Later, Rayleigh spoke up in the group, asking for a training method to awaken Observation Haki, offering a Devil Fruit as payment.
Surprisingly, the senior actually agreed and gave it to him. Rayleigh was ecstatic, though he couldn't understand why that senior trusted him so much. Was he not afraid that Rayleigh might go back on his word?
Of course, Brook trusted Roger and Rayleigh—two men with the potential for Conqueror's Haki. Besides, the Roger Pirates rarely consumed Devil Fruits.
For Brook, holding onto the training method for Armament and Observation Haki was pointless. It was better to trade it early, gaining both respect from the Roger Pirates and a valuable Devil Fruit in return.
Thanks to this training, the Roger Pirates' strength grew rapidly, allowing them to escape multiple times from that relentless Rear Admiral. His Armament Haki was absurdly strong, and his mastery of the Rokushiki made him a fearsome opponent.
Now, that rabid Rear Admiral seemed addicted to the chase, constantly hounding the Roger Pirates, much to the frustration of Roger and Rayleigh.
After a grand welcoming feast, Newgate quickly blended into the Hell Pirates' crew. Unlike most pirates, these people viewed wealth as meaningless and prioritized strength above all else.
Every time Newgate saw the ship's walls gleaming with gold decorations, he had to resist the urge to pry off a piece to send back to his homeland.
"Newgate, just endlessly supporting your homeland isn't a sustainable solution," Brook remarked.
"You know the saying—'Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.' Instead of just sending money, we should plant our flag on Sphinx Island and train them in Haki and combat techniques. That way, they can grow strong on their own.
"Relying on you alone won't be enough to sustain them. If you keep spoon-feeding them, they'll only grow weaker."
Brook could see Newgate's hesitation. Only those who had experienced poverty truly understood the importance of wealth. The future Whitebeard might become incredibly strong, but when it came to logistics and development, he was completely lacking.
Even a brute like Kaido had factories and research divisions. Big Mom funded Caesar's research. Meanwhile, the Whitebeard Pirates spent their days drinking and feasting without even securing a proper stronghold!
"I understand, Captain Brook!"
Newgate had always given selflessly to his homeland, never once considering how to help them grow stronger. He simply wanted to protect them so they could live in peace.
Having been orphaned as a child, he had set sail as a pirate early on. He never received a proper education and had no idea how to create lasting development for his people. The concepts of sustainable growth and national strength were foreign to him.
Now, he was willing to take Brook's advice and find a better way to help his homeland rise and become truly safe.
"Come on, let's have a sparring match!"
Brook had just discovered a new ability—one that had likely existed all along but was only now being 'developed.'
"I've heard that most of your abilities target the soul itself, making them nearly impossible to guard against. I'd love to experience them firsthand!"
Newgate activated the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, his hands glowing with white energy as he faced Brook, his fighting spirit surging.
"Yohohoho! Relax, this technique isn't that strong yet. It shouldn't be able to hurt you."
Brook's casual tone did little to reassure the crew. The last time he developed a new ability—his 'Soul Music'—several crewmates had been knocked out instantly. The memory was still fresh in their minds. Now, everyone watched with bated breath, curious to see what he would unveil this time.
"Reaper's Descent! Gate of the Dead—Open! Path of the Underworld—Emerge!"
With Brook's shout, a massive spectral Grim Reaper materialized, looming over the crew. Suddenly, its torso split open, forming a ghostly green gateway. Beyond it stretched a road leading into the depths of the underworld.
"This is terrifying! Captain Brook, did you just open the gates of hell?!"
Shakky took a cautious step back, using Redfield as a human shield, her voice filled with alarm.
"Haha, maybe! Come forth—my spectral army!"
Out of the eerie gate, a few ghostly figures floated into the open. But there was no 'army'—just a handful of wandering souls.
"Wait... that ghost... doesn't it look like World Peace Dove News Agency's president, Toko?"
Shakky pointed at one of the spirits, her eyes widening in shock.
"Yeah! And that one—he's the slave trader who kidnapped me!"
Antonio gestured at another spirit—it was Disco, the former captain of a human trafficking ship.
"And over there—that's Poison Cannon Sharlin, the guy we killed back at the Sabaody Archipelago's bar! Wait... does this mean that anyone Captain Brook kills will have their soul trapped by him?!"
Shakky shrank further behind Redfield, peeking out at the eerie specters in fear.
"It seems like only those with a decent level of strength manifest clearly," Brook noted. He could see many fainter, indistinct souls—likely weaklings he had slain.
"Captain Brook can actually control ghosts? Does this mean spirits truly exist in this world???"
Shakky's worldview took a critical hit. Would she find decaying, unseen spirits lurking in her room? Under her bed? In her closet?
Her imagination ran wild, sending chills down her spine. Why were there no other women on this ship to share a room with? No, she had to cuddle with her memory seahorse tonight!
"Gurararara! It seems that becoming Captain Brook's enemy means not even the afterlife is an escape!"
Newgate watched the spirits with curiosity. Could his Tremor-Tremor Fruit destroy them? If physical attacks were useless, how was he supposed to fight them?
"Go! Show me what you can do!"
Brook commanded the green-eyed ghosts to charge at Newgate.
Newgate braced himself and swung a massive fist, but the ghosts passed right through his attack, striking him directly.
There was no pain, but a sudden chill ran through his body. It seemed ineffective at first, leaving Brook slightly embarrassed. The crew stood in silence as the ghosts continued to flail at Newgate—punching, kicking, biting—yet doing no visible damage.
However, after a moment, Newgate's expression shifted.
"Wait... they're draining my vitality!"
He quickly stepped back. The initial chill faded, replaced by a creeping exhaustion. His limbs grew cold, and his reflexes slowed noticeably.
+100 Chapters on p@treon/tambeerg