From his vantage point aboard the golden spaceship, Brook watched the strange, winged figures dashing across the ground below.
Chiropterans.
They looked almost familiar.
"Aren't these just walking chickens?" Brook mused with a smirk.
Yet something felt off. None of them were flying. Not gliding. Not even flapping.
"Do they have no passive abilities? Or maybe... they've run out of energy?"
Brook scratched his head, puzzled. His air force plan suddenly seemed doomed. What conditions did these creatures need to truly fly? Would they need a second dose—maybe a stimulated mutation—from the IQ plants?
He tried to recall: after Shiki the Golden Lion was defeated by Straw Hat Luffy, didn't an archipelago collapse? And didn't the Chiropterans take flight in a last-minute mass escape?
Or… had they just glided away on thermal winds?
Brook couldn't be sure. But one thing was certain—if the IQ plants were here, then the Chiropterans could wait. The real treasure was the flora.
---
Below, the Chiropteran men of Trans Town had armed themselves with wooden spears, organizing to defend their village from the ominous golden ship descending from the sky.
"Hahaha~ Brother Brook," Shiki chuckled. "These guys are too weak. This island doesn't look like it holds any exotic treasures. Are you sure this is the right place?"
With his Observation Haki active, Shiki had already scanned the entire village—there wasn't a single fighter worth his attention.
If there really were mystical plants that enhanced beasts, how had this race survived here?
"It's the right island," Brook said. "Look at the green trees outside the village—that's DaftGreen. The stench keeps predators at bay. As for the beasts, that's your job, Shiki."
Brook's expression sharpened. "Float the island. The rest of the crew: subdue any mutated beasts. Capture—don't kill—anything showing elemental powers like fire or electricity. Vegapunk will want them intact."
As Brook gave orders, the golden sship descended.
The Hell Pirates disembarked and split into strike squads, spreading across the island in search of high-value fauna.
The Chiropteran chief watched, wide-eyed. These invaders weren't just landing—they were storming the entire island, even venturing beyond the DaftGreen protection zone.
Were they insane?
He was about to warn them of the dangers when an overwhelming aura crashed over the village, freezing everyone in place.
Shiki placed his palms on the ground, activating his Float-Float Fruit. Tremors spread outward as the island began to rise, inch by inch, into the sky.
Brook floated above them, arms crossed.
"We are the new rulers of this island. If you want to keep living here, there are two choices: One—obey. Two—prove your value."
He smiled, cold and detached. "That's all I wanted to say. So… who agrees? Who disagrees? Anyone with alternate opinions?"
As Brook suppressed his Conqueror's Haki, the Chiropterans regained movement—though many still trembled in place.
"You can't just take over our island!" a young Chiropteran shouted. His unruly hair and wild wings marked him as a rebel, a tribal delinquent.
Every race had their punks, it seemed.
"An objection?" Brook asked calmly. "I'm very democratic. I don't mind objections... I just ensure they don't exist for long."
A flash of silver—Seven Star Sword drawn.
It was so fast that it didn't even look like he moved. The rebel didn't have time to scream. He simply split in two, frozen mid-motion, eyes wide with shock.
His friends shrieked in horror, collapsing and scrambling away like frightened children.
They weren't warriors. They were farmers with wings.
---
The Chiropteran chief stood frozen, lips quivering, skin pale.
They had never witnessed anything like this. The worst thing that delinquent ever did was bully fellow villagers—and now he was a corpse split by a single swing.
"Does anyone else have an opinion?" Brook asked, sheathing his blade with a crisp snap.
Silence.
Not even the wind dared blow.
"He… he was just a child!" the village chief finally said, voice cracking. "Why kill him?!"
"He voiced an opinion," Brook said simply. "He died. What about you?"
He pulled the Seven Star Sword halfway from its scabbard again. Frost began to form at the blade's edge.
The chief fell to his knees. "Please! We will obey all your orders! Just… no more killing…"
Brook raised an eyebrow.
"You speak for all of them?"
"Yes, sir!" the chief stammered. "I am their clan leader—I speak for everyone!"
Brook twirled the sword into a spinning sword flower, letting it vanish in a flash of cold air.
"Good."
He descended and addressed the terrified crowd. "From today onward, your race falls under the command of Totto Land. But this is not charity. If you want respect, you must earn it."
He scanned their wings.
"Fly. If you can fly, you will be honored. If not... you'll remain at the bottom."
Brook then introduced the Hell Pirates—the current rulers of the skies. The Chiropteran chief began relaying his words to the others, trying to calm them.
Fortunately, the slain rebel had been disliked by most of the villagers. Rather than outrage, his death was seen as the removal of a pest. And when Brook declared that any Chiropteran who learned to fly would be elevated, the tribe stirred.
In their peaceful society, status had always come from age and tradition. But now? Now youth and talent could rise.
Hope ignited.
---
In the days that followed, dozens of young Chiropterans worked obsessively to reclaim their flight. Using IQ plants, they brewed homemade elixirs and experimented with different formulas.
Eventually, one succeeded.
A young male Chiropteran, once overlooked, took to the sky in a slow but steady glide—and then, true flight.
He had created a crude version of an IQ Flight Potion, unlocking his ancestral ability.
Instantly, he became a legend among his people.
Dozens of others flocked to him. Within days, he had his own faction—young, ambitious, and inspired. He trained them, and together they soared through the air like bats reclaiming the night.
When Brook received the report, he was impressed.
He immediately appointed the young Chiropteran as the tribe's new leader, naming him Unchūkun after the figure from the old tale.
The formula for the basic IQ flight potion was handed over to Vegapunk for further analysis.
"If we can enhance it," Brook said, "and maybe even apply it to humans… we'll surpass artificial Devil Fruits completely."
-------------------------
During the mission to suppress and capture various beasts across the Island, the Hell Pirates encountered a surprising array of monsters—creatures that had undergone bizarre evolutions after consuming IQ plants. Many of them now possessed powerful and unpredictable abilities.
Charlotte Linlin dragged a massive black beetle by its horn. The creature roared and flapped its wings, spitting flames in fury. But Linlin's raw strength made resistance futile. Prometheus, her sun homie, greedily devoured the fire it spat, leaving the beetle wailing at the sky in helpless rage.
Nearby, Redfield subdued a four-winged yellow bird crackling with electricity. He calmly tied a vine around its beak and forced it to fly back to the village. Its thunderous bursts of lightning danced across the air, but none of them could touch Redfield. Worse, he seemed to absorb the energy, draining the bird's power with every strike. Once an apex predator of the island, the lightning bird now hung its head in bitter defeat.
Whitebeard returned hauling a black-and-white striped brown bear, whose raw power shocked even him. "This beast's got the strength of a 300 million berry pirate," he muttered, impressed. "That IQ plant really gave it a boost."
Kaido came back riding a horned, light-blue Tyrannosaurus Rex. His shirt was shredded and singed, and judging from the scorched ground in his wake, the fight had been a brutal one. But Kaido's wide grin said it all.
Fisher Tiger stumbled in next, nursing a bruised jaw and dragging a boxing penguin by its flipper. Clearly, the two had brawled in a classic man-to-man fistfight, each punch echoing with stubborn pride.
Shakky rode in style atop a sleek, two-tailed saber-toothed tiger with electric-blue fur, while Stussy came trotting behind on a ridiculously pink triceratops. It was obvious they had chosen their "pets" based more on aesthetics than practicality—completely ignoring Brook's initial scientific intentions.
The ship's doctor, Crocus, wrangled a titanic scorpion with a venomous stinger longer than a man's leg. Hiruba, meanwhile, limped in with a giant green mantis. Judging by his bandaged arm, the bug had given him a painful welcome.
Even Fishman Tom had results, riding triumphantly on a 40-meter-long pink-dotted squid whose many claws fluttered like dancing ribbons. Scaredo caught a sickle-armed fox with blade-like forepaws, its graceful stance betraying lethal potential.
Every crew member returned with their prize. All these beasts, mutated by the IQ plants, had undergone primitive evolutions. Even with just minor consumption, their strength had multiplied drastically.
However, Brook remained cautious. "If they take the refined IQ potions Vegapunk is working on, their power will spike… but so will their aggression."
He feared they would lose all rationality—becoming berserk monsters who fought to the death, even turning on allies. Unlike Caesar Clown's artificial Devil Fruits, Brook hoped that Vegapunk could refine these potions to preserve sanity and obedience.
Thankfully, the currently evolved beasts retained fragments of intelligence. After suffering defeats from the Hell Pirates, most became subdued and manageable.
Brook wasted no time. He ordered the Chiropterans to replant the IQ vegetation in a central grove, mud and all. They also sowed seeds in parallel, expanding cultivation. The island's new utility was clear—a biological goldmine.
And soon, Brook would recruit dwarves from Sky Island to tend these crops. Known as nature's green-thumbed stewards, dwarves could make anything grow.
---
Several days passed, and Trans Town finally floated. After a short rest for Golden Lion Shiki, the Hell Pirates prepared to set off.
Their destination: Kuraigana Island, the former territory of the fallen Kingdom of Shikkearu—a dark, gloomy place often hidden beneath eternal mist. This island would one day become home to the world's greatest swordsman, Dracule Mihawk.
The air here was thick, the land shrouded in silence and dread. Ruined castles dotted the foggy forests like forgotten gravestones. But the true horror lay in the legends: pirates who entered this land often left broken—not from battle, but from despair.
Their strongest moves, techniques they had spent years perfecting, were mimicked here. Imitated by shadows. Stolen. Twisted. And performed even better.
Those who escaped often lost their edge, haunted by the humiliation of being surpassed by something they didn't understand.
And now, into this cursed land descended the glowing, skybound Tans Island.
As the island floated closer, hundreds of crows and bats erupted in a flurry of wings. Distant screeches and primal roars echoed through the trees.
Brook squinted.
Sword slashes.
From the forest, arcs of energy shot up—real sword energy, slicing the air towardIthe Island.
Before Brook could act, Golden Lion Shiki launched himself forward. Blades drawn, he unleashed two golden shockwaves that clashed with the mysterious sword energies. His voice roared:
"Valley of a Thousand Cuts!"
A barrage of golden slashes rained down into the forest below.
The ground shook. Roars answered. From the trees burst dozens of figures—human imitators, baboons wielding swords of every size. And to Brook's shock, some had already begun mimicking Shiki's Valley of a Thousand Cuts, albeit clumsily.
Shiki was stunned.
"That technique—! I created that move myself, damn it! It's my masterpiece as a swordsman! And these ugly monkeys copied it in one try?!"
He swung again:
"Lion Slash: Sky Fang!"
A colossal golden blade of energy, hundreds of meters long, tore through the forest. The land split. Dozens of baboons went flying, howling in pain.
Shiki hovered in the air, panting slightly but grinning. "I don't believe for a second they can copy that in one go!"
He was right. That level of power and technique was still beyond them. But the seeds had been planted.
From the torn forest floor, the baboons rose again.
One among them—towering over the rest—stepped forward. A hulking alpha with scars across his face. He grabbed a second blade from a nearby subordinate and crossed them like a dual-wielding samurai.
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