-Real World-
At this very moment, Brook remained trapped within the Devil's Triangle—a pitiful skeleton who had wandered these cursed waters for decades. Ever since Gekko Moriah had stolen his shadow, he dared not venture into sunlight, forced to lurk in perpetual darkness while observing the Sky Screen's revelations.
The ethereal broadcast had become Brook's sole source of comfort in his miserable existence. Through the chat room function, he'd managed to contact Crocus at Twin Cape, learning through their conversations that Laboon still waited faithfully for his return.
Brook understood his predicament with painful clarity: only by defeating the corpse housing Ryuma's remains could he reclaim his shadow and walk beneath the sun once more. The future had shown him joining the Straw Hat Pirates after they accidentally entered the Devil's Triangle and defeated Gekko Moriah—one of the Shichibukai.
Witnessing the spirits of his former Rumbar Pirates crewmates in the Sky Screen's projection had reduced the living skeleton to bitter tears. More than anything, he longed to perform music alongside his departed companions once again.
While Brook's skeletal form freed him from concerns about thirst or starvation, the crushing loneliness of having no one to speak with had worn him down over the years. He could only entertain himself with solitary musical performances, the echoes of his songs swallowed by the Triangle's perpetual fog.
The Yomi Yomi no Mi he'd consumed during his lifetime had initially seemed useless—granting him resurrection but no apparent abilities beyond returning from death. Now the Sky Screen revealed the fruit's true potential: Brook could harness the power of the underworld itself, summoning souls of the deceased from Yomi for his own purposes.
This revelation struck him like a thunderbolt. Beyond his identity as a musician, Brook had always been a skilled swordsman, though he'd never considered that his cane-sword could channel the frigid essence of the underworld as a lethal weapon.
"If I can control Yomi 5 years in the future, there's no reason I can't do it now," Brook muttered, inserting his Soul Solid cane-sword into the ghost ship's weathered deck.
Imitating his future self's technique exactly, Brook attempted to establish communication with the realm of the dead. "As the Lord of Souls, I command thee! Yomi, open your gates! All members of the Rumbar Pirates—awaken! Rise once more!"
He repeated the incantation with growing desperation: "As the Lord of Souls, I command thee! Yomi, open your gates! All members of the Rumbar Pirates—awaken! Rise once more!"
A gentle breeze stirred the air around him, but nothing else happened. Brook stood frozen in place, hollow eye sockets staring at the unchanged deck. "Is it because I lack my shadow? I can't sense Yomi's presence at all."
Desperation drove him to attempt the summoning hundreds of times across the ghost ship's surface. The deck, already fragile from years of neglect and decay, accumulated numerous holes from Brook's frantic sword strikes until it could no longer support even a skeleton's minimal weight.
With a resounding crash, Brook plummeted through the rotted planks into the cabin below. Fortunately, only the upper deck had suffered damage—if he'd punctured the ship's hull, both he and the ship would have sunk to the ocean's depths, ending any hope of rescue by the Straw Hat Pirates.
"Wuuu... wuuu... Luffy, when will you arrive?" Brook lay motionless in the cabin, too emotionally drained to move. Tears that shouldn't have been possible streamed from his empty sockets as he contemplated his predicament. He needed a savior to free him from this floating prison.
While Brook wallowed in despair aboard his deteriorating ship, Gekko Moriah—the closest thing to a neighbor in these cursed waters—had been formulating plans of his own. The Shichibukai had never imagined that the skeleton's Devil Fruit abilities could prove so extraordinary.
"Search the entire Triangle," Moriah commanded his assembled forces, his massive frame casting ominous shadows across the throne room. "Bring Brook to me alive. Someone with talents like his belongs in my organization."
The corpulent Warlord's confidence bordered on delusion—he believed that simply returning Brook's shadow would guarantee the musician's grateful loyalty. To ensure success, he deployed his carefully cultivated zombie army, determined to capture this valuable asset.
Moreover, Moriah recognized a perfect partnership opportunity. One individual specialized in manipulating corpses while the other commanded souls. The possibilities seemed limitless. Previously, he'd only been able to insert shadows into dead bodies to create his zombie soldiers. What if he could combine both souls AND shadows of powerful warriors into carefully selected corpses?
Like Crocodile, Gekko Moriah suffered from a fundamental character flaw that stemmed from his catastrophic defeat. After the Yonko Kaido had crushed his crew in Wano Country, watching the Beast Pirates slaughter his former subordinates and claiming his inheritance, Moriah had barely escaped with his life. His sole achievement from that disaster had been grave-robbing Shimotsuki Ryuma's remains along with the legendary sword Shusui.
Both Shichibukai regarded the Yonko as untouchable monsters, far beyond the reach of ordinary challengers. Crocodile pursued the ancient weapons in his bid to slay Whitebeard, while Moria relied on his Devil Fruit to amass an army of the dead. Yet Moria clung to a deeper conviction: given enough time to refine his power, he would one day return to Wano and reclaim the birthright of his Kozuki lineage.
Since establishing himself in the Devil's Triangle, Moriah had steadily implemented his zombie army strategy. While he'd created numerous undead soldiers, his forces lacked high-tier combatants due to the scarcity of powerful corpses and corresponding shadows. Years of effort had yielded frustratingly mediocre results.
"The Yomi Yomi no Mi controls the souls of the dead," Perona murmured, the frills of her Gothic lolita dress whispering as she shifted uneasily. "Charlotte Linlin's power forces living souls into objects, giving them life. One calls back the dead, the other enslaves the living… They're complete opposites. Are we really prepared to antagonize someone that dangerous?"
The ghost-girl's concerns reflected genuine worry that their group couldn't control such a formidable Devil Fruit user.
"Even if the Yonko take interest in him, reaching the Devil's Triangle will require considerable time," Hogback interjected, his surgical expertise lending authority to his assessment. "If we utilize Brook's abilities to summon several powerful souls from the underworld, we'll possess the strength necessary for self-defense."
The demented doctor's gaze lingered on Shimotsuki Ryuma's preserved corpse. Fantasy consumed his imagination—what if Brook could summon the legendary swordsman's original soul from Yomi and reunite it with the physical body? The prospect of witnessing this centuries-dead monster's true power sent shivers of anticipation down Hogback's spine.
His thoughts inevitably turned to his beloved Cindry. While the actress's body housed another person's shadow, she remained fundamentally incomplete. Hogback desperately wanted Brook to locate Cindry's soul in the underworld and merge it with her physical form—creating the most feasible path to true resurrection.
"I volunteer to accompany the zombie army," Absalom declared, his lion-like features twisted into a predatory grin. "My Suke Suke no Mi (Clear-Clear Fruit) will allow me to approach the skeleton undetected, giving him no opportunity for escape."
The invisible man harbored his own ulterior motives. If Brook could acquire beautiful souls to match Hogback's collection of attractive corpses, Absalom envisioned assembling a harem of resurrected beauties—a lustful dream that made his mouth water with anticipation.
Perona studied her colleagues with mounting exasperation, her youthful face displaying obvious disgust. These grown men seemed to think about nothing but carnal desires and personal fantasies.
Within Ryuma's corpse, a fragment of the original soul still lingered. The shadow of another person inhabiting his body provided poor substitution for his authentic spirit. The prospect of true resurrection appealed to the samurai's essence—he desperately wanted to learn what had befallen Wano Country during his centuries-long absence.
"What type of soul should I prepare for Oars?" Moriah mused aloud, contemplating his greatest undead asset. "I absolutely cannot allow his original soul to return."
The Shichibukai understood Oars' true nature all too well—a reckless fool who had frozen to death in the Ice Country simply because he'd forgotten to wear clothes. Such stupidity would waste that magnificent giant body.
Gekko Moriah's organization had already mentally claimed Brook as their newest member. Such a valuable asset couldn't be shared with rival pirates under any circumstances.