With Bullet's ability to mass-produce extremely high-quality weapons, even artillery, expansion became effortless. A few movements, a bit of stamina, and the weapons were ready.
This alone fueled the Brotherhood's explosive growth.
In the dark world, it took only a short time for the Brotherhood to rise to the top, becoming the undisputed dark king and a true giant of the arms trade, controlling the majority of the weapons market.
The former arms giant, Loma, was crushed in the competition and ultimately killed. He did not just lose in business, but also in connections.
With Bullet standing behind the Brotherhood, countless people were willing to give face. They abandoned their dealings with Loma and turned to the Brotherhood instead.
One reason was simple. The weapons Bullet produced were genuinely outstanding.
The Brotherhood swiftly swallowed all of Loma's remaining forces, including his weapon manufacturing factories. They understood clearly that they could not rely on Bullet alone forever. They needed their own foundation.
The Brotherhood's rise was nothing short of legendary. From its establishment to becoming a world-class dark giant, only eight months passed. Of course, this miracle was built on Bullet's overwhelming power.
Absolute strength inspired absolute confidence.
Bullet's might had been proven repeatedly. He showed no fear toward Kaido or Big Mom and challenged Whitebeard time and time again, each battle lasting several days and nights.
He challenged Golden Lion less often. Some believed this was because Golden Lion specialized in aerial combat, limiting Bullet's ability to fully exert his power. More importantly, Whitebeard was recognized as the strongest man in the world. Fighting him was the clearest way to measure one's own strength.
Speaking of legends, the founder of the Brotherhood was one as well.
And it was not two people.
It was one.
Hans Hote, the current overseer of the Brotherhood, was also its nominal leader alongside Douglas Bullet.
He was an extremely ambitious man. Not yet thirty, he had already established five organizations. The fifth was the Brotherhood. Without exception, the previous four had failed, or rather, been destroyed.
Many had heard of his reputation. He was capable, decisive, and sharp. Under his leadership, each organization had grown rapidly and shown tremendous potential in just a few years.
Yet every time, they were crushed by powerful forces.
Even Loma had once noticed his potential and attempted to recruit him. Hote rejected him outright.
Who was Loma? The dark king of the New World, a man who controlled most of the arms trade across the New World and even the Grand Line. How could he tolerate rejection from a nobody?
With a casual gesture, Loma erased Hote's organization.
Hote did not give up.
After narrowly escaping death, he rebuilt. And again, just as his force began to rise, it was destroyed. This happened four times in a row.
He faced death repeatedly and survived each time by the slimmest margin.
Eventually, everyone knew he had offended Loma. No one dared support him. Loma's pursuit never stopped, and the drawn-out vendetta even became a joke in the dark world.
During that period, others tried to recruit Hote. He rejected them all.
He refused to work for others for free, and more importantly, he understood that once he joined someone else, his life and death would no longer be his own. That was unacceptable.
After enduring this series of crushing defeats, Hote finally understood one truth.
He needed power.
True power.
Without it, anything he built could be destroyed at will, and the fruits of his labor would be taken by others.
So he sought power.
The fastest path was a Devil Fruit, but powerful abilities were rare, and mastering one took years. He could not wait that long.
Thus, he needed a backer.
A powerful one.
Someone who would not shackle him, who would allow him to fully display his talents, and who could provide overwhelming support.
Did such a person exist?
Yes.
That was why Hote spent so long searching for Bullet. He understood Bullet's philosophy and knew exactly what kind of man he was dealing with.
Trusting his own ability, Hote faced a monster who could kill him effortlessly.
Only by facing such strength directly could he truly understand how terrifying the world was.
According to intelligence reports, Hote met Bullet for about ten minutes.
What they discussed was unknown. But without question, Hote's eloquence convinced Bullet.
Afterward, Hote boldly established the Brotherhood, almost as if he wanted the entire world to know.
It was a miracle.
As the news spread, the Brotherhood attracted many powerful individuals, with numerous bounties exceeding one hundred million. At that time, Bullet had challenged several New World overlords in succession, and his fame was at its peak. Underground betting pools even formed, wagering on who he would challenge next.
The Brotherhood's rise became unstoppable.
Someone later discovered that Bullet had once dined at the Brotherhood's headquarters.
From that moment on, even Loma no longer dared to touch Hote or the Brotherhood.
And soon, he no longer could.
The Brotherhood's power expanded rapidly. Even if it lacked top-tier experts in large numbers, it was already beyond what major forces could deal with easily.
With power finally in hand, Hote fully unleashed his abilities.
He immediately annexed the Brotherhood's headquarters, located in Bullet's own territory, Punch Island, named for its fist-like shape.
The island was steeped in combat culture. Fighting tournaments, underground boxing rings, and black-market matches were common.
It was chaos.
And chaos meant profit.
The Brotherhood took control of the island with ease.
Under Hote's management, it developed at a terrifying pace, generating immense profits and allowing him to establish unquestioned authority within the organization.
Although many viewed him as Bullet's spokesperson, Hote was well aware that most people joined for Bullet alone.
So he proved his worth.
He brought enormous profits and earned internal recognition. He established strict rules, ensuring members received fair rights and benefits.
He understood this clearly. Ideals were fleeting. Only profit could truly bind people together.
This was the rise of the Brotherhood.
And the rise of Hans Hote.
A true legend.
Back on Birka, Enel felt both excited and burdened. The test loomed ahead. It was his opportunity, but also his obstacle. Only by passing it could he truly join them.
This place did not accept people easily.
He clenched his fists, trembling slightly. It was not fear, but resolve.
Teach's words echoed in his mind.
The ship doesn't take weaklings.
"What's your name?" Teach asked, a faint but oppressive smile on his face.
"Huh?" Enel froze for a moment, then quickly replied, "E-Enel."
"Alright, Enel," Teach nodded. "We'll discuss the assessment later. For now, we're heading to Birka town."
His gaze shifted toward the distant city.
With that, Teach moved forward. Redyat walked beside him, while the rest of the crew followed behind.
More than a thousand people advanced toward Birka.
Enel remained standing for a moment, watching the Nightfall Pirates pass him one by one. He was still an outsider, unsure of where he belonged.
"Don't just stand there, kid. Come along." A crew member patted his shoulder and laughed.
"Oh. Okay." Enel nodded, falling into step with the group.
He was tense, constantly glancing around. The crew member beside him chuckled.
"If you've got questions, ask."
Enel took a deep breath. "Um… who are you?"
Several surprised looks immediately fell on him.
"You don't even know who we are?" the man exclaimed.
"What's wrong?" Enel asked, confused. "I've lived in Birka my whole life. I've never been to the Blue Sea."
"Then why don't you have wings?" the man blurted out, eyeing the bandages on Enel's back. "Were they cut off?"
As he spoke, he imagined Enel being bullied, beaten, and having his wings torn away.
His gaze softened with pity.
Enel stiffened, then hurriedly explained, "No. My father was from the Blue Sea. I probably have half Blue Sea blood, so I didn't grow wings. He was exiled before I was born."
They understood immediately. Exile meant being set adrift on the vast sea, without oars, left to fate.
"We're the Nightfall Pirates," the man said with a grin.
"Pirates?"
"Yes. If you join us, you'll soon understand what the Nightfall Pirates truly represent."
He spoke with obvious pride.
"What about him?" Enel asked, recalling Teach. "Your leader."
"Our captain," the man said reverently, "the Dark Emperor, Marshall D. Teach. A monster strong enough to destroy an island with ease. The embodiment of absolute power."
Enel's pupils shrank.
Destroy an island.
The title Dark Emperor etched itself deeply into his mind.
At the same time, in the heart of Birka, news had already reached the central temple.
Panic spread throughout the city. The God's Guards had been annihilated, something that had never happened in Birka's history. Over two thousand casualties, more than half of the God's Guard wiped out.
Two High Priests had fallen as well.
The Blue Sea invaders were approaching.
Although the sky had not fallen yet, it felt close.
Only one High Priest remained. Even with God still present, confidence was thin.
Many residents hid in their homes. Others packed their belongings and fled to nearby villages.
The enemy's target was clear.
Birka.
From afar, a dense mass of over a thousand Blue Sea people could already be seen advancing.
At the temple, the most magnificent structure in the city, the atmosphere was suffocating.
More than seven hundred remaining God's Guards stood outside, tense but unmoving. They did not flee. This was their homeland. Protecting it was their duty.
And they still believed in God's power.
Inside the temple stood only two figures.
The current God, Zesu, and the last High Priest.
Zesu's expression was dark. Over two thousand lives lost, the majority of the temple's strength. Recovering from such a blow would take an unthinkable amount of time.
Unlike the High Priest's fear, Zesu felt only rage.
Since becoming God, no one had ever dared challenge his authority.
He was not old, under forty, and had ruled for barely over a decade. Each generation of God selected and trained a successor long before death, passing on power and authority.
This ambitious God had never expected Birka to suffer such devastation at the hands of Blue Sea intruders.
His future plans were ruined. Recovery would take time.
He had originally planned to invade Angel Island personally, conquer it, and claim God's Island.
A faint white mist spread through the temple, lowering the temperature and chilling the air.
The High Priest shuddered.
He knew this was God's power.
And within his fear, a spark of fanaticism ignited. He believed firmly in God's strength.