In the chaotic buffer zone between the territories of the two dominant New World powers and the Navy-Alliance defense line, survival had become nearly impossible. Pirates wandering this volatile sea were caught in a storm of destruction. Overlord Rocks hadn't spared even these scattered territories—he was constantly subduing pirate crews and seizing turf, all while engaging the Navy in relentless skirmishes.
To counter him, the Navy dispatched an elite force into the New World. Two admirals, backed by more than a dozen vice admirals, entrenched themselves along the defensive front, determined to anchor the battlefield in these turbulent waters.
---
"Damn it! We've got no place left to go! Let's head back to Paradise—the New World's a death sentence!"
Inside a dingy bar floating in the chaotic sea, grumbling echoed from table to table. The patrons were all pirates who refused to bow to either of the two great overlords.
"Nah, forget Paradise," one scruffy man muttered. "We should head to the Hell Pirates' territory. I heard you can register in their Pirate Guild. Brook's turf is a damn paradise—booming trade, stable food supply, and no Rocks or Navy crawling up your ass."
The murmurs of agreement grew louder. With the Rocks Pirates dead set on war and the Navy pushing back with full force, many were considering a third option.
Suddenly, the bar's doors burst open.
"Oh no! Oh no! They're here! The Hell Pirates' flying fleet! Golden Island! Golden ship! They've arrived!!"
A panicked lackey stumbled in, breathless and wide-eyed.
A heavy silence fell, followed by a wave of despair. If even Brook's Hell Pirates had come, this chaotic sea would soon be swallowed in a battle between overlords—and the Navy would be right in the middle of it.
"Damn it! These damn warlords, never satisfied! Now they're dragging us into their slaughterhouse!" a rugged pirate captain snapped, slamming his drink down. "Screw this—let's fight 'em!"
His outburst drew mocking laughter and eye-rolls. Picking a fight with Rocks or Brook? That was suicide.
"What are you looking at, huh?! Wanna duel me? I've got a hundred ways to make sure you'll never walk off this island!"
The man's wild eyes were practically glowing red. His nostrils flared with rage as he stood atop a table, screaming at everyone in the room.
"Shut up, clown."
A hulking figure—decked out in clunky, mismatched armor—stepped forward.
"My old man's the boss of this entire port, and you're nothing but hot air!"
He rammed into him like a charging bull, knocking him flat. Before he could recover, the armored brute grabbed him by the throat and began smacking him across the face like a ragdoll.
Chaos erupted. Pirates from every corner of the bar joined in, some out of loyalty, others for fun. Fists flew. Bottles shattered. A proper tavern brawl was underway.
---
Outside, above Golden Island.
"Brother Brook, this island's perfect," said Antonio, flipping through his clipboard. "It's at a major sea current intersection. Great spot for a shipping route hub and a regional base for the Umit family's trade network."
Brook, standing on the deck of the Hell Pirates' flagship, nodded. "Good. Plant the flag. This one's for Kaido and Tiger."
His Observation Haki had scanned the island—no serious threats. It was a great chance for his young warriors to gain real combat experience.
Kaido and Tiger, both now ten years old, had grown tremendously. In the original timeline, Kaido was already the Vodka Kingdom's strongest warrior at this age. Under Brook's guidance, he'd become a beast even earlier.
Without hesitation, Kaido launched himself off the ship, crashing into the ground below with a thunderous shockwave. Tiger, more aquatic by nature, dove into the ocean before bursting onto land, ready to wreck house.
The two tore through pirate dens and underground syndicates like a typhoon. Within minutes, the tallest building in town bore the black-flagged emblem of the Hell Pirates.
Surrender came swift. Local forces, realizing resistance was pointless, threw down their weapons and begged for allegiance. Dozens flocked to join Brook's crew, their fear outweighed by hope for stability.
---
Back aboard the fleet, Antonio burst out of the "Prism Gate" monitoring room with a Den Den Mushi in hand.
"Brother Brook! Call from Rocks! He wants to team up—launch a siege against the Navy!"
Brook raised an eyebrow as the Mushi broadcast Rocks' unmistakably arrogant voice.
"Hahaha! Brook, you're here too? Excellent! The Navy's got a big fish this time—how about we each take one?"
Brook knew exactly what he meant: two admirals, both wielding Mythical Zoan-type Devil Fruits. And both Rocks and Brook possessed the power to plunder those abilities.
"You're getting reckless," Brook warned coolly. "If you keep pushing like this, Mary Geoise will stop turning a blind eye. You'll have the World Government's entire might on your back—including the so-called 'national treasure' of the Celestial Dragons. Especially someone like you… a 'D'."
Brook wasn't planning to get dragged into a war just yet. His long-term vision involved decades of steady expansion. Im, the ghost behind the World Government's eight-hundred-year rule, was no joke. Even with time, Brook wasn't sure he could catch up.
Rocks chuckled.
"So you do know a bit. O'Hara's Poneglyph, right? I heard you swiped it. That means they'll be coming for you too. You sure you want to die quietly?"
Then his voice sharpened.
"Brook, we're both monsters outside the system. Why not flip the damn table and drive those pigs off the throne? Join me—let's tear down the Celestial Dragons together!"
Brook exhaled slowly. Rocks was trying hard to pull him in.
"I'm not joining your main force. But I'll make a move—draw out one of their admirals, keep the Navy split."
He hung up without another word.
Brook had no intention of being part of a full-blown joint operation. At least not openly. If the Celestial Dragons' 'national treasure' was as devastating as rumored, he'd rather stay in the shadows for now.
It was well known the New World was supposed to remain under the World Government's control. No one believed Rocks and Brook would ever truly unite. History showed that dominant Conqueror's Haki users rarely shared power for long. Sooner or later, ambition would tear them apart.
---
Rocks' voice echoed one last time in Brook's mind.
"Being too cautious is just another form of cowardice. The World Government won't fall by itself. We might only get one chance."
Brook smirked.
"I've chosen my target—the Kingdom of Prodence. World Government affiliate. I'll make some noise. You do you."
Brook ended the call and turned toward the horizon. The Prodence had long been a thorn in the New World. Their "King's Punch"—a legendary martial art said to break through fortress walls in a single strike—was their pride.
A technique said to rival the Overlords?
Brook wanted to see it with his own eyes.
----------------------
The mighty airborne fleet of the Hell Pirates surged through the skies, brazenly invading the allied territories. At its heart was Golden Island, resembling a colossal aircraft carrier, guarded on all sides by dozens of flying pirate ships from the Golden Lion's domain. The Golden airship had already landed, its hull gleaming ominously beneath the sun.
Brook stood at the prow, arms folded. "It's strangely quiet without Shakky arguing about logistics. I wonder if she's already dealt with the Kuja and the Amazon Lily situation."
"Brook, is this King's Punch really that strong? Can it compare to Elbaf's martial arts?" Stussy, ever chatty and now temporarily managing the crew's finances, sidled up to him. She was already living up to her reputation as the "Little Merchant."
"I'm not too sure," Brook replied thoughtfully. "It's said to be on par with Elbaf's technique, but the King's Punch has some big drawbacks. The charge time is brutal—an hour of powering up. Great for smashing fortresses, terrible for real-time combat."
Stussy's eyes gleamed. "But if a dozen users charged in advance, couldn't they flatten a small nation in one go?"
She was already scheming. A King's Punch Assault Team would fit nicely alongside the Seastone Rifle Squad, the Swordmaster Samurai Unit, and the Sky Dial Tactical Corps.
Brook chuckled. "You could give it a shot. I heard mastering the King's Punch requires immense physical strength. Start recruiting. Let's see what you can build."
He had no intention of curbing her ambitions—better to support her. What if she really pulled it off? Taking over fortified islands might become a breeze.
"Sky Island still has a few soldier tribes who can shrug off impact dials with bare skin," Stussy mused aloud. "Maybe I'll try grabbing a few hardy races from Linlins Cake Island, too."
Meanwhile, at New World Naval Command, alarms were sounding.
The Hell Pirates had moved deep into the World Government's defensive perimeter. Admiral Coss Davo was on edge. He had already requested urgent reinforcement from Marineford—specifically Kong and a CP0 division. With both the Hell Pirates and the Rocks Pirates launching simultaneous offensives, the Navy was stretched to its limits.
Admiral Hoss had taken Sengoku, Garp, and Zephyr to intercept Rocks. That left Admiral Davo to deal with Brook's airborne armada—with barely any real firepower left under his command.
He clenched his teeth. "Why now? They each have territories to protect. Why attack all at once? Aren't they worried about the rookie overlords and rogue pirates taking advantage?"
A comms officer ran in. "Admiral Davo! The Hell Pirates are targeting the Kingdom of Prodence! Their king is begging for assistance!"
Davo grimaced. Of all places...
Thanks to the Float-Float Fruit, the Hell Pirates could rain down terror from the skies unchecked. "There's no stopping them for now. Let's at least assess the situation."
In truth, Davo had little hope. Most of his Vice-Admirals had been deployed to counter Rocks. All he had left were scraps. He half-hoped Brook would just loot the Prodence and fly off before he even arrived.
---
Over the royal palace of the Kingdom of Prodence, panic reigned.
Ministers and nobles had never seen a pirate ship hovering directly above their palace. Down below, several royal warriors were hopping in place, trying to build up energy in what looked more like a dance routine than a counter-offensive.
"Damn it! The Hell Pirates moved too fast! We need more time to unleash the full might of the King's Punch! Even if it's the Hell Pirates, I swear I could land a blow if I had just twenty more minutes!" King Elizabello roared, sweat flying from his golden crown.
His royal family, known for their immense physical prowess, were all potential users of the King's Punch. But time was not on their side.
"Only half an hour of charging so far. Not enough! Ministers! Stall them!"
The ministers looked at one another in despair. Stall... flying pirate ships?
They ordered their soldiers to fire cannons upward, hoping the falling shrapnel wouldn't do more damage to their own palace than to the enemy.
Up above, Brook glanced down. "No need to activate the Overlord Heaven-Shaking Formation. Shiki, Redfield, handle the soldiers. Be careful—the King's Punch can still hurt if it catches you off guard."
Golden Lion Shiki and Redfield nodded. With a mere wave of their Haki-infused presence, a wave of overwhelming Conqueror's Haki surged downward.
In seconds, the palace grounds were covered in unconscious soldiers, dropping like wheat under a scythe. Only a handful of strong-willed generals remained standing, barely.
King Elizabello trembled, still trying to charge his strike.
"My lords! W-We have no intention of resisting! Please, name your terms!" the Left Minister stammered, stepping forward with shaking legs.
"Stop charging the King's Punch, or you'll die," Redfield said flatly. "We don't want your treasure. We want the technique. The King's Punch training manual. Resist, and this will get ugly."
The king paused mid-pose, sweat dripping. The King's Punch was a sacred technique of the Elizabello lineage... but what choice did he have?
For now, survival came first.
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