Happy Halloween to my Readers! Here's a tiny filler arc for you!

It has been fifty-seven years since the execution of the Second Pirate King, Monkey D. Luffy, and he has left a legacy in his wake so great that some say he was more legendary than the First King, Gol D. Rogers. But like the last Pirate King, at his execution, he told the world that he had again hidden the One Piece for the world to find. Many saying it was the start of the next Age of Piracy, but then, war broke out among two families: The Monkey family and the Cobra family. After four decades of bloodshed, the war finally subsided. And nineteen years later, a member of the Cobra family set out on a quest to obtain the One Piece, his name is Cobra D. Red. P.S. I wonder how many people actually read this paragraph every time.

Fighting your Friends?! The Mask-Maker Attacks!

Staring at them from the shadows, all they could make out from the light of Red's torch was the bottom half of his legs, which weren't too pleasant. The feet were bruised and callused over from years of traveling barefoot, and the toes were mangled from the toenails growing too long and being gnawed away. As he walked forward, more of his figure was revealed, and, if possible, was even more revolting than his feet. Scars covered his chest, each with a sickly tinge of purple as if infection had spread in them, and there were several words carved into his flesh, all of them saying the same thing: "Escape". But those weren't the most terrifying features. His arms were extremely long, reaching down to his knees, and whatever distance was left between his hands and the floor, was covered by insanely long fingers. Each one was knobby and thin, as if the flesh was stretched out on the bone; with bits of flesh and blood clinging to the undersides of jagged nails. His smile, as he drew closer, became ever prevalent: his lips tinged with red, probably from the blood of the dead animals, his teeth, black and jagged, as if he was a monster straight from a nightmare.

He began to laugh again as they took in his features, a gurgling laugh that filled the cavern. "So, you've never seen anyone that looks like me, have you?"

In a small voice, Red responded with the only thing he could think of: "What are you?" Chortling again, the lanky man spread his arms out, his nightmarish fingers extending, as if to present his horrific body, "Well, I'm human, don't'cha know?" Red merely shook his head, standing tall and regaining some of his mettle. "No," he said, anger alight in his eyes, "Nothing that does the things you do can ever be human." Lanky laughed, scratching something on his cheek, and lowered his hand, leaving a red stain of blood behind, "For the sake of survival, any man is willing to do something they found abhorrent a week ago."

Deciding not to argue, Red instead thought of a different approach: his fists. "Jet!" Shooting forward like a bullet, slammed his fist into the Lanky man, or at least, where he had been. Sliding to a stop on the smooth stone floor, he looked around, trying to catch a sight of his foe. Suddenly, out of the shadows, a hand leapt out, it's extremely long fingers wrapping around his arm as he was lifted into the air and slammed into the side of the cave. He may be thin, thought Red as he staggered to his feet, but he sure as hell isn't weak. Leaping into the air, Red caught ahold of a root that had drilled its way into the cave and he glanced back down, just to see he was in hot pursuit. Gripping him by the legs, he started to use his weight to pull him down, clinging for a few seconds, just to be brought down hard. Leaping back to his feet again, Red looked into the darkness, trying to get another glimpse of him. Seeing the lanky form run off into the shadows again, he chased him into it, only to meet someone else standing there.

"Miles?" Red said, baffled as to why Miles was there, "What the hell are you doing, get out of my way. But Miles only answered with a sinister smile and a mean right hook to the jaw. Clambering to his feet, Red spit blood out of his mouth as he looked at Miles. Or Fake Miles, because for a split second, his face seemed to phase out of existence, but was quickly replaced by the brute's ugly face. "You're probably wondering how I can do that, right?" Unsure how to answer, Red simply nodded, which gave the guy another reason to give an ugly smile. "A few days after my boat had crashed here, and everyone else except me died, I happened upon a strange fruit," he said, about to continue, but Red already knew how the story would continue, "It was colorful, and covered in fantastic swirls, and I was tempted to eat it, but I didn't. I didn't want to risk poisoning myself, so I refrained from eating it," he broke out grinning as he recalled the memory, "But it didn't take long for a grumbling stomach to change my mind, and I ate it. Every. Last. Piece."

He chortled again, as if recalling the day his life changed. "One day I saw a boat. I didn't and still don't know how to make a fire, so I tried to swim out to it. My knees buckled under me before I could make it waist deep," his grin now turned to a scowl, as the memory of losing his ability to swim struck him, "I was stuck. And I couldn't leave. About several weeks later, when my stomach had nearly dried up, I happened upon a dead body. It was a man, a fisherman perhaps. I didn't care, all I saw before me was food. After I had eaten, there was a few scraps still on my face, and I grabbed them, touching my face in the process. My body had changed. Digging through his clothes, I found a pocket mirror, and the face staring back at me was his. I could transform into anyone I wanted, and that's how I made my plan." Curious, Red didn't stop him from going on, instead he motioned for him to continue, which the man seemed to revel in, glad at human contact after so many years.

"I would wait here, on this island, no matter how long it took, until someone with a boat came. I know how grotesque I appear to others," he paused, and smiled widely, "All the ones who came without a boat were definitely afraid as I killed them." At the thought of all those he had killed and stolen their bodies, he laughed, menacingly filling the cavern. "I would steal their bodies and use their boat to get off this island, and be able to rejoin society!" As the laughter started again, the scowl appeared back on Red's face. He thought he'd better do society a favor and never let him get off that island. Walking forward, he began clenching and unclenching his fist, preparing for the mean right hook he was about to deliver. But before he could deliver, the man noticed and changed back into Miles, getting just the reaction he wanted. Red, not willing to hit his friend, despite knowing it was the brute, hesitated, open for the knee delivered to his stomach.

Wind knocked out of him, he flew back into the wall and slid to the floor. Looking up, he saw the brute, now back in his own form walking towards him. Struggling to his feet, he swung into a roundhouse kick, prepared to knock him out in one blow. But, once again, he changed into Miles, letting the kick fly in front of his face as Red swerved his foot to avoid hitting him, leaving him open to be slammed in the back and to the ground.

Face in the dust, Red clenched his fist, ready to nail the guy in the face as soon as he got up. But as he tried to rise, he was slammed back down as a boot ground into his back. From the ground, he heard the man say, "You're an annoying one, I think I'll steal your body as a keepsake." Hearing this, Red wasn't prepared to let his body be taken that easily. Using all the strength in his arms, he pushed up, staggering the man, and leaped to his feet, and with fury in his eyes, he went on the attack. Slamming fist after fist into the man's body he never let up, even when he had him against the wall. He only stopped when he felt it was time for the finisher.

Feeling the let-up of punishment, the man opened his eyes, and was shocked to see Red's arm half made from water. Knowing that if he let the next hit land he would be finished, he touched his hand to his face again, changing into Miles again. But Red wasn't falling for it again. He knew that behind the cover of Miles' face, the Mask-Maker was still there. As he threw the punch, the water in his arm expanded, forming the rough shape of a fist in a wave as he shouted, "Torrent!", and slammed it into the man, cracking the wall and knocking him unconscious immediately.

Panting, Red stared at the limp form, feeling pity for someone who had been there for so long, but stopping short as he remembered that he had killed people for fun. Water dripped onto the unconscious form as his mouth hung open, most likely from a broken jaw. At least he won't be able to give boring monologues for a while, Red thought, a smile forming on his lips. Remembering his friends, he turned to help them, but instead found them untied and fine. Miles had managed to find his clothes and sword and put them on again, happy that he had them back. According to Bede, he had only suffered several bruises from his tumble down the valley, and he would be fine in a few days.

But what Henry had interested him the most. Apparently, the Mask-Maker, as they had dubbed him, had a set route for where to go once he got a ship. And it turned out to be just the island they were looking for. Looking at the directions, they realized they were within nearly eighteen miles of the island. Hurrying back to the ship, the speedily readied the craft and launched off, their sail blooming in the wind, as Red steered them towards their destination: The Island of Ilusia!