One Piece: Hell Pirates

Dr. Kutu, director of the Tree of Knowledge Library, was once a leading archaeologist. Under his secret leadership, countless archaeologists had been working to decipher ancient texts and uncover the truth behind the mysterious Void Century.

"Do you know where the other Poneglyphs are?"

Dr. Kutu suddenly leaned forward, eyes gleaming with excitement. Over the years, they'd studied the two Poneglyphs hidden within the Tree of Subjugating the Tree of Knowledge extensively and sent scholars across the seas in search of others.

But most found nothing. Many brilliant minds had perished at sea—victims of their pursuit of truth.

"Not only do I know where some of them are," Brook replied calmly, "but I also know they're divided into two types—regular Poneglyphs and the red ones. Each records different things. Even on my Golden Island, there's one. The info it holds is critical, and I won't let anyone touch it—at least, not yet."

Dr. Kutu's heart skipped a beat. But Brook remained composed, unimpressed by their scholarly games.

"You know more than us? You can read the ancient script?" Kutu asked, forgetting for a moment that Brook had kidnapped their entire island. All that mattered now was knowledge.

"I can't read the script, but I know what some of the stones say," Brook said. "If you behave, I'll give you chances to study more Poneglyphs. I won't force you to do anything either. I just need you to send scientific talent—people from biology, mechanics, cybernetics, weapon development—to support my scientist."

He smiled. "He's the smartest man in the world. Working with him, you'll witness science beyond imagination. And with my funding, your scholars can study whatever they want without limitation."

Brook laid everything out clearly. He hoped the old man would be reasonable—otherwise, he'd have to resort to more brutal methods. He respected science. But he wasn't above wiping out disobedient scientists if needed.

Dr. Kutu's mind spun. He didn't fully buy the "smartest man in the world" claim. But the truth was clear—O'Hara was now under the control of the Hell Pirates. Resistance was futile.

Yet instead of slaughter, these pirates wanted their help. Funding, resources, even access to the Poneglyphs—the one thing O'Hara's scholars had always dreamed of.

"It's not impossible to convince other scholars," Kutu said slowly, "but you have to share all the information you know about the Poneglyphs."

If he couldn't resist, he'd make use of the opportunity. If surrendering meant continuing their research—and keeping their lives—then so be it.

"I won't tell you everything," Brook said. "Some of that knowledge is too dangerous. The more you know, the more likely it'll cost you your life. But if you help me find the four red Poneglyphs, I'll let you study them all."

Brook had no intention of revealing anything about Pluton or Poseidon. He hadn't even shown them those two stones. The rest were negotiable—including the red one that pointed to the Final Island.

"Fine. I accept your terms. But I want your word that no scholar or civilian will be harmed."

Despite protests from Nico Barroby and Charles Perrault, Dr. Kutu joined Brook. He'd manage O'Hara and the Tree of Knowledge on Brook's behalf and help him recruit the best scientific minds for Vegapunk—the world's smartest scientist.

He had no choice but to play along—for now. Time would reveal whether Brook's promises were real.

"Good," Brook nodded. "From now on, you're under my protection. Just assist Vegapunk, and you'll be fine."

Brook appreciated Kutu's pragmatism. If a younger or more arrogant director had been in charge, Brook might've had to kill a few to get the message across.

He turned to Nico Barroby and Charles Perrault—Nico Robin's grandfather and great-uncle. If he were to separate young Nico Herodotus and Olivia Perrault—or even kill one—would Robin still be born?

But in the end, what did that matter?

He now had a massive team of archaeologists who could read the ancient language, and more texts than anyone else. Whether or not Robin was born had become irrelevant.

Brook wasn't some fate-driven idealist. If he could develop enough strength over the next 50 years, he might just overthrow the World Government himself.

After all, his crew was filled with future Four Emperor-level monsters. And with Vegapunk's genius—cloning, cybernetics, artificial Devil Fruits, and advanced weapons—they were decades ahead of the rest of the world.

If fate really did control this world, then so be it. Let that damn Nika Fruit user show up fifty years later and "liberate" the world if he had to. But Brook wasn't waiting around.

Even Gol D. Roger—the Pirate King himself—had made it to the Final Island, only to laugh and name it "Raftel," turning the whole journey into a sick joke.

He got nothing. No answers. Just fate slamming the door in his face.

And Kozuki Oden? He returned to Wano, danced naked for five years, and died thinking it was all worth it.

Brook scoffed. "What a damn fool."

--------------------

Even up until his death, Kozuki Oden genuinely believed the people of the future would rise up and free Wano. He never believed in the strength he had built or the people around him. He refused help from Roger's Pirates, and he wouldn't even reach out to the Whitebeard Pirates.

Hell, even that reckless idiot Straw Hat Luffy knows that war means casualties—and he still forms alliances, calls for help, makes moves! But Oden? The moment Orochi took a few civilians hostage, he folded. He danced naked for five damn years in the Flower Capital like some kind of twisted clown.

What the hell was going through Oden's head? Did a dog chew up his brain and spit it back in?

This man had Conqueror's Haki, sailed with legends, fought monsters, reached the Final Island—he was strong as hell. And yet, for the lives of a few civilians, he gave up everything. Danced for five years while the country suffered. Where was that so-called pride then? Where was that strength?

Five years. Do you know how long that is? How many people suffered? How many chances were lost?

In war, sometimes you have to sacrifice a few to save the many. That's the cold truth. But instead, Oden's weakness dragged Wano into two decades of darkness. His family shattered, his wife abandoned.

And what about Lady Toki? She came from 800 years in the past, thinking she was marrying a hero. Instead, she married a man who danced naked for five years while she wasted away in silence. She watched her country fall, watched her husband fail, and then had to sacrifice herself.

In the end, she used the Time-Time Fruit to send that annoying brat Momonosuke and a handful of retainers into the future. She was burned alive in the chaos—and who knows if anyone even buried her? Nobody talks about her. She's just a footnote. A tool.

Her whole role was to give Oden two kids, then vanish. She met him, had two children in four years, then Oden left to follow Roger. She waited, alone, for years in Wano. Then he returned… and danced like a fool while she continued waiting in silence.

Oden failed. And so did she—for loving him so blindly. She had the power to escape but chose to die. Why didn't she jump to the future, too? Was there no room for her? No ticket? Or did she want to die for Oden? Or maybe… just maybe, Oden's story needed her to die for dramatic effect.

After all, Oda once said: "A mother is the opposite of adventure." And in One Piece, mothers don't last long.

Nami's adoptive mom, Bellemere.

Sanji's mom.

Usopp's mom.

Robin's mom, Nico Olivia.

Ace's mom, Rouge.

Doflamingo's mom.

Shirahoshi's mom, Queen Otohime.

Rebecca's mom, Scarlett.

All dead or erased.

---

"If destiny really exists in this world," Brook muttered, standing at the top of the Tree of Knowledge, "then I'll be the one to break it. Didn't even the so-called Sun God Nika die 800 years ago?"

Brook gazed out over the land and sea below him. "From the moment I arrived in this world, anyone in my way is my enemy. I don't care if it's the World Government, the Marines... or even Nika himself."

He didn't care who they were, where they came from, or what they represented. Brook only saw two types of people: enemies and those loyal to him.

Trash belongs in the trash can. Nika's been dead for eight centuries, and yet his legacy lingers. Prophecies, inherited will, destinies—etched into Poneglyphs. Even the timing of Poseidon's (Shirahoshi's) birth and Uranus have been laid out like a script.

The Nika Fruit, too—this damn Mythical Zoan—seems to have its own will. It avoided the World Government, chose its own hosts, and only awakened for certain people… like Luffy, the D-clan brat.

The more Brook thought about it, the darker his thoughts grew.

He wouldn't dance to someone else's tune. Not Nika's. Not fate's.

If Toki had really been sent 800 years forward just to give birth to some chosen brat like Momonosuke, the "Elephant Commander," Brook would crush that fate before it began.

"Even if I have to pluck Toki off the timeline myself, I'll do it," he whispered, coldly. "No matter how sweet or bitter that melon tastes."

He'd stop Momonosuke from being born. Stop the "Destined Child." Seize the Nika Fruit from CP0 agent Foz F and seal it in a seastone box. Or pass it on to his own bloodline—even if they couldn't awaken it.

Screw prophecy. Brook would rewrite the world with his own hands.

With Poseidon (Shirahoshi) under his control, and Pluton—the battleship hidden beneath Wano—he'd gain two ancient weapons. Add in a crew of Four Emperor-level monsters? He'd have enough firepower to take on the World Government itself.

And if the mysterious Im was planning a "lights-out" operation?

Then Brook would have a blackout plan of his own.

"If I can't bend the Admirals to my will... I'll end them before they bloom," Brook said coldly. "Akainu, Kizaru, Aokiji... better pray you're not second-gen navy brats. Or I'll erase you before you even grow."

Or… maybe he'd just mess with their minds. Like that sea creature, the Memory Sea Horse.

Brook stayed on the canopy of the Tree of Knowledge his thoughts running wild. Time passed, and night fell.

The moon rose high.

A giant, radiant full moon loomed overhead. The soul of the Reaper—the embodiment of Brook's Underworld Fruit—slowly emerged from his body, basking in the moonlight like it was something holy.

The eerie glow lit up the dark treetops. Brook's eyes narrowed.

Suddenly, the Soul Reaper bowed toward the moon.

His heart skipped a beat.

"The hell?!"

Soul… worships the moon?!

Was his Underworld Fruit sentient too?!

His mind raced. "Don't tell me this is another damn Mythical Zoan with consciousness—like the Nika Fruit!"

"I don't need a conscious Devil Fruit, dammit!!" Brook panicked.

He shut down the Soul Reaper, turned away from the moon, and bolted. He didn't even wait to summon Hera—his second mount. The Somersault Cloud? Forgotten.

BOOM!

He landed hard in a massive crater, startling several scholars nearby.

"W-What the hell was that?!"

Brook dusted himself off and forced a calm expression. He slowly straightened his back and walked forward with deliberate poise. He acted cold, unfazed—even though his heart was pounding.

Inwardly, he cursed.

"Damn it... I scared myself like an idiot. I should've studied it more. Why the hell did I run?"

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