Prelude to the Summit War

The Lucky-Lucky Fruit was indeed powerful.

As long as Baccarat's luck was maxed out, let alone hurting her, enemies could not even get close—tripping while walking, weapons jamming, even hitting themselves. All sorts of bizarre accidents could make someone question their life.

But its weakness was just as obvious: once her luck ran out, she was no different from an ordinary pirate with a bounty over a hundred million. Relying purely on physical combat would basically be a lost cause.

Now that she had an opportunity to make up for that weakness, how could she possibly refuse?

"But it'll take a while," Brook said, scratching his cheek with a hint of embarrassment. "This synthesis nearly emptied out our stock of Zoan Fruits. The ones left... aren't good enough for you."

Aside from the Azure Dragon Form and Pink Eastern Dragon Form he had deliberately reserved for himself and Hermione, all that remained were common goods like the Dog-Dog Fruit: Dachshund Form, Ox-Ox Fruit: Yak Form, and Mole Fruit.

Which of his crew members did not at least have an Ancient Zoan, if not a Mythical Zoan?

Ordinary Zoans like those were far too shabby to offer anyone.

Brook added, "But I reserved the Probability Fruit for you. Pair it with your Lucky-Lucky Fruit—tsk tsk, just thinking about the effect is absurd."

Baccarat froze where she stood.

He had even thought of that for her...

It was not something he had mentioned offhand. He had planned it long ago.

Her tears immediately streamed down, impossible to stop.

So this was... what it felt like to be sincerely treated as a companion?

"All right, don't cry." Brook handed her a handkerchief, his tone gentle. "We're family. No need to be polite."

At that moment, Nami—or rather, three Namis—came bouncing over.

"Brook, Brook!