Chapter Four: First Encounter with Brook

Clang, clang...

Up in the lookout atop the mainmast, a dumbbell weighing a full ton was tossed and caught in Buffon's hands as if it were a mere toy. Judging by his careless manner, this couldn't even be considered a proper warm-up.

This was the highest point of the entire pirate ship, and the only place where the sunlight could pierce through the Devil’s Triangle mists. Moriah’s crew shunned the sun; apart from fetching the newspaper, none of them ever came up here, and even the zombies, with nothing better to do, never bothered to climb up. Ever since Buffon had climbed up once to fetch the paper, this place had become his daily haunt. Drinking coffee and basking in the morning sun, Buffon felt he could dispel every bit of gloom accumulated within the castle.

At that moment, a couple of cooing sounds interrupted Buffon's musings. A large bird wearing a white postman's cap landed beside him. Around its neck hung a red tin collection box, and a bundle of newspapers was strapped across its chest by a leather belt.

It was a News Cuckoo.

In the world of the Pirate King, these birds served exclusively as newspaper carriers, sometimes called delivery gulls. Buffon took a paper, fished a hundred-Beli coin from his pocket, and flicked it with his thumb. Clink! The coin landed precisely in the slot.

The News Cuckoo cooed twice in protest.

The bird had been dealing with Buffon for almost a year now. From the very start, it had been unruly—either snatching things directly, resorting to threats of kidnapping, and once even threatening to roast him alive. Because of this, the bird's boss, Morgans, had even condemned such behavior on the front page, though without naming names. Not that Buffon cared—after all, Moriah would take the fall for it anyway.

Dispatching the bird, Buffon finally sat back, enjoying the sunlight as he perused the newspaper. The headline read: “The World Government Announces the Formation of the Seven Warlords of the Sea!” Yet, the article itself merely introduced the status and function of the Warlords, without revealing their identities.

“Looks like Moriah is either about to set sail to accept the government’s invitation, or someone will be boarding soon to act as a mediator,” Buffon thought. Just then, the Den Den Mushi on the lookout began to ring.

Pressing the button on its shell, Buffon heard Hogback’s voice, “Buffon, a ghost ship has mysteriously been swallowed into the inner sea. Go check it out with some men.”

“Understood,” Buffon replied, though in his mind he mused, “Brook, is that you?”

With that, Buffon vaulted from the lookout, plunging down a hundred meters to the ground below without the slightest sound or even stirring a speck of dust.

He adjusted his jacket, handed the newspaper to a waiting zombie, and headed for the inner sea.

The Thriller Bark, the world’s largest pirate ship, was actually divided into two parts. The mainmast stood on an island, which was where Buffon and the others now resided in the castle. Surrounding it was a circular wall, with two secondary masts rising atop it.

Between the walls and the island was a stretch of water—the inner sea that Hogback had mentioned. Whenever pirate ships lost their way in the Devil’s Triangle and caught Moriah’s eye, they would be drawn through a gigantic, gaping gate in the wall and “swallowed” into the inner sea. There, Moriah would dispatch his zombie army to annihilate them.

As for how enormous the Thriller Bark truly was, even Buffon couldn't quite describe it. By his estimation, it was at least a thousand times the size of the Sunny. For such a colossal vessel, relying solely on the power provided by three masts seemed implausible; whether there were other sources of propulsion, Buffon didn’t know.

Gathering No. 833 and dozens of zombie puppets at the head, Buffon blended into the throng as they arrived at the port.

The prow of the ship was shaped like a bull’s skull; the tattered pirate flag also bore this symbol.

“Ah, so it really is you,” Buffon murmured with a sly grin.

As the pirate ship drew closer, a melodious song drifted from the deck: “Yohohoho~ Yo-ho~ Yo-ho~ Yohohoho~ Yo-ho~ Yo-ho…”

On one side of the deck sat a skeleton in formal attire, sipping red tea. The liquid dripped down through his jawbone, one drop at a time. Perched atop his fluffy afro was a small top hat.

“Gentlemen, may I see your underpants?” asked the skeleton, leaping nimbly onto the shore as he spoke.

No. 833, without waiting for Buffon’s command, swung his massive gauntlets and charged like a whirlwind. The horde of zombie puppets followed in a rush.

The skeleton placed his hand on the purple cane-sword at his waist. The blade flashed—he vanished.

When he reappeared, he was standing right before Buffon. The zombies spun around, only to see the skeleton gripping the cane-sword horizontally, with half the blade already sheathed. The unsheathed half reflected the emptiness of his eye sockets.

Click!

The sword slid fully into its scabbard, and the skeleton murmured, “Three-Step Nose Song: Arrowtail Slash.”

The zombies all collapsed instantly.

“Sigh, looks like I’ll have to stitch them up again,” Buffon lamented aloud, though inwardly he mused, “So this is strength second only to the Warlords.”

“Yohohoho, young man, may I see your underpants?” the skeleton chirped.

Buffon had no intention of answering such idiotic questions and simply shook his head.

“You didn’t lift a finger just now. Are you, like me, also human?” Brook inquired.

Buffon still didn't reply, but instead flexed his gloved fist until his knuckles cracked.

Sensing the tension, Brook fell silent. He drew his cane-sword and vanished once more. The same move, the same speed—yet this time, when he spoke the name of the technique, Buffon remained standing, though his shirt was shredded into ribbons that fluttered to the ground.

Brook turned and saw Buffon still on his feet. The skeleton’s jaw dropped wide. “What? Could you be a Marine?”

Buffon turned and chuckled lightly, “I don’t know any of the Marines’ iron body skills.”

Brook composed himself, drew his cane-sword again, and lunged at Buffon, the blade whistling straight for his face.

Buffon sidestepped the strike and drove his right fist directly into Brook’s pelvic bone.

Crack. Brook collapsed, the sound of shattering bone echoing.

Terrified, Brook looked down at the damage—hairline fractures radiated from his pelvis.

Buffon bent down, extending his right hand. Steel needles flashed between his fingers as he activated his fruit power, and in a blink, the fissures disappeared from Brook’s pelvis.

Just as Brook tried to say something, Buffon gave him a gentle kick with the tip of his foot, sending him sailing back onto his ship.

Then Buffon strode to the shore, grabbed the ship with one hand, and with a mighty heave, flung it clear over the outer wall of Thriller Bark.

At that moment, an inexplicable voice sounded in his mind: “Goalkeeper’s Secret Technique: Backfield Throw-In.”

“Hey, not bad! You even thought up a name for the move!”

Dusting off his hands, Buffon glanced at the Character Compendium in his mind:

[Owner: Brook]
[Rank: T3]
[Faction: Pirate]
[Bounty: 33,000,000 Beli]
[Obsession: 7%]
[Current Available Reward: Soul +11→13 (Level 1 Lingering Regret)]
[Devil Fruit Power Available for Copy: Yomi Yomi no Mi]
[Would you like to claim the reward?]

Another fruit power! What do they take me for—Blackbeard?