A cloud of dust rose in the distance.
Woohoo!
"Yohohoho, yohohoho! Miss Zombie, Mr. Zombie, please don't chase
anymore, my heart is about to jump out of my chest!"
A skeleton dashed past, clutching his afro, legs shaking in terror.
"Ah, even though I no longer have a heart!"
He barely noticed his companions nearby, flailing wildly, screaming in frantic fear.
"Help ! Miss Zombie, can I see your underwear? And please don't bite my foot!"
---
"Oh no, this is bad, I'm about to be surrounded."
Brook scanned the horde of zombies closing in with nacing groans.
"My apologies, Miss Zombie. Please forgive my rudeness," he said as he drew his cane-sword.
With a speed imperceptible to ordinary eyes, he slashed a terrifying zombie woman clinging to his pants, sending her flying.
"Yohohoho! Enthusiastic zombies, I don't have the at you crave! My flesh has rotted long ago!"
Brook leapt lightly, landing atop zombies' heads, evading their grasp in a blur.
Though a tide of zombies might terrify ordinary people, Brook had lived decades alone in the Devil's Triangle.
Human interaction had always unnerved him, and this isolation made him far more comfortable among undead creatures than the living.
Yet, even he was cautious here.
Solitude had sharpened his instincts, and decades of loneliness had tempered his patience.
Only the Straw Hats' exuberance distracted him from his inner unease.
Shirogai observed quietly, eyes narrowed, reflecting on Brook's illusion.
Over fifty years, Brook had teetered on the edge of madness, surviving only through sheer will.
His encounter with Gekko Moriah had nearly broken him, yet he erged stronger, retaining his consciousness amid chaos.
"That skeleton isn't as simple as you imagine," Moriah had once said to Shirogai with a strange laugh.
Initially, Brook had been violent, even deadly, tearing apart the zombies Moriah deployed aboard the Terrorist Three-Masted Ship.
Moriah had tried to recruit him but had abandoned the idea after witnessing Brook's ferocity.
He had taken only Brook's shadow before casting him back into the sea.
Now, Shirogai saw the sa skeleton, tempered and self-aware, moving with purpose amid his illusions.
"Perhaps those missing ships were destroyed by that skeleton. Who knows?" Moriah had mused.
Shirogai smiled faintly as a mory surfaced: Imu had indeed contacted Brook.
So of the ships that vanished in the Devil's Triangle had been destroyed by the skeleton musician himself.
---
"Awoo!"
Franky sped backward, hands transforming into machine guns, firing relentlessly at the empty ground behind him.
Occasionally, he extended chanical fists or hardened his body into shields, blocking long-range attacks.
"Bastards! You think I'm afraid of brainless robots?!"
Franky transford his body into a motorcycle, two wheels appearing where his limbs had been.
The engine roared as he revved, black smoke trailing from his exhaust as he fled.
Despite appearances, Franky didn't want to run.
Too many tallic humanoid robots surrounded him, firing bullets and cannonballs.
His destructive cannonballs were ineffective; the robots reford as if immortal.
Even when split in half, the deep silver liquid of their bodies rged into new forms.
This endless regeneration left Franky on the defensive, dodging continuously to avoid being surrounded.
"What remarkable regenerative ability… just like Shirogai's mory tal," Franky thought, inspired.
If he could emulate this ability, a single person could beco an entire army.
"These robots… they are weapons," he realized, and his mind raced with possibilities.
---
Shirogai, observing silently, couldn't help but chuckle.
He had intended for Franky to experience the intersection of artificial intelligence and human ingenuity.
Yet true to his na, Franky saw no humanity in the lesson.
Instead, he embraced the robots' T-1000-like abilities as a tool to weaponize himself—and he succeeded.
"Awoo! You unkillable monsters, let
test my new powers!"
Franky reverted to human form, spinning around as his hands morphed into silver scythes.
He slashed at two T-1000 robots ambushing him.
Puff! Heads flew from the robots under Franky's scythe strikes.
Simultaneously, one T-1000 severed Franky's own head.
"Ah ah ah ah!"
On the Takoyaki No. 8 ship, Kemi, the rmaid, scread, tongue out and hands clutching her face:
"Luffy, pervert Franky's head was cut off!"
Luffy froze, gripping the railing, sweat beading on his face.
Franky's head lay on the ground while his body remained upright.
"This guy…"
Sanji frowned, hesitant:
"He… didn't really have an accident, did he?"
"No," Zoro said calmly. "He'll be fine."
Zoro spoke from experience; he had 'died' dozens of tis facing the unkillable, dual-wielding masked n in the illusions.
Each ti, he regained strength after collapsing, fully aware of the chanics of the illusion.
Franky, however, appeared to have perfected a real T-1000-like self-reconstruction.
---
Kemi covered her face in horror.
Gurgling, Franky's neck stump writhed as his fallen head transford into deep silver liquid, slithering back to rejoin his body.
Within seconds, his head reford perfectly.
He had successfully mimicked the T-1000's regenerative abilities, achieving immunity to physical damage under his own control.
---
"Well done," Shirogai said with a satisfied smile.
"The Weapon Fruit has incredible potential, and Franky has grasped his path first among the crew."
---
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