Brook and Redfield both understood Coss Davo's intentions. He wasn't aiming for a head-on fight—he was targeting their weakest link.
Without hesitation, they chose to retreat. Coss Davo kept pressing the Kirin Lion, trying to exploit the opening.
But that was a mistake.
With a sharp glint in his eyes, Redfield erupted into motion, intercepting Davo mid-charge. The Kirin Lion flared its wings and bolted, carrying Brook away at incredible speed. Powered by the Wind-Wind Fruit, it moved even faster than Davo, leaving him trailing behind.
Redfield bought them just a few seconds—but that was all they needed.
Brook turned mid-flight, unleashing a burst of soul-infused sword energy. The spectral slashes rained down, forcing Davo to break off and giving Redfield the window to escape. His body sparked, then vanished into a streak of thunder as he zipped behind Brook.
Coss Davo clenched his fists, eyes filled with frustration as he watched the two vanish into the sky. Their powers were monstrous—uncontainable. He could stall them at best, but if they were determined to leave, there wasn't much he could do.
Still, he reminded himself: His mission wasn't to kill Brook. Not now, at least.
The primary objective was to protect Punk Hazard. Of course, the Celestial Dragons had permanently ordered the Navy to eliminate the Hell Pirates—but that didn't mean today was the day to risk everything.
His face pale from Brook's soul slash, Davo retreated to regroup with Admiral Kong. He needed to recover. That spiritual energy attack wasn't something one walked off easily.
Meanwhile, on their retreat route, Brook and his crew encountered a familiar and fearsome figure—Charlotte Linlin. Her eyes burned with the desire for battle.
Brook stared her down, voice serious. "Linlin. Not now. Come with us. We regroup at Punk Hazard and prepare."
Surprisingly, Linlin obeyed, silently falling in with the others. Even she could sense the storm that was coming.
When Davo returned to the fleet, he wasted no time. "My men are gone. Punk Hazard has fallen. Golden Lion Shiki is on the floating island," he reported grimly.
Kong's expression darkened. CP0's captain, Garlin, said nothing, but the atmosphere turned razor-sharp. Immediately, Kong ordered the entire fleet forward at full speed.
Failure was not an option. The Five Elders would demand answers.
---
Punk Hazard, Surface Level
"Shiki! Are you done yet? If you're not, build a damn underground lab! Two admirals are on the way!" Brook shouted, urgency slicing through his words.
He wasn't about to let the Navy take one of his strongest fighters. Shiki was vital—a pillar of high-end combat power. Brook didn't have the overwhelming strength of Rocks D. Xebec, but he had powerful subordinates, each one irreplaceable.
Against one admiral, Brook could fight. Against two? That was suicide. Rocks could fight two admirals and still laugh through it.
If only one admiral came, that guy might just end up dead. But the Navy was getting smarter. Admiral Hoss was now paired with Bloody Hand Braver, a terrifying candidate for Admiral. Together, they were just barely holding off Rocks.
On other fronts:
Garp's Iron Fist was clashing with the Warrior Monk, Scorpion Dragon.
Sengoku's Golden Buddha form was battling Great Swordsman Wang Zhi.
Zephyr—Black Arm—was overpowering Silver Axe.
The island trembled.
"Hahaha! You guys didn't disappoint!" Whitebeard roared from afar, his voice thunderous. "I want in on the fight too!"
The ground rumbled as the entire island began to rise.
The scientists and surviving experimental subjects who hadn't yet escaped screamed in terror. An entire island lifting into the sky—it was a disaster no man could imagine.
"WAIT FOR US!!!" shouted a booming voice.
Tiger and Tom, leading the fishmen crew, rolled up with several submarines. With monstrous strength, Tom hurled one of the subs onto the island with one hand, drawing gasps from onlookers.
"Yohoho~! Everyone's bringing their best! Let's give 'em hell!" Brook laughed, his tone fierce as the floating Punk Hazard loomed above the ocean.
Retreat was ready. The ships were loaded. But Brook wanted more than escape—he wanted dominance.
---
Navy Fleet
From afar, the Marines watched as the island floated higher into the sky. Their expressions were grim.
"Are we really about to get outmaneuvered again?!" someone growled.
Admiral Kong clenched his fists, fury bubbling. "Damn that Float-Float Fruit… Damn that Shiki…"
"They haven't escaped yet," CP0 Captain Garlin muttered through his mask. "A flying fleet is approaching."
His tone was cold, but behind it lingered a shred of hope.
Are the Hell Pirates really crazy enough to stay and fight?
The Marines weren't backing down. Even as anxiety filled the air, it was laced with anticipation.
---
Punk Hazard's Edge
On the edge of the island, former experimental captives gathered to watch their new captain face off against the Navy.
"Two admirals… should we run?" one muttered.
"Coward! If you're scared, go back to being an experiment! Our captain's the strongest in the New World!" another snapped.
"We follow him now! We'll crush the Navy and even the Celestial Dragons one day!"
The rare-race survivors argued with passion while the four Lunarians soared overhead, their black wings spread wide.
They had never flown so freely before. This—this was the freedom given to them by the Hell Pirates.
Below, their officers shook the heavens. Earthquakes. Tsunamis. Thunderstorms. Floating mountains. It was like the crew had brought divine calamities with them.
Suddenly, the sea cracked open.
"LONG LIVE WHITEBEARD!!"
Whitebeard's reserve squad screamed in awe as their captain raised his right arm, shattering space itself. A massive tsunami erupted, slamming toward the Navy fleet with unstoppable force.
"Whitebeard is invincible!"
"Gurararara~! Here's our Hell Pirates' welcome gift!" Newgate laughed, heart pounding with the energy of his crew.
Family. Brotherhood. Power. This was his world.
"Hmph! You think you're the only one who can show off?"
The Golden Lion Shiki barked a laugh as he lifted several mountains with his powers and hurled them at the fleet. His flying fleet—the Hell Pirates' First Division—roared with excitement.
Human-imitating baboons beat their chests, and dozens of high-bounty criminals cheered wildly for their captain.
Shiki grinned wide. This was his kind of party.
"...Boring."
Redfield's voice was low, almost dismissive.
But then the sky darkened.
A giant ball of lightning, so massive it lit the entire cloud canopy, began to swell above them.
Even Whitebeard and Shiki paused, blinking at the sheer pressure radiating from it.
When had Redfield summoned such storm clouds? When had he prepared this much power?
------------------
Brook silently gave a thumbs up as he watched the top fighters of the Hell Pirates put on a show—especially Redfield, who was acting overly "bored" with theatrical seriousness. Even Brook had to respect the man's commitment to the bit.
So this was what Redfield had been preparing for? He used the golden ship to disperse black smoke into the sky, condensing thunderclouds for hours—just to set up that one word: boring. That level of dramatic planning was on another level.
"Well then," Brook grinned as he floated mid-air. "Since Redfield's already set the stage with thunderclouds, I won't hold back either!"
"Tenman Daijizai Tenshin!"
Charlotte Linlin tossed Thundercloud Zeus into the sky, merging him with the storm clouds overhead. At the same time, she unleashed a massive surge of soul power into the darkened skies.
Crack!
Bolts of lightning erupted like divine wrath, bombarding the naval fleet in a storm of chaos. Each bolt of lightning wasn't just raw energy—it had sentience. Dodging one was useless. The lightning twisted mid-air, chasing targets like predators locked on prey.
The sheer destruction stunned the surviving test subjects still watching from the edges of Punk Hazard. Even Kong, Coss Davo, and their high-ranking officers stood paralyzed by the scope of devastation.
Before even clashing physically, the Hell Pirates had already launched a natural disaster-level assault that threatened to wipe out the entire fleet.
Only now did the navy finally understand.
Why did even the Rocks Pirates choose to "coexist" with the Hell Pirates?
Because fighting them was suicide.
---
Sky Island — Ballon Island
"Haha! This is absolutely insane! Tell me this is going out live!"
Moore Thomas, president of the World Economic News, was practically shouting into his Den Den Mushi, excitement spilling from every pore. The large-scale live broadcast Brook had asked him to arrange was going even better than expected!
Thanks to Antonio and Seagull Newsbird's specially-equipped visual Den Den Mushi, the world was watching the Hell Pirates unleash Armageddon. The coverage wasn't just from one angle—dozens of perspectives captured everything from the lightning's descent to the navy's expressions of pure terror.
Every bustling street on Doragonzo Island and the Eighteen Hells was tuned in. Even the thriving hubs of the Sabaody Archipelago and major islands of World Government member nations were watching the live broadcast.
Any place touched by Moore Thomas' information network was streaming the war of the century.
---
Holy Island — Grand Bar
Golden pirate Woonan and his companion, the burly Chinjao, had just reunited at the island's largest bar for drinks—only to witness the madness unfold on the magical screen before them.
"This... This is the power of the Hell Pirates," Woonan whispered, wine glass trembling slightly in his hand. "Even the Rocks Pirates are cautious around them."
He couldn't take his eyes off the screen. The sheer range, power, and coordination of the Hell Pirates' attack was like something out of legend.
Even with two admirals present, the naval fleet looked like ants facing a hurricane.
"This is mass-scale obliteration," Chinjao muttered, his usual bravado stripped away. "Each one of their officers has mastered their Devil Fruit and awakened Conqueror's Haki... Compared to them, we're basically corpses waiting to happen."
"Woohaha~! I've decided! I'm applying to become an affiliated pirate group under the Hell Pirates," Woonan declared with a grin. "Screw the Pirate Guild. If I join them, I can protect my island, make money, and get equipment too!"
Even a big-name pirate like Woonan had to constantly take commissions from the Pirate Guild to maintain his luxurious lifestyle. It was exhausting. With the Hell Pirates' backing, he could breathe easy.
"Why not just join Brook's crew directly?" Chinjao asked, half-joking. "Be an officer, ride the wave."
"Haha, because I still want to be a captain!" Woonan replied. "Sure, some top officers can eventually start their own squads, but at my current level? I'm nowhere near Brook's standard."
Becoming a subsidiary group like the Ewald Pirates or World Pirates was far more realistic. They had freedom, resources, and an exclusive island to manage. And best of all—they got protection from the scariest crew on the seas.
Don't think Brook accepted just anyone either. If your bounty was too low or your strength wasn't enough? You'd be rejected on the spot. The Hell Pirates didn't take in weaklings that would tarnish Brook's reputation.
"Well... I hope it works out for you," Chinjao sighed. As someone who had awakened Conqueror's Haki, he didn't quite get Woonan's laid-back dreams—but truthfully, he himself was lost. His generation had no chance of ruling the seas anymore.
Maybe it was time to retire to the West Blue, inherit the Happo Navy legacy, and train the next generation.
---
Meanwhile...
Roger, Byrnndi World, Angel—all the great pirates across the world were watching the live broadcast from different corners of the sea. Emotions were mixed—shock, awe, envy. As for the Rocks Pirates? They were already neck-deep in their own war against the navy and couldn't afford to watch.
---
Back at Punk Hazard
The battlefield had become unrecognizable.
Tsunamis could be braved, mountains could be climbed—but this kind of intelligent, targeted lightning? There was no escape.
Of the ten warships that originally made up the navy fleet... only four remained.
Then—
SLASH!
A terrifying wave of sword energy split the sky. From the center of the navy formation, a blade struck upward, slicing away a large portion of the thunderclouds. A flurry of sword strikes followed, dispersing Redfield's "Ten Thousand Thunders" technique and severely weakening Linlin's "Tenman Daijizai Tenshin."
It was a valiant effort—but the Hell Pirates' "greeting gift" had already done its job.
And then...
Things got worse.
Brook, Captain of the Hell Pirates, finally made his move.
A massive Gate of the Underworld appeared behind him, its jagged maw sucking in the lingering spirits of the dead navy soldiers. Their souls screamed as they were devoured—and moments later, a second gate opened beside it.
From this second gate marched an army of ghosts, twisted and clad in spectral armor. The souls that once fought for the navy had now become weapons of the Hell Pirates.
Viewers around the world shivered.
Brook's Devil Fruit—the Revive-Revive Fruit—had awakened.
He could now automatically enslave the souls of the dead.
Not even the pirates watching from a safe distance felt safe anymore.
He was the King of Hell, the reaper of the living. If you didn't want to join his ghost army... you had two choices: Don't die, or join him while you're still breathing.
---
The remaining navy soldiers—watching their fallen comrades come back from the dead to hunt them—could no longer hold back their fear.
"R-Retreat!" Kong shouted, voice hoarse. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at the sky, where Brook's floating fleet loomed like a prophecy of death.
They had been defeated—completely—before the actual battle even began.
The Hell Pirates had achieved something even Rocks failed to do:
Strike so fast, so decisively, and so overwhelmingly that the navy lost the will to fight in a single move.
"I... I don't think they'll let us retreat!" whispered Garlin, captain of CP0, his face pale as ash. Cold sweat dripped down his neck. "What kind of monsters are these...?"
More than half their force was gone in just one move.
And now, the Hell Pirates were charging forward.
The real battle was about to begin.
But no one—not the navy, not the pirates watching—was sure if anyone would survive.
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