Every One Piece fan knows the feeling: you close a new volume, let out a satisfied sigh, and think the adventure’s over—until you flip a few more pages and discover the real treasure buried in the back.
Those bonus pages labeled “SBS” (short for Shitsumon o Boshū Suru?!, meaning “I’m Taking Questions!!”) are Eiichiro Oda’s secret playground—where his madness, mischief, and genius all come spilling out in equal measure.
For most manga, the story ends with the final chapter of the volume. But in One Piece, the SBS is a second story—one that reveals the mind of the creator himself. It’s where Oda answers fan questions, shares design sketches, tells off-color jokes, and occasionally drops lore so subtle that readers won’t realize its importance for years. If the manga is a grand epic, the SBS is its backstage diary: chaotic, hilarious, and unexpectedly profound.
And in Volume 101, Oda went all out.
The Chaos and Charm of the SBS
The SBS tradition began early in the series, and fans quickly realized Oda’s Q&A sessions were unlike any other. Instead of the sterile, PR-approved tone most creators use, Oda spoke like a gleeful mad scientist surrounded by sugar-high pirates.
Questions range from the insightful—“How does Haki work?”—to the absurd—“Can Luffy stretch everything?” (to which Oda usually responds with comedic fury or deadpan wit). Over time, this unpredictable blend of humor and insight became an essential part of One Piece’s culture.
The SBS is more than an extra feature—it’s a cultural ritual. Kids in Japan used to mail in questions from across the country, hoping Oda might draw their doodle or answer their silly idea. That connection between author and audience helped shape One Piece into a living world shared between its creator and millions of readers.
By Volume 101, the SBS had evolved into something greater: a hidden chronicle of the series’ production, packed with trivia, concept sketches, and playful banter that hint at what’s to come.
Behind the Desk: The Secrets of Volume 101
Released during the Wano Country saga, Volume 101’s SBS captures Oda in one of his most creative and experimental phases.
Fans expected humor—and got it—but they also found small revelations tucked between the jokes.
Among the highlights were Oda’s sketches of early concept designs for the characters who dominated the Wano arc: Yamato, Kaido, and several of the Nine Red Scabbards. These drawings showed just how much Oda refines his designs before they hit the page. For instance, Yamato’s early sketches leaned more heavily toward a “samurai prince” aesthetic before Oda found the perfect balance between fierceness and freedom. Seeing these ideas in raw form gave fans a rare glimpse into his process: even the most iconic looks begin as loose, messy drafts.
Then came the questions. One reader famously asked, “Can a Devil Fruit work on an animal that’s already eaten one?”—a question that touches on deep lore about how these powers operate. Oda’s response was teasingly evasive, but sharp-eyed fans noted that he didn’t completely deny the idea. Later in the series, this ambiguity resurfaced in unexpected ways—like the artificial Zoan models created by Vegapunk or the inanimate objects that somehow consumed Fruits. For lore hunters, every answer (or non-answer) in the SBS is a potential clue.
Oda also dropped one of his trademark “mini-lore” hints: a small aside about an unseen part of the world, a cultural custom, or a ship design that may one day tie into something larger. These tiny breadcrumbs are what make rereading SBS entries years later so rewarding—you realize Oda was foreshadowing events long before they reached the main story.
When Jokes Become Canon
Perhaps the most brilliant aspect of the SBS is how Oda uses comedy as camouflage for real world-building.
A reader might ask a ridiculous question—“What’s Zoro’s favorite shampoo?”—and Oda responds with an answer so absurd it sounds made up. But then, ten volumes later, a detail from that same response appears in a canon setting, either visually or in dialogue. It’s as if Oda hides truth inside nonsense, daring readers to separate the two.
Volume 101 carries on this tradition. A question about a minor animal character led to a response that subtly referenced one of Vegapunk’s experiments, suggesting even throwaway gags might have scientific grounding. Another fan asked about the family backgrounds of certain Wano citizens, and Oda’s vague but playful reply hinted that their bloodlines might connect to older pirate eras.
It’s this dual-layered humor that keeps fans hooked. Every SBS can be read as either pure comedy—or as a secret puzzle. It’s Oda’s way of saying: “You think this is just a joke? Keep reading.”
The Mythology of the “Oda Voice”
There’s also something deeply personal about Oda’s “voice” in these segments. The way he writes the SBS feels like you’re hearing him talk directly to you—no editors, no filters. It’s not the grand, mythic tone of One Piece’s narration, but the voice of a man grinning behind his desk, laughing at his own chaos.
He’s not afraid to tease readers or mock himself. In Volume 101, when one fan sent in a drawing of Oda as a handsome hero, he jokingly scolded them: “Stop lying to the children.” Another fan asked if Kaido’s horns were natural or part of his fashion—Oda half-joked that it “depends on the day.” It’s this irreverence that gives the SBS its charm.
But beneath the laughter, you can sense his respect for the fans’ curiosity. Oda often praises clever questions, and you can feel his delight when readers catch something he buried in the art months before. The SBS, in that sense, becomes a dialogue between creator and audience—a feedback loop that energizes the series itself.
The SBS as an Archive of World-Building
Over the decades, the SBS sections have quietly become one of the most valuable archives for understanding One Piece’s internal logic. Much of what fans know about character ages, birthdays, hometowns, and relationships comes from these Q&A sessions—not from the main story.
For example, we learned that Zoro was born in Shimotsuki Village, that Robin’s favorite flower is the sunflower, and that Brook can eat even though he doesn’t have organs—all through SBS answers. Without these pages, large chunks of the One Piece world would remain undefined.
Volume 101 continues that tradition, expanding the lore around the Wano region’s cultural quirks, confirming small character trivia, and even hinting at how the “New Era” of pirates will carry on the Will of D. Oda never explains it outright—but his teases keep theorists busy for years.
If the manga tells the story of the Straw Hats’ journey, the SBS tells the story of how that world works.
The Humor that Humanizes the Epic
It’s easy to forget that One Piece is written by a single human being, not a mythic committee of world-builders. The SBS reminds readers of that. Between deep lore drops, Oda will suddenly cut the tension with a joke about his editors, his sleep schedule (or lack thereof), or his obsession with snacks.
In Volume 101, he admitted to eating “dangerous” amounts of junk food while finishing the Wano chapters, claiming he needed sugar to “keep drawing through the night.” It’s small details like this that make readers feel like they’re peeking behind the curtain of a creative marathon. Oda is both the master of a billion-dollar franchise and the exhausted artist scribbling at 3 a.m.—and the SBS is where those two versions of him meet.
That humanity is part of what makes One Piece endure. The grand mythology feels grounded because the man building it isn’t hiding his flaws—he’s laughing through them with his audience.
A Portal Between Story and Reality
In some ways, the SBS functions as a meta-narrative device. It connects the real world of readers with the fictional world of the Grand Line. Oda will sometimes “break the fourth wall,” inviting fans into the story itself.
He’s even been known to “draw himself” as a creature inside the One Piece universe—often as a fish, panda, or strange blob wearing sunglasses. In Volume 101, he reappears in this tradition, jokingly claiming to be hiding among the samurai of Wano. It’s a running gag that blurs the boundaries between author and character, reminding us that Oda is part of the world he built.
This playful self-insertion makes the SBS not just supplemental—it’s a part of the canon’s texture. Fans often joke that Oda is the “true Devil Fruit user,” able to warp reality through ink and paper.
Easter Eggs and Emotional Notes
What’s fascinating about Volume 101’s SBS is how Oda balances humor with moments of sincerity. Between jokes, he takes the time to thank readers who grew up with One Piece, sharing letters from fans who started reading as children and are now adults with kids of their own. He writes back with warmth, calling the multi-generational fandom “the greatest treasure I could ever find.”
This emotional resonance separates Oda’s SBS from standard author commentaries. It’s not about self-promotion—it’s about connection. You can feel that he genuinely enjoys the bizarre questions, the wild theories, and even the pranks fans play on him. The SBS, in a sense, is One Piece’s beating heart outside of its pages.
It’s where Oda can laugh with his audience, hint at his plans, and remind everyone that behind the massive world of pirates and gods, there’s a storyteller who still loves to draw goofy doodles and answer weird questions from kids.
Why Volume 101 Matters
Volume 101 stands out because it sits at a turning point in One Piece’s history. The Wano saga was nearing its conclusion, the final saga was on the horizon, and Oda was reflecting more openly on his craft. The SBS pages feel like a time capsule—a snapshot of the artist as he prepared to steer his world toward its endgame.
Within those few pages, you can see the mix of exhaustion, excitement, and pride that comes from carrying a story for over two decades. He’s still cracking jokes, still trolling readers, but you can tell he’s also beginning to look back—to savor what this shared journey has meant.
The SBS Legacy
Taken together, the SBS sections across all 100+ volumes form an unofficial encyclopedia of One Piece. Scholars and superfans alike use them to track world-building continuity, production notes, and the evolution of Oda’s humor. In fact, many “canon facts” fans cite—like the birthdays of the Straw Hats or the mechanics of Log Poses—originated from these columns.
But the SBS is more than trivia. It’s the soul of One Piece distilled into conversation form: funny, messy, thoughtful, and bursting with life. It’s Oda’s ongoing reminder that stories aren’t built by one man alone—they’re built between the lines, with the laughter and curiosity of the people who read them.
Volume 101 doesn’t just continue that legacy—it celebrates it. It’s a master at work, pulling back the curtain for a moment, letting us glimpse the gears behind his grand world before diving right back into the sea.
The Real Treasure Hidden in the Margins
In a series obsessed with the idea of hidden treasure, perhaps it’s fitting that One Piece’s greatest secrets often lie in the margins rather than the main plot. The SBS has always been that secret trove—a place where humor and lore collide, where imagination feels infinite, and where readers become collaborators in Oda’s madness.
If One Piece is about chasing dreams across the ocean, then the SBS is about the joy of discovery itself—the thrill of realizing that even after a thousand chapters, there’s always more to find if you look closely enough.
So next time you pick up Volume 101, don’t stop when the story ends. Turn a few more pages. Because somewhere in the back, between the laughter, the sketches, and the nonsense, Eiichiro Oda is waiting—with another secret, another clue, and another reminder of why One Piece will never stop feeling alive.