Brook left the North Sea headquarters on Northmarn Island, and only then did Belo Betty and Smoker finally learn the truth.
The man in the mask was Brook.
A pirate overlord, the ruler who had seized the world's balance and built the Universal Government.
The most famous, most terrifying existence of this era.
For Smoker, it was shocking, but it didn't shake his resolve.
His dream was still the same, to become a "navy man" who protected civilians under his own sense of justice. Whether that navy belonged to the World Government or the Universal Government didn't matter. He would still do what he believed was right.
Even if it meant disobeying orders.
He was destined to be a headache for someone, anywhere.
Besides, Brook had dragged him here personally. Even if he caused trouble, people would probably think twice before crushing him outright.
So Brook did something even more ruthless.
He turned around and shoved Smoker, the Logia user of the Smoke Smoke Fruit, straight into Sakazuki's hands.
Sakazuki's face didn't change at all, it stayed stiff and cold, like a statue carved from iron.
Brook's meaning was simple.
As long as the brat wasn't beaten to death, train him until he broke.
Smoker's spine went cold.
He suddenly realized the "new navy" he was joining might be worse than the old one.
Then Brook, Mihawk, and Belo Betty rode Quetzalcoatl, crossed the Calm Belt, and returned to the New World.
Back on Ballon Island in the sky, Brook handed Belo Betty over to train with Hancock, Robin, Nika, and the others. After that, he gathered Antonio, Moore Thomas, and Stussy for a serious discussion.
The World Expo.
From planning, to publicity, to execution, everything needed structure. The venue, the schedule, the rules, the rewards, the security, the trade flow, the tournament brackets, the auctions.
Even if the Expo itself was still far away, the World Economic News Agency had to begin the propaganda now.
Antonio and Stussy quickly saw the deeper layer.
"Brother Brook," Antonio said slowly, "you want to use the World Expo to prove the Universal Government's dominance again, but this time, not with war."
Stussy's eyes were calm, sharp.
"Soft power. Economy. Technology. Rare resources. Trade networks. Cultural influence. The World Government loses not only by force, but by comparison."
Brook leaned back, hands behind his head, voice relaxed.
"I don't have a choice."
"I can't kill that old immortal Imu right now."
"So I'll keep growing the Universal Government, and I'll bury him under a mountain of strong people."
Brook had reached a bottleneck. He couldn't leap above Imu in the short term, not without a teacher, not without a new path, not without time.
Imu had lived too long to be surpassed casually.
So Brook would do what he did best.
He would monopolize the next era.
The longer time dragged on, the more the Universal Government would flourish, and the more the World Government would rot, talent drying up, foundations crumbling, fear spreading inward.
Yet the World Government still had depth.
No one knew where they had found this new Admiral candidate, Chiyan Magma, or how they had so quickly bestowed him with a Logia as brutal as the Magma Magma Fruit.
It felt like the World Government's hidden treasury was still moving.
And it made Brook wonder.
Was Imu training new pieces?
After giving Antonio and Stussy the direction, Brook left the details to them. He wasn't interested in micromanaging.
In his hand was a file on Chiyan Magma, including Antonio's analysis of his personality and habits.
Brook sent it to Sakazuki through a Den Den Mushi, then returned to what he enjoyed most.
Teaching.
He trained the new students, pushed Hancock and the others, and then personally drilled the second generation hell level fighters, Hades, Kanna, and the rest.
These brats were trying to break into Admiral candidate territory and claw their way toward the true Admiral level. Recently, they had even been "baptized" by thunder on Thunder God Island.
And still, they were stuck.
Brook frowned.
He had fed them resources, battles, experience, brutal training, and yet they couldn't cross that final ridge.
Was there some invisible balance in the world?
Even old devils like Redfield and Linlin seemed trapped at a certain limit, barely progressing. Their odds of killing an Elder alone were still slim.
And then came the shock that truly caught Brook off guard.
Otohime, carrying the Poseidon bloodline, began to conceive Shirahoshi early, as if her blood itself had decided the timeline.
If Otohime gave birth to a mermaid egg of Poseidon, then who would be the father?
Brook didn't have an answer.
As if that wasn't enough, Dragon called him.
Dragon and Paulina had secretly held a simple wedding in Foosha Village.
That meant Luffy might be born early.
Brook had twisted the world too hard, and now the world was twisting back.
Fated lines were breaking, bending, snapping into new shapes.
Prophecies were no longer reliable.
Poseidon might not be born on Fishman Island. The Sea King might be born in the New World instead.
Toki's fate had changed. Momonosuke would never arrive. Roger wasn't dead, and was still raising Ace.
Zunesha now obeyed the orders of Brook's sixth son, Nika.
The three former Admirals served under Brook's banner.
The world had become unrecognizable, and Imu's World Government had been reduced to a level it had never experienced before.
If the Sun God Nika Fruit truly had a will, it should have fled screaming into Brook's pocket long ago and begged to be eaten by the sixth prince.
Brook understood something simple.
Once the World Expo propaganda spread, the "major timeline" of the world was already gone.
Even if Shirahoshi and Luffy were born early, it wouldn't change Brook's future plans. Their growth could never keep pace with the final war.
Brook only needed two things.
Find the Sun God Nika Fruit and the Op Op Fruit early.
Heal his soul completely.
Then he would finally have the confidence to go to war with Imu.
…
The promotion and preparation for the World Expo lasted more than a year, enough time for the entire world to be drowned in anticipation.
During that time, Sakazuki also learned Chiyan Magma thoroughly.
They even clashed once.
Not long after that, Otohime gave birth.
It wasn't a child.
It was an egg.
A mermaid egg, golden with a soft pink hue, like dawn trapped inside a shell.
Its birth tore away too much of Otohime's vitality. The once fierce mermaid warrior became fragile, her body thin and weak, as if a strong wind could break her.
Ariel and Brook were both pained by it.
Otohime put on a pure gold ring early, completely withdrawing from the ranks of fighters, stepping away from the second generation of hell.
With her Poseidon bloodline drained, Otohime's strength fell even lower than an ordinary human's.
And yet, her special Observation Haki sublimated instead, becoming even sharper, even deeper, slightly surpassing Ariel's.
Her voice carried a mother's warmth now, intimate and gentle, as if her entire existence had changed.
But the egg…
The egg grew larger every day.
Its surface shifted, its patterns changing as if it were alive and thinking.
In just one month, it grew until it was almost as tall as Otohime herself.
If it continued like this, then when Shirahoshi was born…
It might emerge as a giant baby.
Brook stared at it, silent.
So this was Poseidon.
An ancient weapon.
Not a title, not a myth, not a line in a prophecy.
A living being born to command the gigantic Sea Kings of the deep.
------------
Because Otohime had given birth to a mermaid egg, and because the World Expo was drawing closer by the day, Fishman Island finally sent a royal delegation into the New World.
King Neptune came in person.
He led his guards to Doragonzo Island, just to see the mermaid mother and daughter he had been unable to forget.
For Ariel and Otohime, Neptune had never taken a wife. Year after year, his ministers scolded him for being irresponsible, for leaving the royal bloodline hanging by a thread. Even the Dragon Palace could not keep defending him forever.
Neptune regretted missing Ariel once. After meeting Otohime, his heart had stirred again, foolish and hopeful, but fate refused him a second time.
Otohime had already given birth to a mermaid egg.
Neptune tasted heartbreak again, bitter and familiar.
This time, after he met them and confirmed everything with his own eyes, he decided to stop resisting his ministers. He would return to Fishman Island, accept their arrangement, and marry a mermaid girl as queen. The royal family needed an heir, whether his heart liked it or not.
Along with Neptune's delegation came a new batch of promising young talents from Fishman Island.
Among them was one fishman child who stood out immediately.
A saddleback grouper fishman with a body so sturdy it looked like it had been carved from stone. He was three to four meters tall, thick-limbed and broad shouldered, the kind of presence that made adults instinctively step aside.
And yet he was only seven or eight years old.
When Brook saw the golden-haired fishman kid with twin pigtails and jagged features, he recruited him without hesitation.
He brought the child into the training class and accepted him as a student on the spot.
His name was Jack.
Sometimes a little snot hung under his nose, and the sight made Brook feel strangely nostalgic. It reminded him of that honest, empty headed kind of stubbornness, like a smaller version of Weevil.
Brook didn't mind.
Loyalty was hard to buy.
Endurance was hard to teach.
And Jack had both.
Brook planned to raise him into the shield of Team Nika, a meat wall that could take hits and keep standing, no matter what the world threw at him.
After all, in another future, "Drought" Jack would become one of the Beasts Pirates' pillars. Even at twenty eight, he would hold a bounty of one billion Berries. People loved to joke that nine hundred million of it came from ivory, but jokes didn't change facts.
Jack could fight.
He could endure.
He could clash with the two kings of Zou, Cat Viper and Inuarashi, for five days and five nights.
Even if the final victory came from Caesar's poison gas, Jack's courage and loyalty were the real foundation of his name.
…
As the World Expo spread across the seas, more forces began to move.
Powerful governments, wealthy families, underground brokers, and ambitious organizations all sent representatives into the New World, hungry for the pure gold ring.
Some Celestial Dragons even arranged CP agents in secret, planting them inside the teams of member nations. They came with abundant supplies, polished identities, and silent orders.
Those who lacked wealth and rare treasures but still craved immortality had only one option.
They would enter the martial arts tournament.
It was their single chance to seize a pure gold ring with their fists.
…
North Sea, Mignon Island.
In a remote mountain area, violence echoed through a shabby camp.
A middle aged man was beating a boy of twelve or thirteen, venting his frustrations like an animal.
"Drake! Fight back!" the man roared. "You pathetic coward!"
He showed no mercy just because the boy was his son. With a long knife in hand, he stabbed at the boy's vital points, forcing him to flinch, stumble, and cry.
The boy begged through tears.
It only made the man angrier.
Two cold flashes crossed the air.
An X shaped scar opened on the boy's chin.
"You trash!" the man spat. "Get out of my sight!"
He kicked the boy away with disgust.
His name was Dies Barrels.
Once, he had been a Marine captain in the North Sea, stationed at a branch base.
Then the Universal Government invaded.
He lost everything.
Barrels had ambition, but not the kind that survived inside discipline. He didn't want to retreat to the Grand Line. He didn't want to crawl back into the World Government's hierarchy and wait for orders like a dog.
So he became what he hated.
A pirate.
He formed his own crew and tried to carve out a new life with blood and fear.
And because he hated his own weakness, he tried to forge his son into something strong.
But his son was soft.
His son still spoke about becoming a righteous Marine.
To Barrels, it was unbearable.
How could a man who had tasted the freedom of piracy return to the miserable chains of a branch captain?
He grabbed a newspaper from the ground, the promotional issue from the Economic News Agency, and stared at it with feverish eyes.
"A pure gold ring…"
His throat tightened.
"What a damn treasure…"
He wanted to participate in the World Expo too, but what did he have?
A small pirate crew hiding in the mountains.
No money.
No influence.
No rare items.
No top tier Devil Fruit.
Not even a decent ship.
Then he saw his son staggering away like a beaten dog, and his rage flared again.
Useless.
All of it was useless.
At that moment, two former Marines who had followed Barrels into piracy sprinted toward him, nearly tripping over themselves in excitement.
"Captain! Captain!! Look!"
One of them, still wearing a tattered Marine cloak out of habit, held something up with shaking hands.
"We found a Devil Fruit!"
Barrels' eyes snapped to it.
Heart shaped.
Red.
The moment he recognized it, his pupils shrank to pinpoints.
His breath caught.
These idiots didn't know what they were holding, but Barrels did.
The World Government had once offered five billion Berries for it.
The Op Op Fruit.
Barrels snatched it out of the man's hands and stared at it like it was a piece of fate.
Then his gaze slid to his subordinates, and something cold surfaced behind his eyes.
This secret could not leak.
Not even a little.
He placed a hand on the shoulder of the man who had presented it, smiling warmly, almost kindly.
"Who else saw you get this fruit?" Barrels asked, voice gentle.
The pirate beamed, eager for praise.
"Just us two, Captain! Nobody else knows yet!"
Barrels' smile widened.
"That means nobody else knows…"
His knife flashed.
Both men froze mid breath.
Hands flew to their throats as blood burst through their fingers.
Their eyes widened, full of disbelief, staring at the man they respected most.
Why?
They had been loyal.
They had delivered the fruit immediately.
They had done everything right.
They died without hearing an answer.
In the distance, the orange haired boy Barrels had called "Drake" watched the scene in frozen shock.
His body trembled.
Is this… my father?
The gentle Marine he remembered from childhood had become a monster.
Beating his own son was one thing, but killing former Marine comrades over a Devil Fruit?
Drake's stomach twisted.
He didn't dare breathe too loudly.
He retreated, step by step, farther and farther, until the camp noise dulled behind him.
Then he turned and ran.
Trembling, terrified, and fast.
Behind him, Barrels threw his head back and laughed, eyes burning as if the heavens had dropped a treasure into his lap.
A miracle.
A turning point.
A lucky break.
And he had no idea what kind of blood stained storm that fruit would bring down on his head.
.....
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