Chapter Twelve: The Spirit Fruit

Two months later, Buffon was aboard the Rumba pirate ship, repairing the shattered bones of Brook, whom he had reduced to smithereens.

Brook mumbled quietly, “If you’ve got the guts, fight me with swords only. Let’s settle it with pure swordsmanship.”

Buffon indulged him; after restoring Brook’s body, he borrowed Autumn Water from Ryuma and handed it to Brook.

“Here, a black blade for you!”

Brook refused, “I’m more comfortable with my own ledger sword.”

Without another word, Buffon sheathed Autumn Water at his waist, stepping ten paces away from Brook.

The two exchanged a glance, then both placed their hands on their sword hilts.

“Yohohoho, Buffon, here I come!” Brook declared.

Moments later, a flash of yellow and red sword light cut through the air. The two switched positions, their blades returned to their sheaths.

Simultaneously, they whispered the names of their signature moves.

Brook: “Three-Tone Nose Song!”

Buffon: “Dragon-Slash Flash!”

Brook’s bones scattered across the deck. Buffon tossed Autumn Water back to Ryuma and once again set about repairing Brook’s skeleton.

As he left, Buffon casually snatched an empty treasure chest from the ship’s cabin.

Upon returning to the castle, Buffon placed the Spirit Fruit inside the chest, then made his way to the banquet hall in search of Moria.

Moria, as usual, was sprawled on the floor. Despite Buffon’s height having grown to 268 centimeters, he still seemed a dwarf beside Moria.

But that meant little.

“Keeheeheeheeheehee! Buffon, why aren’t you in the lab continuing your corpse-stitching art today? What brings you to the banquet hall? Want to watch me cut shadows?”

Buffon said nothing, though inwardly he mused, “Frankly, if you were back in my world, you’d be nothing more than a shadow puppeteer. Maybe the inspiration for your character in the original story came from such an art.”

As he thought, Buffon handed over the treasure chest. “For Perona.”

Hearing it was for Perona, Moria’s interest was piqued. He sat upright from his half-reclined posture.

If Buffon was giving Perona ‘toys’ or anything ordinary, there’d be no need to go through Moria. This meant the contents of the chest were anything but ordinary.

Moria opened the chest without delay.

“Keeheeheeheeheehee! Buffon, you—” Moria was already tongue-tied, unsure what to say.

Though he himself possessed abilities, it did not mean Devil Fruits held any less value for him than for ordinary folk.

Quite the opposite. Having experienced the boost from his own fruit, he knew all the more how precious Devil Fruits were.

After composing himself, Moria asked seriously, “Why don’t you eat it yourself?”

“I don’t want to become a landlubber,” Buffon replied.

That reason was unassailable.

“So, what do you want in exchange?” Moria pressed, becoming solemn again.

“I lack nothing. Just don’t tell Perona it’s from me.”

Buffon turned and walked out, giving Moria no chance to reply.

“Keeheeheeheeheehee!” Moria’s sinister laughter echoed through the castle for a long time.

That night, while Buffon was patching up Oars in Ice Storage No. 900, he was summoned again to the banquet hall.

Moria and Perona were both present, the Spirit Fruit placed before them.

Seeing Buffon enter, Moria’s grin split his face wide.

“Keeheeheeheeheehee! Buffon! Perona is like my own daughter. This fruit gives her a second life. I won’t conceal its origin.

I, Moria, promise you: as long as it’s not to harm Perona, anything within my power, I will do for you.”

“Mm.” Buffon responded coldly, though inwardly thought, “Tricky Moria—wasn’t I clear not to tell Perona? This doting father act…”

Moria’s promise meant little to Buffon, at least from the perspective of a pirate emperor.

Seeing Moria so earnest, Perona nodded seriously. “Thank you, Buffon!”

Her large eyes blinked, and tears threatened to spill.

Perona felt that, apart from Moria, Buffon was the second person who truly cared for her in all these years.

Though he was always aloof, every gift he gave her was something no one else in the world could offer.

“Keeheeheeheeheehee! Perona, eat it quickly! Buffon and I are eager to see what power this fruit holds!” Moria urged.

Biting her lip, Perona nodded, then grabbed the “white dragon fruit” and took a big bite.

Instantly, an indescribable sensation surged from her stomach to her throat.

Discomfort, and more discomfort—not only physical, but spiritual. Especially the deepest memories in her heart, which seemed magnified a thousandfold by the fruit’s entry.

Childhood shadows, the pain of losing loved ones—it all threatened to suffocate her.

She began to tear at her hair, rolling on the floor.

Moria couldn’t bear to watch. He remembered his own experience eating a fruit was hardly any better, but still…

“Kumashi, come hold Perona,” Moria ordered.

Kumashi, waiting outside the door, rushed in at once.

Just as he was about to intervene, Buffon stopped him.

Buffon produced silk thread, threading a needle and stitching Perona to the floor in one swift motion.

“Get out of my head, you annoying ghosts!” Perona growled deeply.

“Is it about to happen?” Buffon wondered silently.

Moria’s demeanor changed completely; hearing the word ‘ghost,’ his worries vanished.

On this pitch-black, zombie-infested Thriller Bark, nothing could be more fitting than ghosts.

Yet Perona seemed to be struggling against herself, not summoning any ghosts.

At that moment, Buffon had an idea.

He switched the fruit to the Yellow Spring state, found an angle Moria couldn’t see, and unleashed the ghost power of the Yellow Spring Fruit.

Buffon knew well that Perona was actually timid at heart, though she hid it behind bravado.

A luminous yellow skeletal phantom drifted from Buffon toward Perona.

Perona caught sight of the apparition from the corner of her eye, her whole body stiffened, and she cried out, trembling, “Don’t come near me! Stay away, ah—”

Then her body fell still. A shadow identical to herself floated out from her form.

It laughed in Perona’s exact voice: “Ho-le! Ho-le! Ho-le!”

Buffon, seeing the process succeed, quickly switched back to the Stitch-Stitch Fruit, and the yellow ghost vanished.

Perona’s soul hovered in the air. Moria laughed heartily, “Keeheeheeheeheehee! The Spirit Fruit is a perfect match for Thriller Bark.”

As for the yellow ghost, Moria assumed it was some phenomenon arising from the fruit’s fusion.

Perona’s soul circled Buffon several times, then whispered—only audible to him—“Buffon, was that ghost just now you?”

Buffon gave no response.

Perona’s soul was unfazed; she spun lightly, soared upward, and called out in a voice that echoed throughout the castle, “Thank you, Buffon!”

Buffon silently pondered, “The strongest Paramecia fruit, eh?”