After instructing Enel to release a thunderclap with his Rumble-Rumble Fruit every hour as a signal, Buggy and the crew guided the Splendor into the mists of the Devil's Triangle. Meanwhile, Enel hovered outside, floating freely in the air.
Inside the fog, the scene was not as suffocating as the mist they had experienced before. Visibility stretched out for a hundred meters or so—enough to see clearly. Yet the sky above was like a shroud of gray cloth, blanketing everything in gloom. There was no sunlight, and the outside world was cut off entirely. No directions could be discerned, and the log pose was useless.
Compared to the last fog they had braved, this was easier to handle. The crew exhaled in relief—at least it wasn't the suffocating nightmare they had feared.
But there was no way to know where Brook might be. So Buggy gave the only order possible:
"Straight ahead. Keep moving. We'll find him."
Time passed quickly. Half a day went by. They hadn't seen Brook or his ship—only drifting fragments of wrecks, silent reminders of the Triangle's victims. The atmosphere was suffocatingly lonely. No birds, no fish, no sound but their own creaking ship.
Just as impatience began to creep into the crew, a voice suddenly pierced the fog.
It was singing.
Everyone except Buggy froze in shock. Jessica clutched her chest, her face pale. But Buggy's lips curled into a smile.
Finally. We've found him.
Through the haze, a black silhouette approached. As it drew closer, the crew saw what it was: a decrepit pirate ship, weathered by countless years at sea. Its timbers groaned, its sails were in tatters, but from it came that eerie song.
When it drifted past the Splendor, Buggy saw him—a tall skeleton in a tattered suit, holding a chipped porcelain teacup, gazing calmly at them.
Jessica gasped, her voice trembling.
"Captain… what is that? A skeleton? With a teacup? That can't be… is that a ghost?"
Her whole body shivered, fear written across her face.
Buggy threw his head back and laughed.
"Don't be afraid! He's no ghost. He's a Devil Fruit user—and our target. He's the man I came here to find. And more than that, he has a deep connection to Laboon."
"What?! Captain, you came here… for this skeleton? A skeleton can eat a Devil Fruit? And what's this about Laboon?"
Jessica's fear melted into confusion.
Buggy waved it off. "Once we're aboard, he'll tell you himself. For now, we can't waste time. His ship's drifting past us already."
Kuro frowned nervously. "Captain… you really want us to board that thing? Isn't it dangerous?"
"Of course. We're going abroad. With this many of us, what's there to fear? Even if it's a ghost ship."
"Hahaha! Kuro, relax. With the captain and us here, what could happen?"
"Cousin, I wanna see the ghost too!"
"Yeah, let's go. I've never seen a ghost in my life."
"There's no such thing as ghosts. Just as Captain said—it must be a Devil Fruit ability."
"Then let's go!"
The crew's curiosity outweighed their fear. They wanted to see for themselves.
Buggy grabbed Jessica and soared up onto Brook's ship. The others followed, dragging Kuro along. Iceburg alone stayed behind—he had to remain at the helm to keep the Splendor close.
As Buggy landed, the skeleton slowly rose to his full height. By the time all of them had stepped aboard, his skull seemed almost to smile.
"Good day!" Brook said cheerfully. "My apologies for the fright just now—I forgot my manners. It's been… who knows how many years since I've seen the living. Nothing here but ghost ships, ghost ships, and more ghost ships. Frightful, isn't it? But please, don't be shy! Come inside, let's chat properly."
Jessica's eyes went wide. "Captain… It's talking. The skeleton is talking."
The others shared the same mix of shock and curiosity. A living skeleton was strange enough—but one that spoke?
Brook adjusted his ragged suit with a gentleman's air, polished his worn shoes, and tipped his head politely toward Jessica.
"My, my! Such a beautiful young lady. Alas, far too young. I fall head over heels whenever I meet a pretty woman. But it's an honor to meet you, little miss. Yohohoho!"
He hadn't crossed the line—perhaps only because Jessica was still too young. Had she been older, he would surely have asked about her undergarments, true to his eccentric nature.
Buggy stepped forward. "You're Brook, aren't you?"
Brook tilted his skull curiously. "Ah? Forgive me, but who might you be? How do you know my name? After all… I'm nothing but bones now."
Buggy didn't answer. Instead, he cut straight to the heart of it.
"Do you still remember Laboon? It's because of him that we came to find you."
At that name, Brook froze. The cheerful energy drained from him, replaced by a heavy, aching silence. His empty eye sockets seemed to grow deeper.
"Laboon… how is he?"
The words were hoarse, as if dragged up from the bottom of his soul.
"He's still waiting for you. Every day, he slams his head against Reverse Mountain, trying to break it down so he can reach you."
"What?! That fool! That foolish, foolish whale! How could he… how is he now? Please, tell me—what's become of him?"
Brook's skeletal face twisted with anguish. It seemed as though tears should have flowed from his empty sockets, his trembling voice thick with guilt.
"Crocus, the old man, has been caring for him," Buggy replied softly. "Laboon has only some surface wounds. Nothing life-threatening."At the mention of Crocus, Brook stiffened. His voice lowered, full of distant emotion. He remembered the old lighthouse keeper—an old friend from another lifetime.