Chapter 86: Vegapunk
New World - Punk Hazard Island
Originally, this island would have descended into chaos due to Caesar Clown's illegal research. But with Doflamingo's capture by Roy and Gion, his secret line to Caesar was completely severed.
Kaido, sensing the crisis, had recruited Caesar early for his own "Artificial Devil Fruit" project. As a result, the "Poison Gas Incident" never happened, and Punk Hazard remains an undamaged, top-secret research base for the World Government.
The heavy metal walls reflected a silver-gray light. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic, coolant, and ozone-scorched steel.
Deep in the corridors, an electronic door hissed open to reveal the main control room—
Dr. Vegapunk, the head of the Marine Science Division, was immersed in a sea of holographic projections and complex formulas.
He stood in the center of the massive room, his expression focused, fingers flying across a virtual keyboard.
"Target individual modification experiment... a stability rate of only 13.7%..."
He frowned, pulling up another database on a "Class-C War Criminal" test subject, his eyes weary but sharp.
However, just as he turned to grab his notes—
"FWOOSH."
There was no sound, no gust of wind.
A shadow simply appeared behind him, as if space itself had been torn open and quietly stitched shut.
"GUWAAAH!!"
Vegapunk shrieked, stumbling backward and nearly knocking over a rack of chemicals.
He spun around, and upon seeing the lazy, smiling face, he clutched his chest and roared, "Kid! Are you trying to give this old man a heart attack?!"
Standing behind him was the one face that was both familiar and a constant source of headaches—
Roy, dressed in civilian clothes, his hands in his pockets, that same casual smile on his face. "Long time no see, Doctor."
Vegapunk, while catching his breath, quickly walked to a console and typed in a long, encrypted code. In an instant, every surveillance device in the control room "died," automatically wiping the last minute of footage and replacing it with a pre-set, looping image.
The entire process was silent, flawless, and terrifyingly well-practiced.
"There. Now no one knows you were here," he sighed, wiping a bead of cold sweat from his brow. "The alarms didn't even make a sound. Your 'Space Jump' ability is getting ridiculous... Can't you at least call ahead next time? My old heart can't take this."
Roy shrugged. "If I called ahead, I'm pretty sure CP0 would have been here to 'chat' with you before I arrived."
"Tch..."
Vegapunk rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile. "If the World Government had your ability, I'd probably be dead ten times over."
He dusted off his lab coat, his tone half-joking. "So, what is it? You're not the type to just stop by for tea."
He paused, his smile becoming more knowing. "Especially since you're one of this project's major shareholders."
Few knew that Roy and Vegapunk's first meeting hadn't been through the Marines. It had been brokered by a special intermediary—the leader of the Revolutionary Army, Monkey D. Dragon.
Back then, Roy had not yet made his name in the New World, but Dragon, having heard some of Roy's insights, already saw him as a key player in the world's future.
With Dragon pulling the strings and Gild Tesoro providing massive, off-the-books financial and intelligence support, Roy had secretly become an investor in several of Vegapunk's "personal projects."
None of it appeared in any World Government or Marine file.
The two men, despite their different allegiances, had a mutual respect and trust, maintaining a rare, secret partnership.
Vegapunk began walking deeper into the lab, calling back over his shoulder, "So, what do you want this time? Something illegal? Unreasonable? Or... inhumane?"
Roy followed, his hands still in his pockets, his fingers idly tracing the cold, metal surface of a workbench.
"Don't say it like that, Doctor," he chuckled. "When have I ever asked for anything so dangerous...?"
As he spoke, Roy's expression suddenly sharpened, though his voice remained casual. "I heard... you used Kaido's Lineage Factor... to create an artificial Devil Fruit."
Vegapunk's steps faltered. He slowly turned around, his eyes as sharp and cautious as ever.
"PX-K7?" he raised an eyebrow. "You mean... the 'failure'?"
"You call it a failure," Roy shrugged, "but it's still a fruit made from the 'World's Strongest Creature.' Even if the color is wrong, its abilities can't be simple."
Vegapunk snorted. "The World Government did, in fact, order me to hand it over. I managed to stall them by using the 'fruit's color does not match the original specimen' as an excuse. It's currently locked in the deep cold-storage here on Punk Hazard."
He continued walking, his voice annoyed. "CP0 has been sniffing around again, talking about 're-evaluating the fruit's strategic significance.'"
He stopped, his gaze sharp and appraising. "What do you want it for?"
Roy didn't answer immediately. He just smiled.
"I need that fruit," he said, his voice simple and final.
Vegapunk's eyes narrowed. He could tell the kid wasn't telling him the whole truth, but he didn't push it.
"And what," Vegapunk asked, "are you offering in exchange?"
"I heard..." Roy said, as if making small talk, "that your 'Clone Soldier' project... has hit a bit of a wall."
Vegapunk's steps stopped again. This time, his face truly changed.
He spun around, his eyes wide with shock. "...How much do you know?"
"Your problem is the 'genetic adaptation' and the 'specialized durability feedback' loop. The clones are unstable."
Roy stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "What if I could find you... a willing test subject... from the Buccaneer race?"
"WHAT?!"
Vegapunk stared, his voice cracking, forgetting to keep his voice down.
"You said... the Buccaneer race?!"
The air in the lab froze. Those words were one of the World Government's deepest taboos—a bloodline that had been "erased" from history, a name spoken only in whispers.
Vegapunk's sharp gaze slowly softened. He was silent for a few seconds, and then a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "You really are a dangerous kid..."
He muttered to himself, then turned and kept walking. "Fine. If you can really solve my research problem... I'll handle the 'ownership issue' of that fruit."
"CP0 can stare all they want. They won't get it from me."
Roy's lips curved into a smile, his eyes flashing with a deep, calculating light.
"It's a deal."
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