December 1, 1473 of the Sea Circle Calendar — Baron Sky Island, New World.
Charlotte Linlin's due date was approaching fast, but the iron-bellied warrior queen showed no signs of slowing down. Despite her large belly, she was still more than ready to throw hands at any moment, as if pregnancy was just a minor inconvenience.
"Brother Brook! Quit fiddling with those Devil Fruits!" Linlin burst into Brook's quarters like a gust of wind. "Let's head down to Doragonzo Island. Tell Rocky and his three giant comrades to prepare. We've got to be back before the Elbaf Winter Solstice Festival!"
Though heavily pregnant, Linlin moved like a hurricane. The Winter Solstice Ceremony was held on December 22nd, and even flying from Ballon Island would take several days. That left barely a week for rest after childbirth.
Linlin's monstrous constitution could handle it, sure—but what about the baby?
Thankfully, the Hell Pirates had full control of the Golden Island, a sky vessel gliding steadily toward the Land of Giants. With minimal turbulence, advanced ship stabilization, and a seasoned doctor like Crocus—who had eaten the Heal-Heal Fruit—on board, Brook wasn't too worried.
Certainly a better situation than poor Portgas D. Ace. That kid was born on Baterilla Island in the South Blue, and his mother died shortly after labor. Ace had to survive a bumpy, long-distance trip with Vice Admiral Garp, rocking endlessly on a warship back to Foosha Village in the East Blue. Raised by a crew of burly Marines? The fact Ace made it out okay was a miracle—and a testament to his Pirate King bloodline.
Back then, they didn't even have seastone-inlaid warships to cross the Calm Belt. Who knew how long they drifted before reaching safe waters?
By the time Garp handed Ace over to Dadan, the kid had grown enough to crawl and sprout a head full of hair. That voyage wasn't short.
If Ace could handle that journey as a newborn, then surely the child of Brook and Charlotte Linlin—a kid born from death and destruction—would be even tougher. Brook refused to believe otherwise.
"No need to worry," Brook replied with a calm smile. "I already ordered them to return to Elbaf two days ago. They won't be joining us this time—probably lining up to welcome us instead."
After training under Elbaf's ancient combat arts at Rocky Mountain, Brook and his crew had turned to Vegapunk for enhancement potions to push their power and potential to the next level. Of course, that kind of shortcut might come at the cost of reduced lifespan. Vegapunk still needed to collect long-term data—these were, after all, the first Titan-class test subjects.
Still, the gamble seemed to be paying off.
Rocky, now brimming with ambition and raw might, had gone home with three other upgraded giants. Brook wasn't sure how many radical giants Rocky could rally, but among the Elbaf elite, strength spoke louder than words. Roccurs current combat level was likely on par with the legendary Dorry and Brogy.
And unlike the outdated Elbaf warriors, Rocky and his crew were decked out in gleaming alloy gear forged by Vegapunk—axes, shields, and swords that doubled their destructive potential.
They'd returned to Elbaf not just as warriors, but as heroes with wealth and tech. A perfect combination to lure the younger generation.
Money solves most problems, after all.
And the Hell Pirates had plenty of it.
If the stubborn elders in Elbaf dared stand against Linlin, Brook had no problem letting Rocky clean house. Then, all he needed to do was support Rocky as the new King of Giants, placing Elbaf firmly under his control.
"You're amazing, Brother Brook," Linlin beamed. "With you around, there's nothing to worry about!"
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at her husband. Since becoming his woman, her days had been smooth sailing. Eat, drink, fight, grow stronger, raise their Cake Island Kingdom... What more could she ask for?
Well, perhaps to bear ten—or maybe a hundred—of Brook's children, she mused with a shy blush.
"We're family," Brook said softly. "Your dreams are mine to fulfill. It's my job to make you happy."
He set down the Devil Fruit in his hand and gently pressed his ear to her belly. Multiple strong heartbeats pulsed beneath his cheek.
Twins. Healthy and vigorous. Whether boys or girls, Brook vowed to train them into mighty warriors who'd make the world tremble.
Satisfied, Linlin skipped off to find something delicious to eat. She didn't need to worry about a thing. Brook had everything covered. The giants would welcome her. Their family's future was secured.
But as the door closed behind her, Brook's smile slowly faded.
He turned back to the five Devil Fruits laid out on his desk and muttered darkly, "World Government... Navy... You bastards call these Devil Fruits?"
Despite capturing several powerful enemies from the Devil Fruit Unit, Brook felt like he'd been short-changed. These five were bottom of the barrel.
—Bird-Bird Fruit: Model Chicken-Foot Basin —Bird-Bird Fruit: Model Gallic Black Chicken —Stick-Stick Fruit —Dog-Dog Fruit: Model Western Hound — Bull Fruit
Four Zoan-types and one Paramecia. None of them impressive.
The Stick-Stick Fruit had some potential. Like the String-String Fruit or Chain-Chain Fruit, it allowed the user to conjure items—but only wooden sticks. Still, paired with Armament Haki, the sticks could be hardened into deadly weapons. A decent ability for the right user.
But the bird models? Completely unimpressive. Neither could fly—just glide awkwardly with limited wing flaps.
Then there was the Dog Fruit. Anyone who ate it became pathologically submissive—a groveling servant with no ambition. A terrible curse for any strong-willed pirate.
And the Bull Fruit... a bizarre one. Eating it supposedly turned users into eccentric dandies with strong homoerotic tendencies. Comparable to the infamous Teddy Fruit, it was more of a personality-changer than a power enhancer.
Brook had zero interest in these Fruits. He handed them over to Stussy for auction, as bounty rewards, or sent them to Vegapunk for experimentation. No way was he keeping that garbage around.
Still, one thought lingered in his mind...
That damn Rocks has been too quiet lately. What's that old ghost plotting?
A grin slowly crept back onto Brook's face.
Maybe I should sell him these Devil Fruits... for a nice price.
No—he immediately shook his head.
We don't help the enemy. Hell Pirates don't need his money.
But what if he disguised the Fruits? Make the abilities seem powerful... then feed them to Rocks' most promising officers?
That would cripple their growth and tack on the Sea Curse weakness. With one move, he could ruin a future powerhouse and cap their potential permanently.
-------------------
Brook paced in thought, weighing the feasibility of his plan. It wasn't easy. None of the current powerhouses had consumed a Devil Fruit yet. Most of them were too cautious—they wouldn't just eat a random fruit without knowing its exact ability.
Unless the Devil Fruit offered overwhelming temptation or its power was already identified, setting a trap would be nearly impossible.
To make matters worse, Rocks had also begun hunting down Devil Fruit users. If he succeeded in turning all his officers into enhanced Devil Fruit warriors, the Hell Pirates could be in for real trouble.
What Brook didn't know was that Rocks was currently forcing his officers through brutal training regimens. These unruly pirates, who once took pride in their independence, now harbored growing resentment toward their captain.
Worse still, Rocks had his eyes on the rare Devil Fruits stored in the Valley of the Gods—fruits he intended to reserve strictly for his top brass. There was no way he'd fall for Brook's bait-and-switch scheme.
But even with Rocks cracking the whip, his officers had already hit their limits. Their strength was bottlenecked. No amount of hellish training would let them catch up to monsters like Redfield and Newgate.
Every era has its chosen few—natural-born prodigies that outshine the rest no matter how hard others train. These officers lacked both Conqueror's Haki and top-tier Devil Fruits. They could never hope to rival the Four Yamas of the Hell Pirates.
Ironically, that only made them more desperate to get their hands on similar unstoppable abilities. Yet Rocks' excessive training did little but fuel their complaints and dissatisfaction.
Back on his ship, Brook handed over one Paramecia-type and two Zoan-type Devil Fruits to Vegapunk for experimentation. With that, two major research projects began: the development of artificial Devil Fruits and Devil Fruit weaponry.
He entrusted the remaining two fruits to Stussy. He explained his scheme to trick the Rocks Pirates, then told her to handle it however she liked—whether for recruitment or as a reward. If it worked, great. If not, no loss.
With a confident grin, Stussy patted her chest and declared, "Leave it to me." The gesture, of course, earned her an impromptu technical guidance session with Brook.
Stussy, after all, hailed from a rare and nearly extinct race—the Ice Witch Clan. Their unique bloodline granted longevity and a frozen aging process, with lifespans reaching up to two hundred years. Not quite on par with the Giants, who lived for centuries more, but still far beyond the average human.
Later, she lay in Brook's arms, too weak to move but still smiling faintly.
"Brother Brook... I might be pregnant."
Brook blinked. Then froze. Then immediately placed his head against her stomach with childlike excitement.
"How long?!"
"Over a year already," she whispered. "I think this might be the first Ice Witch pregnancy ever mentioned in the historical records of the Tree of Knowledge."
"Over a year?!" Brook pulled back in shock. "Why isn't your belly showing? Linlin's due in ten months!"
"I forgot to tell you... Our gestation period is ten years. One year equals one month in human terms."
Stussy clung to him tightly, her voice trembling. She feared Brook would reject her now. The Ice Witch pregnancy rate was abysmally low, and success was a miracle in itself.
"Ten years...? Even Nezha wasn't pregnant for ten years! He was born in three! Ace didn't even make it to two!"
But Brook quickly composed himself and smiled gently.
"It doesn't matter. I'll wait. You just need to be careful from now on. I'll assign others to help with your work."
Hearing that, Stussy's eyes sparkled.
"Don't underestimate me, Brother Brook. We Ice Witches may not match Linlin's monstrous physique, but we're not weaklings either. I can still handle the affairs of the Hell Pirates."
Brook chuckled. "You don't want to lose your job, huh?"
Stussy giggled, then leaned in to whisper something mischievous in his ear.
Can we still play our 'games' for the next few years?
Brook's eyes gleamed. Oh, she really didn't want to give up that role...
Good news always lifts the spirit.
It would probably take another year or two before her belly even started to swell. And Brook—of all people—never expected that his daughter might surpass even Nezha.
By the way, Ice Witch births had a 90% probability of being daughters. They also only ever had one child per pregnancy. The racial trait was oddly similar to the Kuja of Amazon Lily, who gave birth only to girls.
Still... ten years?
Wouldn't that mean no intimacy with his precious green tea wife for a decade?
Brook paused. Stussy was his favorite after all—refined, charming, deceptively sweet. But he quickly shook off his frustration. A real man could endure. And besides, she was suffering too. He had to protect her.
Still... just one child, thank you very much. Ten years was pushing it. Now he finally understood why people like Li Jing might've had issues with Nezha—it had been three years! But his? A decade. Thankfully, he still had Linlin... and Angel...
No wonder the Ice Witch Clan was nearly extinct. Even the Celestial Dragons were scrambling to obtain one of them. To them, having a single Ice Witch woman in the family was like owning a living treasure.
And after robbing Punk Hazard, Brook had already set his eyes on bigger targets—like the Valley of the Gods and even Marijoa itself.
How many rare races had the Celestial Dragons enslaved? How many innocent lives had they crushed?
Brook clenched his fists. These pig-faced nobles had to pay.
The pirate's justice burned hotter than any Admiral's.
If not for the eerie cold winds swirling around him, and the vengeful ghosts constantly flying in his wake, Brook might've convinced even himself that he was a hero.
In the Hell Pirates' training ground, ghostly generals trained a group of newcomers, including Lunarians and Komainu warriors. Redfield had overseen a brutal lightning training session just the day before.
Tianmulan of the Three-Eyed Tribe stood beside Brook, silently recording combat data. Her focus was absolute, her intellect razor-sharp. She was developing another battle strength enhancement plan.
This brilliant three-eyed girl was now Vegapunk's assistant and deputy director of the Tree of Knowledge. Her mind impressed even the top professors of the world's most prestigious library.
Even Vegapunk himself had praised her.
"She's capable of tracking at least one-tenth of my thought processes," he once said. "A rare, promising mind."
Tianmulan was now helping him decode and translate the full schematics of the ancient weapon, Pluton.
But it was a long road ahead. Brook's resources still fell short of the World Government's centuries-old foundation. Materials, technology, and infrastructure—he lacked all three.
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