Borsalino studied Tsuru with lazy, half lidded eyes.
Her reputation was real. Her presence was sharp. Her strength was close to an admiral's.
Close.
But in Borsalino's mind, that was the problem. Close was not the same as being one.
"Hey, Tsuru," he said lightly, voice drifting like smoke. "My master wants to invite you to become the chief advisor of the Universal Government. Build a new navy with us. Interested?"
He knew the answer.
Still, Brook had told him to ask. So he asked, as casually as someone offering a seat at a café.
Tsuru's gaze hardened.
"Pirate," she snapped. "Don't look down on my justice."
Her fists turned pitch black. Armament Haki surged so dense it felt like iron wrapped around her bones. In that instant, she looked less like a staff officer and more like a legend stepping out of the navy's old stories.
The woman who stood beside Sengoku and Garp.
The third corner of the iron triangle.
"Oh, that's really troublesome," Borsalino sighed.
Then he stopped pretending.
"Yasakani no Magatama!"
A storm of light burst outward.
Countless piercing beams rained down in a wide spread, shredding the command warship like paper. Wood and iron exploded into splinters, the deck turning into a blazing hell as the ship was riddled through and through.
No one here could endure that kind of firepower.
Even Tsuru, with her monstrous Armament Haki, could only evade. She dodged again and again, unable to protect the command ship at all.
"Sayounara," Borsalino hummed, voice almost cheerful. "All you staff vice admirals."
He turned his fingers, and the light followed his will, snapping toward the weaker officers first. Headquarters vice admirals like them were comparable to pirates worth five or six hundred million Berries.
But to him, they were targets.
"No!"
Tsuru launched forward, using Soru in a blur. Her dark fist tore through the smoke and slammed toward Borsalino's face.
He slid aside like a ray of sunlight slipping through a crack. He even had time to catch his pure gold ring in his fingers, as if this whole thing was a mild inconvenience.
"Too slow, Tsuru," he said, smiling faintly. "Ever been kicked at the speed of light?"
His right leg ignited into gold.
Then it vanished.
A flash.
Tsuru was blasted back, crashing through a warship so hard she nearly punched straight through its hull.
And just as she steadied herself, several elite vice admirals from headquarters, hardliners, hawks, rushed back into the fight. There was no fear in their eyes, only hatred for pirates and the will to die if it meant taking one down.
"Oh," Borsalino murmured, turning into light again. "Scary faces. Planning to die with me?"
He flowed away from their attacks and reformed, choosing a cautious rhythm. Not because he was losing, but because he did not feel like getting his clothes dirty.
These three were elite, the kind who could actually pressure him when they fought together.
But Borsalino was not alone.
His allies were already closing in, and they were stronger than most naval officers alive.
Soon, the second generation of Hell arrived with killing momentum. Seeing the command center under attack, more naval officers rushed in, too.
The backbone of both sides collided.
Vampire Shakky and Siren Stussy entered the chaos like predators. Wolrd and Chinjao pushed forward with brutal force. Branch commanders and headquarters officers, major generals and vice admirals, all crashed together around the burning staff warship.
The slaughter here felt even more savage than the top battlefield where Brook and Imu were clashing.
…
Elsewhere, Imu felt it.
Uranus had gone silent again.
That sudden emptiness made his blood turn cold, and then it made him furious.
His eyes locked onto Brook, who stood wrapped in dark aura like a walking abyss.
Eight hundred years ago, he had not felt rage like this.
Not even against Joyboy.
Brook was worse. Harder to kill, harder to predict, and far more hateful.
"You're tougher than that idiot Joyboy," Imu said, voice like a blade being drawn. "You've truly pissed me off."
Destruction surged from him. Space twisted. Even the light around his body warped strangely, forcing Brook to pull back with caution.
"I'll erase every island in the front half of the New World."
If Doragonzo Island had been in the back half, Imu would have personally gone there and burned Brook's territory to ash.
But he knew the New World's suppression was real. If he pushed too deep, Mother Nature's pressure would intensify, and against a dual fruit user like Brook, that risk was unacceptable.
So he would destroy what he could reach.
And then he raised his chin slightly, as if announcing law itself.
"If you dare extend your claws into the Four Seas," Imu continued, "this god will personally slaughter you."
Imu was done hiding. He was ready to seize the World Government with his own hands and rule openly. The Four Seas and the Grand Line were his domain, where Mother Nature's suppression would not hinder him.
There, he believed he could kill any Hell Pirate with ease.
"Yohoho," Brook laughed, dark and amused. "Then I hope you can make unlimited clones to guard the Four Seas and the Grand Line."
Was this a threat?
Or just a tantrum?
Imu answered with violence.
"Annihilation."
Two beams of destructive light shot from his eyes.
Brook's chest was pierced before his instincts could fully react.
Behind him, the sea erupted, a mushroom cloud of seawater blasting hundreds of meters high.
Brook's eyes widened, not in fear, but in shock at the speed.
Even he could not completely avoid it.
Dark matter surged from the wound at once, swallowing the lingering destructive breath. Underworld energy followed, knitting flesh back together as if his body refused to accept damage.
Imu watched the healing, eyes narrowing.
"Hmph. You can't use rubber's elasticity to blunt my attacks like the Sun God Nika," he said coldly, "but you heal fast. That Yomi power really is something."
He calculated quietly.
Could he actually finish Brook here, before Brook retreated back into the New World?
His gaze flicked, cold and predatory, toward the battle where the Four Elders were clashing with the Four Hell Kings.
If Imu personally stepped in, even those Hell Kings would not survive two exchanges.
Since killing Brook outright seemed unlikely right now, he would take interest instead.
He would kill one or two Hell Kings and force Brook into hiding.
Let Brook shrink back into the New World and never dare walk out.
As long as Brook stepped into the Grand Line or the Four Seas, Imu would hunt him down personally.
"What are you thinking?" Brook's voice turned sharp. "Your face is way too obvious."
Dark energy exploded outward. His wounds sealed completely. The joke drained from his tone, replaced by something colder.
He could not afford to hold back anymore.
Imu chuckled.
"Heh. Will you kill them?" he asked, voice almost playful. "Or will you write another apology letter to Poseidon, like that idiot Joyboy did?"
Imu would not descend into Fishman Island's deep sea, but the two ancient texts there were already part of his knowledge.
Brook's gaze darkened.
"Hmph. Imu, you came here on purpose," he said, voice steady. "You wanted to keep me away from the battlefield. Stop me from absorbing the souls of war to strengthen myself."
He lifted his sword slightly, the Seven Star Demon Sword humming with black intent.
"Are you afraid, King of the World?"
Imu's eyes were calm, almost indifferent.
"You think I fear approaching New World?" he asked. "You've been using the New World's suppression to look for a way to deal with me."
He spoke like someone stating facts on a ledger.
"Unlike Joyboy, neither of us is some hot blooded fool who rushes forward on a pure heart. We plan. We choose the time, the place, the people."
His gaze sharpened.
"That's why we stand at the top."
"And Joyboy, Poseidon, Rocks…"
Imu's voice cooled into something final.
"They became history."
-------------
Imu had absolute confidence in his destructive power.
Brook could not endure it for long. If not for the strange nature of the Dark Dark Fruit, Brook would have already died, exactly as Imu had planned.
His eyes flicked toward his subordinates, and irritation tightened his face.
Useless.
Not a single one of them had managed to kill the Five Yama of the Hell Pirates. After living for so long, being stalled by pirates in their thirties and forties felt like a personal insult.
And Peter, the blond Elder, was actually being suppressed by Linlin.
What kind of joke was this?
"Imu," Brook called, seeing the shift in his intent and stepping in to drag his attention back. "After living this long, aren't you tired yet? Hiding in Mary Geoise and pulling strings from the shadows, what's the fun in that?"
Brook raised the Seven Star Demon Sword and charged without hesitation, fearless even against the aura of destruction wrapping Imu like a storm.
The blade cut into the warped space around Imu.
The divine weapon trembled violently.
The recoil jolted Brook, forcing his eyes to sharpen.
Imu's gaze narrowed, and for the first time, something like genuine interest appeared.
"That sword," he said coldly. "It has that much Gungnir steel."
He remembered Elbaf's treasure.
Odin's Spear, forged entirely from indestructible Gungnir steel, a divine metal even he had coveted. He had shattered countless Supreme Grade blades over the centuries, yet this sword held in the distortion and did not break.
Eight hundred years ago, he had wanted to seize Elbaf's national treasure.
But after destroying the great kingdom and killing Joyboy, Mother Nature's curse fell on him. He could not remain in the back half of the New World, and he lost his chance to invade Elbaf personally.
After that, he relied on Uranus to keep the giant kingdom in line, forbidding the giants from sailing on a large scale. He threatened their kings, and forced the more pacifist giants to feed manpower to the navy and the World Government.
Brook retreated after a single strike, not pressing recklessly into the distortion.
Even as he backed away, he could not resist twisting the knife.
"So you never got Gungnir from the Giant King after all these years?" he mocked. "Eight hundred years, and you still couldn't take it?"
Imu's destructive power could warp and tear space itself. It felt even more terrifying than Newgate's space shattering might.
And yet, this old immortal was staring at a little bit of Gungnir in Brook's hands like it was a miracle.
Brook's contempt deepened.
The World Government had ruled for eight hundred years, but what did it actually build? It felt even more backward than the great civilizations of a thousand years ago. Imu had ancient weapons like Uranus, knew about abandoned robots and lost technology, yet never truly studied any of it.
Even after suppressing Elbaf for so long, he still failed to extort even a fraction of that divine metal.
Brook realized, again, that he might have overestimated Imu's so called wisdom.
Imu snorted, irritation flashing across his face.
"Thunder Destruction Cannon!"
He raised his index and middle fingers together, snapped them upward, and fired an exaggerated white beam at Brook, like a monstrous cannon of light.
It hit Brook squarely, aiming to erase him in a single blast.
When Imu had subdued the giants, he had only demanded manpower for the navy. He had not tried to take their spear. The giants of that era were young, reckless, and unafraid of death, not easy prey.
And after the victory, the Twenty Kings had been eager to end the Hundred Years' War and enjoy their new world. They wanted to rule, recover, and rebuild their bloodlines.
Brook did not dare absorb this beam with darkness.
Not this one.
Instead, he used the newest secret technique he had developed.
"The Secret of the Underworld."
Brook's eyes sharpened, and his voice dropped into something ancient and heavy.
"The Gate of Hell!"
A ghostly sacrifice formed an anchor in front of him. For a brief moment, Brook forced open a portal, a cold, gray gate that did not belong in the living world.
The beam of destruction slammed into it.
And vanished.
Brook had always known the Gate of Hell could exile souls. He had even wanted to develop it further, to banish living enemies straight into Underworld Hell.
But it could not pass living flesh.
At least, not yet.
Still, it could swallow energy attacks, and that alone made it invaluable. Otherwise this awakening would be nothing but a niche trick, useful only against soul based abilities.
More importantly, Brook wanted to test something.
Could Imu's destruction disturb the supreme existence hidden in Underworld Hell?
Redfield's eight hundred million volt lightning pillar had done nothing. Kaido's Naraku Dragon Breath had caused no ripple, no reaction, nothing at all.
Brook's curiosity about Underworld Hell was nearly equal to his desire to defeat Imu and rule the world.
Because if he could uncover the true secret of the Underworld, he might reach beyond this sea and sky.
He might not have to become the second immortal Imu trapped in one world forever.
The blinding beam shot through the Gate of Hell, raced along the Yellow Springs Road, crossed the Naihe Bridge, and crashed deep into the gray abyss.
For an instant, far away, a hazy palace like shadow appeared in that depth.
Then the sacrifice soul was burned away completely, and the Gate of Hell vanished as if it had never existed.
But right before it disappeared, a faint roar rolled through the air.
Brook and Imu both froze.
Their hearts turned cold.
Their souls seemed to pause for a heartbeat.
Both of their pupils shrank. Sweat broke across their foreheads, and fear, raw and unfamiliar, crawled up their spines.
It was the pressure of something higher.
A soul so absolute it felt like it could wipe them out with a thought.
"What was that?" Imu gasped, staring at Brook as if seeing him for the first time. His voice rose into a furious roar. "What the hell was that?!"
He refused to believe it.
He was the King of the World, bearer of the highest Conqueror's Haki. There was no one who should be able to make him tremble, to make his legs shake, to draw fear out of his bones.
And yet it had happened.
Imu clenched his fists, murderous intent boiling over as he locked onto Brook.
This Yomi Fruit user could not be allowed to live.
Was that aura the presence of a true god?
No.
This world would never allow a true god to appear.
Imu was the only god here.
The only God of Destruction.
Brook, however, stood stunned, eyes wide, caught between terror and a thrill that made his blood sing.
"Could it be…" he whispered, voice shaking with excitement. "The real God of Hell?"
If that presence was real, then this world held more than one system of power.
At the very least, Underworld Hell was a place of secrets far beyond what anyone understood.
And if that was true…
Then Brook might not be trapped here forever.
He might actually have a path to other worlds.
.....
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