Sea Calendar 1473, December 1, New World, Sky Island - Baron Island
Charlotte Linlin's due date was fast approaching, but she felt as spry as ever. Pregnancy? No big deal for her—she could still throw down in a fight without breaking a sweat.
"Yo, Brook, enough fiddling with those Devil Fruits!" Linlin called out, her voice booming as she strode into the captain's quarters, her belly leading the way. "We need to head down to Elan Island and get Rocky and his three giant buddies ready. The Elbaf Winter Solstice Festival is coming up on December 22!"
Even with her pregnancy, Linlin moved like a gale, bursting into Brook's room. The festival was just weeks away, and even flying from Baron Island to Elbaf would take days. That meant Linlin, fresh off giving birth, would have barely a week to recover before setting out.
Her ironclad physique could handle it, no question. But a newborn? That was another story.
Luckily, the Hell Pirates were sailing the Golden Ark to the land of giants—a smooth, steady ride, not some rickety dinghy. With Crocus, their healer with the Heal Fruit, on board, any issues should be manageable.
Compared to Portgas D. Ace's rough start, this was a breeze. That kid was born on Baterilla Island in the South Blue, losing his mother, Rouge, shortly after. Then Garp hauled him across the seas on a shaky Marine ship, tended by a crew of roughneck sailors, all the way to Foosha Village in the East Blue. No Seastone hulls back then to cross the Calm Belt, so who knows how long that journey took? By the time Garp handed Ace to Dadan the bandit, the kid was crawling and Garp's hair had grown out. Talk about a tough baby!
If the Pirate King's son could survive that ordeal, Brook was damn sure his and Linlin's kid—blessed with her monstrous vitality—would be just fine.
"No need to head down," Brook replied, leaning back with a grin. "I already sent Rocky and his crew back to Elbaf ahead of schedule. They're not sailing with us. Who knows? They might even roll out the welcome mat when we arrive!"
Brook had arranged for Rocky and his three giant comrades to train in Elbaf's warrior techniques. With Vegapunk's help, they'd been juiced up with experimental serums to boost their strength and potential. The catch? No clue how much it shaved off their lifespans. Data on giants was still a work in progress—Vegapunk's first stab at using them as test subjects.
Seeing Rocky brimming with newfound power, Brook had sent the quartet back to Elbaf two days ago. He wondered how many hotheaded giants Rocky could rally. In Elbaf, might makes right, and Rocky's strength now rivaled legends like Blue Ogre Dorry and Red Ogre Brogy.
Clad in Vegapunk's gleaming alloy armor and wielding massive axes, swords, and shields, the four giants outclassed Elbaf's outdated gear. Their polished, high-tech equipment doubled their combat prowess, making them walking fortresses.
Rocky and his crew were returning to Elbaf in style—freshly armed, battle-ready, and looking like heroes. They'd likely draw a crowd of young giants eager to join the winning side and share in the glory.
Money talks, and the Hell Pirates had plenty of it. If "Waterfall Beard" Jorul's village insisted on clashing with Linlin, Brook wouldn't hesitate to let Rocky and his crew handle the stubborn holdouts.
Then, he'd push Rocky onto Elbaf's throne. With that, the land of giants would be under Brook's command.
...
"That's my man!" Linlin beamed, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "With you calling the shots, Brook, we've got nothing to worry about!"
Brook's knack for scheming and planning never ceased to amaze her. Since joining his crew and becoming his woman, life had been a breeze—no stress, just victories. Feasting, fighting, honing her Devil Fruit powers, mastering her three Haki types, and building Whole Cake Island into a utopia—everything was falling into place.
Words couldn't express her gratitude. The only way to repay Brook? Pop out ten, maybe a hundred, kids for him. Linlin blushed at the thought, a rare shy moment for the ironclad queen.
"We're family," Brook said warmly. "Your dreams are mine. Making you all happy and helping you achieve your goals—that's my job."
Setting aside the Devil Fruit he'd been inspecting, Brook stepped over and pressed his ear to Linlin's belly. The sound of multiple strong, steady heartbeats filled him with joy. He grinned, already picturing his kids—healthy, powerful, and likely twins or more. Boys, girls, didn't matter. He'd raise them to be forces of nature, each one a powerhouse in their own right.
After a bit of chatter, Linlin waddled off, content and craving her next meal. Brook had everything under control—giants, travel, even her place in Elbaf. She didn't have a care in the world.
...
Once Linlin left, Brook's smile faded. He glared at the five new Devil Fruits on his desk. "World Government and Marines, you call these fruits? What a load of garbage!"
He felt shortchanged. Sure, they'd kept the Marine with the Devil Fruit powers as a bargaining chip, but the remaining prisoners were worth way more than these five pathetic fruits.
The lineup? Sakura Chicken Fruit, Gaulish Rooster Fruit, Stick-Stick Fruit, Fawn-Dog Fruit, and John Bull Fruit. Four Zoan-types and one probable Paramecia.
The Stick-Stick Fruit wasn't terrible. Like the String-String or Chain-Chain Fruits, it let the user conjure sticks. The last user could only make wooden ones—no metal, which was kind of lame.
Still, in the hands of an Armament Haki master, it could be decent. Whip up a stick, harden it with Haki, and you've got a solid weapon. Not bad.
The two Chicken Fruit Zoans? Total duds. Their previous users could only flap for short glides, no real flight. Useless for serious combat.
The Fawn-Dog Fruit was worse. It turned the user into a groveling lapdog, loyal to a fault—hardly the makings of a fearsome pirate. The John Bull Fruit wasn't much better, giving its user a penchant for… questionable romantic tastes, rivaling the Hobby-Hobby Fruit's weird vibes.
Brook had no interest in keeping these. "Stussy, take these and auction them off, use them as rewards, or let Vegapunk tinker with them for experiments. Just get them out of my quarters!"
...
Lately, Rocks had been quiet—too quiet. What was that schemer up to?
Brook toyed with the idea of selling the fruits to Rocks at a steep price. Then he shook his head.
"No way. We don't fund our enemies. Besides, the Hell Pirates aren't hurting for cash!"
Unless… what if he could trick Rocks? Slip one of these junk fruits to a high-ranking Rocks Pirate officer. A dud fruit would cap their potential, saddle them with a seawater weakness, and kneecap their crew's growth.
One less dangerous rival in the New World. Now that was a plan worth considering.
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