"I see..." Rodney paused for a moment, waiting for his boss's answer, and then, as if testing his resolve, asked, "Have you considered digging wells to access groundwater? Or exploring other ways to obtain fresh water?"
The boss shook his head, his expression reflecting despair. "There's only one well in town. It used to provide enough groundwater for daily consumption after a few rains a year. However, after a year without rain, it ran dry. Fresh water is scarce, and that's why many people prefer to leave. As for the other methods you mentioned, I'm not aware of them. We've always relied on rainwater and groundwater."
Rodney fell silent. It was logical to assume that distilled water could be obtained from seawater near the coast. Of course, excessive consumption of distilled water is not beneficial to the human body, but it could be a temporary solution to the water shortage. However, it seemed that the people here were unaware of this.
He also noted that technological progress in this world was uneven. Due to the isolated and confined life influenced by the surrounding sea, people's lifestyles varied greatly. Some seemed to live in modern times, while others resembled the Middle Ages or even ancient times.
Their daily lives lacked vibrancy, and technological advances seemed to serve primarily the upper class. Members of the lower classes had limited access to such advances and continued to rely on ancient practices passed down from generation to generation.
Even though there were people among the people with altered abilities who could emit lasers, some still lived in the old way.
Rodney couldn't help but feel perplexed. How did this imbalance arise? Shouldn't technology benefit everyone?
People in this world seemed to focus all their energy on waging war and paid no attention to the well-being of ordinary people. Productivity was low, and human life seemed to have little value.
"Your sister!" a sharp voice rang out, tearing Rodney from his thoughts.
He let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn't a scientist, and he had no opportunity to lead a technological revolution in this world. He could only do what was within his power.
His worldview clashed with the values of this world, even though he had integrated himself into it to some extent. But discomfort still remained.
Standing up, he asked his boss, "Do you have any concave glass? Even saucepan lids will do, but concave glass is preferable."
"Concave glass... Let me see. Yeah, we have some. What are you going to do with it?" the boss asked.
"Just doing an experiment," Rodney replied with a smile.
The boss brought a large glass plate, typically used for serving food. Rodney also asked for two pots—one large and one small.
They went to the Sandora River, where Rodney filled a large pot halfway with seawater. He placed the small pot inside the larger one, buried it in the sand, and covered the larger pot with a concave glass pane facing downward. Then he left it in the sun.
Showing curiosity, the owner asked: "Guest, what are you doing?"
"I get fresh water from sea water," Rodney answered.
His words shocked the boss. "You're extracting fresh water from seawater? You're not kidding, are you?"
Technology didn't give the boss the knowledge of distilled water, but they could distill fresh water from wet sand. However, they still relied on the elements and prayed for rain to survive. If it rained, they survived; if not, they faced certain death. There was little water in the sand.
Although the concave glass caused some distortion, the seawater began to evaporate rapidly under the influence of the sand and sun. The water vapor rose, blocked by the concave glass, and Rodney spat out a mouthful of cool water, allowing the hot air to condense it into droplets.
Due to the curvature of the glass, the drops moved towards the center and fell into a small pot, constantly replenishing the evaporating water.
Half the water in the large pot quickly evaporated. Brushing sand off one side, Rodney retrieved the hot glass and both pots. The smaller pot was filled with warm distilled water, while the surface of the larger pot was coated with a layer of salt crystals, with a saltwater paste at the bottom.
He handed the distilled water to the boss and said, "Try it."
Trembling, the boss took a sip of water. It was light, lacking the salty taste of seawater. It tasted slightly different from regular drinking water, but it was undoubtedly fresh.
Fresh water extracted from sea water?
With tears in his eyes, holding water in his hands, the boss began to cry and said, "If... if you had come earlier, then fewer people would have left, and fewer lives would have been lost."
Rodney advised: "Even though it's fresh water, drinking it in large quantities is harmful to the human body. Don't forget to eat more vegetables and other foods."
Since distilled water lacks some essential micronutrients required by the human body, excessive consumption is harmful. It's better to replenish these elements through other means.
"Oh, and don't forget to store the ice at night." The difference between day and night temperatures in the desert was significant. Daytime temperatures could reach 40-50 degrees Celsius, and at night they could drop below freezing. Condensation was a crucial step in the distillation process. The water Rodney obtained was only slightly hotter than the steam, making the ice more effective.
He wrote down the necessary items and steps for obtaining distilled water on paper and handed it over to his boss. For the boss, it was like a treasure, knowledge that kept their lives in balance.
Having water in the desert meant survival. No longer would they have to rely solely on the whims of the heavens. All thanks to the man standing before them.
"Guest, may I know your esteemed name?" asked the boss.
"Joestar J. Rodney. Remember every step, and you'll be able to create a more efficient distillation system," Rodney said, feeling rested and ready to leave.
"Lord Rodney, are you leaving? Can you stay a few more days? When everyone finds out what you've done, you'll undoubtedly become famous, a national hero, like Lord Crocodile," the boss said seriously.
The boss believed Rodney would surpass Crocodile as a hero, protecting and saving even more lives. If his actions were spread, countless lives could be saved.
"No, it's just a small feat," Rodney smiled, pushing back his hair. "I still have a lot to do. But I will always remember this world."
He said goodbye to his boss and, with a light heart, set out on his journey, leaving behind not only the desert but also his past. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he was confident he could find his place in this strange and wonderful world.
"I have more important things to do," Rodney said, taking off on a sand sled taut with a sail. The boss watched him go, firmly believing that Rodney's name would soon thunder across Alabasta.
…
Rodney's sand sled had barely left Katorea when his path was blocked by a colossus—a khaki-colored turtle the size of a house. A man and a woman with an umbrella sat on its shell.
The man, with dreadlocks and dark glasses, wore a brown coat with a white number "5" on his left chest and lower right corner. He looked like a rock star. The woman, in a lemon-yellow skirt with a lemon embroidered on the hips and a matching hat, exuded fashionable chic and contentment. She held an arrest warrant with Rodney's old face on it and smiled slyly.
"Ah, there you are. Too bad the warrant was cancelled. Three million beli is quite a bonus. What a shame..."
The man next to her remarked:
"Let's not waste time, Miss Valentine. Let's complete the mission by destroying him."
"Come all this way to kill this guy?" Miss Valentine grumbled discontentedly. "The sun is so hot, my skin can't stand it."
Mr. 5, with a stony face, pulled a booger from his nostril and, squeezing it between his fingers, pointed at Rodney:
— Killing him is as easy as pie. That's it!
He snapped his fingers and launched the booger into the air.
- Bomb-boogie!
Boom!
A powerful explosion kicked up sand and dust. A kunai with an explosive tag flew into the air and pierced their seats. The explosive tag burst into flames, engulfing the seats in flames. Mr. 5 caught the explosive tag with one hand.
The explosive tag detonated, but his hand remained intact, only blackened.
"I'm Mister 5, the bomb man who ate the bomb fruit!" he declared proudly. "Explosions don't affect me!"
Miss Valentine smiled slyly:
- Is this his last fight? What a shame, Mr. 5.
"That's what the weak do. Our mission is complete..." Mr. 5 said, pushing Miss Valentine aside.
Looking back, they saw Rodney standing unharmed with a smile on his face.
"Surprises, you bastard!" he shouted.