Pirates knew.
Moore Thomas' Economic News Agency was the main force searching for those two fruits.
"Thank you for your trust, sir!" Umit's eyes shone with excitement. "I will do my utmost to deliver the Op Op Fruit to you!"
With that hint alone, he felt like he had already stepped one foot into the inner circle.
If he found the Op Op Fruit, he could become Brook's core subordinate, like Moore Thomas.
Immortality.
The peak of the world.
After dismissing Umit, Brook returned to his own work.
He continued developing the power of the Yomi Fruit.
No matter how much time passed, the urge only grew stronger. He wanted to open the gate again. He wanted to enter that world and see it with his own eyes.
Two years had gone by.
That God of Hell should not be bored enough to keep staring at a bunch of ants forever.
Most likely, it was sleeping again, just like before.
"My soul has already left my body," Brook murmured. "It's starting to loosen the chains connecting it to flesh."
If the soul that held the Yomi Fruit could move independently, he could slip into Underworld Hell quietly and explore.
Brook had already thrown away the old idea that the Yomi Fruit could only trigger once.
If he developed it far enough, his soul could enter again.
And maybe come back again.
Still, he prepared for the worst.
The soul that carried the Dark Dark Fruit had already copied Brook's consciousness. If the soul carrying the Yomi Fruit died in hell, Brook would lose that soul and lose the Yomi Fruit ability entirely.
Living in this world with only the soul that held the Dark Dark Fruit meant he might never get a second chance to explore.
And his overall strength would drop sharply.
The power of the Yomi Fruit made up a huge portion of Brook's combat strength.
He even wondered, if the soul tied to the Yomi Fruit truly died, would the Yomi Fruit be reborn somewhere in the world?
But even if it respawned and was found again, splitting his soul again and holding two Devil Fruits would be nearly impossible.
Exploring Underworld Hell was a gamble with everything on the table.
Brook shook his head and laughed at himself.
"Forget it. Forget it." His eyes narrowed. "My soul still hasn't fully broken free, I still haven't killed Imu, and I haven't unified this world."
Thinking about exploring Underworld Hell right now was too far ahead.
He could not even beat Imu yet, and he was already dreaming about that abyss.
It was a big step… and nonsense.
Still, one thing kept tugging at him.
That soul type dark energy attack left behind by the God of Hell.
Brook hated it.
Brook craved it.
His two wounded souls had not fully recovered, but the soul carrying the Yomi Fruit had gained something priceless from that high level power.
It was like copying the outline of a tiger and using his own energy to imitate it, refining it again and again, making it sharper, purer, closer.
Maybe one day, his own energy could clash with Imu's destructive power.
Given enough time to heal and cultivate that advanced dark energy, surpassing Imu was not a question, it was a matter of when.
If his fruits energy reached even half the might of that high level power, he would win.
No, even one tenth might be enough.
Four days passed.
The special underwater ship carried Brook and Umit from Doragonzo Island all the way to Fishman Island, then through the Red Line, past Sabaody, Water Seven, Holy Poplar Island, and finally into the waters of the Kingdom of Sizkael.
After two days spent stabilizing and developing the Yomi Fruit, Brook arrived in this sea area the day before the duel.
From here, they needed to surface and take an ordinary boat to Okazuru Island, but they would reach Hachimangu Square well before the fight.
Brook could even take a bath, change clothes, taste local delicacies, and buy souvenirs for his children.
Umit, however, did not leave with his transport ship.
Instead, he shamelessly stuck to Brook's side, doing every trivial task.
Paying bills.
Carrying purchases.
Running errands.
Like a loyal servant who never blinked.
Opportunities to follow the boss this closely did not come often. Umit intended to seize every second of it, become familiar to Brook, increase his presence, and carve his name into Brook's awareness.
Maybe, even if he failed to find the Op Op Fruit, he could still step into the Hell Guild's inner circle.
And one day, earn that pure gold ring.
This was not flattery.
This was not bootlicking.
This was solving problems for the boss, answering at his beck and call, devoting oneself until the last breath.
In Umit's mind, it was simple.
This was the shortest route to immortality.
------------
Brook, dressed in a black robe and wearing a smiling mask, strolled through the stalls of Hachimangu Square. The place was packed with people, noisy as a festival, and Brook casually swept his gaze over the crowd, seeing if any promising seedlings stood out.
Behind him, Umit followed like a devoted attendant, yet he still felt a chill crawl across his skin. Even with Brook's aura suppressed to the extreme, it still bled into the world around him.
Then Brook paused.
His head tilted toward the port.
"The momentum shakes the river, the sword intent surges. Blades resonate, and the heart behind them is anything but ordinary."
Only one person could carry a sword presence that sharp.
Dracule Mihawk.
The future greatest swordsman.
The Seven Star Demon Sword in Brook's hand quivered, ugly and eager, as if it wanted to transform into Quetzalcoatl and shoot into the sky to go "teach the kid a lesson."
Brook pressed it down with a thought, and the weapon finally settled, sulking.
"Boss," Umit said quickly, sensing Brook's attention shift, "is that Navy Hunter really that strong? How could he ever compare to you, Lord Red Earl, Lord Shiki, Lord Linlin, Lord Oden, and the other great swordsmen? Even masters like Ashura Doji, Vista, and Koshiro would crush him!"
The flattery came out smooth, practiced, and relentless.
Umit had his reasons.
Among the second generation of Hell from the golden age, who wasn't famous?
Even the less celebrated sword cadres were monsters. Take Ashura Doji, now thirty four. One of Brook's earliest students, already a true great swordsman after years of Hell Guild training. He had even surpassed his father, Ashura Doji Sr.
But Ashura Doji chose to remain a pure swordsman, no Devil Fruit, no shortcuts. That meant he always fell a half step behind the very top, like Hades and Kanna.
Once Abel took a Devil Fruit, it became even more obvious. A Zoan's boosts to strength, endurance, and recovery were simply unfair.
And that reality had started to shake the faith of pure swordsmen like Ashura Doji, Vista, and Koshiro. More and more of them couldn't help wondering if the path of "only the blade" was doomed to lose against those who combined systems.
Roger and Rayleigh were proof that a pure swordsman could still reach terrifying heights, but they also carried the rare blessing of all three types of Haki.
That was not something everyone could copy.
If you wanted to reach the level of Hell Kings, you either needed impossible talent… or you needed something else.
So the swordsmen in the Hell Guild began to look toward Devil Fruits, whether they liked it or not.
Brook listened, then spoke calmly.
"In swordsmanship, Mihawk is the purest person I've ever met."
Umit blinked.
Brook continued, his tone carrying real admiration.
"He was born for the sword. His conviction is so firm that almost no one can match it. He won't be tempted by other systems. He's destined to reach the pinnacle with nothing but his blade."
Brook's eyes narrowed slightly, as if picturing the future.
"He will reach the level of Hell Kings through swordsmanship alone."
That was not exaggeration.
Brook was not praising Mihawk to belittle anyone else, nor did he look down on those who fought with multiple systems. He simply respected people who could dedicate themselves to one thing, then grind it until it became absolute.
Brook himself could never do that.
He wanted swordsmanship.
He wanted Devil Fruit power.
He wanted to push all three types of Haki to the limit.
Others, because of talent and time, became stronger by focusing on one path.
But the Hell Guild had no shortage of either talent or time. Their lifespans were long, absurdly long, long enough to sharpen every weapon in their hands until it reached perfection.
"Being valued by Brook sama is the greatest honor of Mihawk's life," Umit said quickly.
He was still jealous, but he swallowed it.
If Brook was paying attention, then Mihawk was not someone you could casually dismiss.
Umit even began preparing himself to build a relationship with the genius swordsman.
Anyone personally recruited by Brook was destined to become a top powerhouse.
"Yohoho." Brook chuckled. "That one's proud. He might even look down on my invitation."
Brook could already imagine it.
Mihawk's personality was sharp as his blade. If Brook approached him, Mihawk might respond by challenging him and trying to cut him a few times.
Still, Brook's principle had never changed.
If he could not claim a future monster, then he would destroy him.
Even if he had to tie Mihawk up and drag him back, he could not allow a man like that to become a weapon for the World Government.
"How dare he!" Umit's voice turned cold, killing intent leaking out. "My lord is burdened with countless matters, yet still returned to the Grand Line to recruit him personally. If he refuses, then he doesn't deserve to exist in this world!"
To Umit, it was simple.
Brook had spent five or six days of precious time.
If Mihawk refused, then Mihawk would be erased.
Even if Brook let him go, Umit would use his power as an underground emperor to wipe him out afterward.
All it would take was a message back to Doragonzo Island, and the monsters of Hell's second generation would descend like wolves.
Especially the warlike faction led by Princess Hel and Prince Satan.
And among the cadres, Gekko Moria and Bullet were both eager for blood.
Brook waved a hand, amused by Umit's fanaticism.
"Let's go take a look first," Brook said. "I want to see how strong this Navy Hunter really is."
He tossed a small souvenir he had just bought into his sleeve and started walking toward the port.
He intended to meet the young Mihawk first, get a sense of him, then decide how to recruit him after the duel with Ito Ittosai.
Because Brook could already smell it.
This loudly advertised "life and death" challenge reeked of schemes.
The Navy was here.
Pirate hunters were here.
And Mihawk, no matter whether he won or lost, no matter how badly he was injured, would be swarmed the moment the duel ended.
Moore Thomas' intelligence network had confirmed the Navy planned to intervene.
It was the same old play.
Let pirates kill each other, then step in and clean up. Two catches, one net, and the Navy gets to pretend it was all part of their brilliant plan.
The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.
Brook's smile widened beneath the mask.
This time…
they would see who the real oriole was.
.....
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