I once had a dream and now it's a reality. This story has a tvtropes page! Hooray! (details at the end) :D
I corrected the Sanko and Yonko bits in the previous chapters (added new things mostly in chapters 3 and 7).
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This chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Gerbilfriend and Black' Victor Cachat who both helped me a lot with grammar, paraphrasing, ideas and especially with their endless encouragement :D (*Ace's deep bow*)
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Warnings:
English is my fourth language. Spoilers to the latest chapters of the manga. Warning may change in the future.
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Guest's reviewers' answers (Do use a name/nickname next time):
Guest ('Moar pls')
Thank you for your review and support:)
Here moreeee ;)
Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Looking forward to reading your thoughts!
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Guest ('I love this revised version. I also loved …')
Thank you for your review and support:)
Glad you loved them both!
True, the marines are not hateful characters per say, but they are hypocritical. They say they are for justice but it's not for everyone, and not equally.
Yeah, Garp's in a really tough position, and it's family vs. Duty. But also Duty as marine he also has catch slaves which are while outlawed still criminals. No one can make him do it, he is the hero of the marines, but still his duty isn't so cut and dry.
'Also was sabo's boat already bombed here?'
Spoiler, so can't tell ya.
You ask some good and tough question, and all would be answered in good time, you need to keep reading! ;)
Here it is, hope you enjoy the new chapter! Looking forward to reading your thoughts! (use a nickname! So I know it's you) :D
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Kanon
Thank you for your review and support:)
Glad to hear. I try my best to keep all my characters in 'character lol. It's hard when we don't enough about them, but my imagination help. :D
With all the new info we learned about the roger, oden etcetc, I needed to combine it in, glad it worked. It wasn't easy.
'headaches he's given to Rayleigh, Shanks and Sengoku'
OHHHHHHH, you have no idea! XD
Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Looking forward to reading your thoughts!
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Riverway14
Thank you for your review and support:)
Glad to hear! Do love it more and more!
Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Looking forward to reading your thoughts!
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Benn Beckman strode resolutely to his captain's chambers.
Today was the day he would get the truth out of his dear, dear captain.
His patience had run out. He would get the truth or….
He had even brought the big guns; and no, he didn't mean his rifle in the sash around his waist. Well, not entirely at least.
Shanks was behaving strangely. Well, Shanks was always strange. What he meant was stranger and more erratic than usual, and it had been going on for weeks. Even some of the crew members that were 'intellectually challenged,' or 'lived in drunkenness haze,' had noticed that something was amiss.
It all had begun with the bloody meeting with the Sanko Whitebeard. Shanks had insisted on paying his respects and sharing a drink with the Sanko like they were old-time friends. Besties. That was his captain's idea of fun, and it escalated to a full fight, which Shanks insisted that it was a light spar and that Benny was overreacting. 'The old man wanted to move his body, his muscles were sore, I just helped him unwind a little.'
Yeah, right.
And it didn't end there, oh no. A meeting with Rayleigh followed it. A meeting that none of them were allowed to attend, unlike the one that occurred not just a few months back. Well, less of a 'meeting,' and more of a 'party,' except even this time they apparently just sat and drank. And since then, Benn was never alone with his dear captain in any room. And mind you, they were on a ship, a small closed quartered ship. Somehow, there were always few people between them, and even then their esteemed captain bolted away in one way or another. His excuses get more and more absurd each time.
'I need to finish my book, I need to go. It was getting to the interesting part... ' (Shanks read? Since when?)
'I promised to show Yasopp how to shoot a pistol, need to go' (Yasopp just happened to be in the room with them, and just by mere coincidence happened to be a sniper. What a crazy chance!)
'I have very important visitors coming to the ship, bye, bye...' (They were in the bloody sea. In the South, there was endless water. North: water. West: water. And guess what was in the East? Yes, you guessed it. A cola! No, you bloody morons, it was more water).
'Has anyone seen my gloves, I can find only one, I'll look over there, you lot look here.' (Did he even need to explain this one. Really? Well, the crew shouted as one: why do you need two gloves when you only have one hand? And ah of course, the newly surfaced jokes about a one-handed captain and his hook, spread around the ship once more).
'Does anyone smell something burning, oh, no, stay here, I should go and check in the kitchen!'
'It's the first day of spring, let's do winter cleaning. Come on everybody!'
It went on and on.
It was funny at first, there had even been bets, there still were, about what kind of excuse he would make to run away this time. The betting pool pot just got larger and larger as it seemed no one was as creative as their captain.
But after a week it had stopped being funny, and started being annoying. Extremely so.
For the rest of the crew, it stopped being funny when the captain, the biggest alcoholic of the lot, announced a major planned cut in the 'let's get shitfaced drunk budget,' giving some vague excuses. There was a huge uproar. He was almost sure there would be a mutiny. In fact, Benn was about to lead it. The problem was that if he had led it, it would have been successful, and then meant he would have to be the 'new' captain. The horror. (Running a ship as the first mate, wasn't the same as being called captain. And more importantly, he couldn't nag anyone then, everyone would nag him. The horror!)
Benn respected Shanks, he wouldn't have followed him and become his first mate otherwise. Even though he sometimes doubted his sanity, he abided by his captain's judgment. He had reasons for each move, even if Benn didn't know the reasons at the time. But things reached the breaking point yesterday.
A delivery had arrived for Shanks. A very suspicious small boat had found them, and very suspicious people had demanded to meet Shanks to deliver a small box. It would be only delivered to his own hands; or hand.
Shanks had come, very excitedly, thanked them profusely and bolted away to his room with giddy excitement just like a child. A few hours later they heard screams from his room and loud screeching no one could make out through the walls, and Shanks had not come out since. Lucky Roo had taken some food to him, which he refused, Yasopp tried with booze that he 'borrowed' from someone, and he still was refused entry too. Benn happened to pass by the room when the door was open a crack and could hear him pacing and muttering nonsense.
It was time for Benn's kind of intervention.
He didn't bother to knock or to check gently if it was locked, and flung the door open (The keys for every door on the ship had somehow always gotten lost. And he didn't in any way or shape or form have a copy. Totally). His mouth open, ready to give his captain a piece of his mind. He had mentally written a few speeches by this time, that differed by tone, length, and content.
The shortest was "I quit, dump me on the nearest island, please", while the longest was a poem he wrote about a very exciting topic: the one-handed red hair pirate that kept on meeting very unfortunate accidents one after the other. Rhyming vowels and all. (You would be surprised how many words rhymed with Red: dead, head, net, dread, bled, fled, pled, behead, bloodshed, drop dead, end…. ; Hair: bear, stair, scare, tear, despair, nightmare and potty chair... and he would leave the rest to your imagination). It was pretty long by this point actually.
Shanks was sitting in front of his desk, his eyes downcast, he slowly looked up and when he saw him, he gave a nod, and said in a tired voice, "Come on in, Benny, we have a lot of things to discuss."
Benn's first instinct was to run, since even though Shanks's body was defeated, the look in his eyes was of a beast calculating its next move.
The First Mate of the dreaded Red-Hair Pirates gingerly took a few steps in. The sound of the chair scraping against the wooden floor was loud in his ears, as he moved it to sit in front of his Captain. Shanks was looking at him; or more accurately, through him. It was unsettling.
"Bear with me, this is going to be a long story." And then Shanks spoke.
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A few hours had passed. Benn had sat there; his posture stayed the same through all of Shanks's story. He hasn't spoken a word since Shanks had ushered him in. His face blank, contemplating what he had heard.
Benn cleared his throat. Shanks's eyes were glued to his face, waiting for any reaction.
"I have only one question."
Shanks's body tensed and he nodded, indicating for him to speak.
"The cut in the 'let's get shitfaced drunk budget' was because of acquiring the White Den Den Mushi?"
Shanks deflated, and in great agony, he whimpered, "Yeah, we need secure communication because…." Shanks waved his hand around and despaired.
It could be seen in the quivering muscles of his body, the bloodshed eyes, the trembling lips as he spoke (more like whined).
He murmured about bloody cost, and great sacrifices, and where was a drink when you needed it, and being sober was soooooooooo overrated.
Benn nodded his ascent. "Understandable, under the circumstances."
Shanks was still going on and on about the hardship he had to endure to keep his promise to the ungrateful know-it-all old man. Unable to share his worries with his dear, trustworthy, and adored First Mate.
Benn needed to pitch his voice a bit higher to be heard.
"Is there a reason why we need two White Den-Den?"
Shanks stopped. Not only speaking. But completely and utterly stopped. If a sculptor was present at that moment, he would have applauded him and used him to instruct his eager students of the art of standing still. The Obsidian gemstones shaped as eyes suddenly leaped into life. From a 'dead light' to a 'wild look'. The statue's throat moved, his breathing becoming erratic.
"Two? We lost ours, didn't we? I looked for it too! All over the ship! Had a few others help. And besides, it dies if it isn't fed. Right, so ours isn't functional, right?"
His captain's voice was pleading, begging. Please, say that I am right. The alternative was...
His captain was right. Any Den Den Mushi not fed would die.
"Third drawer in the left cabinet by your big closet."
What a miracle! The statue leaped to his legs with newly found vigor.
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"Shhhhhhhhhhh!"
"Let me!"
"No, me!"
"It's my turn!"
"Keep it down you morons," hissed Yasopp, "Benn's temper is getting shorter these days."
"Yeah, Tim almost peed his pants when Benny gave him a look yesterday."
"I didn—"
A big hand came down swiftly, stopping the explosive shout.
"Good job, Lucky Roo! Shut up all of you," hissed Yasopp out of the corner of his mouth, as he took a few steps back from the door that the dreaded Benn had stormed into a few hours ago.
The whole Red-Hair Pirate crew followed his example, and as one took a few steps back. Except for Lucky Roo who was holding the loud-mouthed fool up in the air by his face as they both stood stock still.
They all held their breath. Their feet were barely touching the floor, the muscles tensing ready to spring toward the exit on a drop of a hat if the door was to fling open and the face of their First Mate reappeared.
They waited with bated breath.
One beat, two beats, and three beats.
Nothing happened.
A few brave souls moved forward (or really stupid, if you asked Yasopp), still hiding their hands behind their backs.
Still nothing.
Another step.
Nothing.
Yasopp was the only one, holding his arms in front of him and not hiding them. He and Lucky Roo were the only ones without cups in their hands.
After being stuck in front of the door for hours with nothing to do but fret and worry, someone had said if you put a glass cup over a door and glue your ear to it, you could hear the conversation on the other side. So everyone had bolted to the kitchen in search of a cup, few fights had broken out over the valuable treasure of all: glass cups. Apparently, cups were a commodity that they had few on their ship. Even sake bottles, especially with the cuts to the 'let's get shitfaced drunk budget' hadn't brought this kind of enthusiasm. Yasopp didn't understand the need for cups, as he drank straight from the bottle.
Lucky Roo was without a cup too, probably because he had his priorities straight. He wouldn't give up his chunk of meat for anything, mused Yasopp to himself.
Fortunately (or not), probably the same fool from before, suggested using the empty glass bottles for eavesdropping, after cutting them in half to make them more like a cup, of course. And if there was something, they had plenty of, it was empty bottles (during one of their drunken parties, someone suggested holding a competition for building shapes out of bottles. The winner had built a replica of their ship out of the bottles. It was bigger than the actual ship.
Yassop still was not sure how that happened).
After all, the betting pool pot about their esteemed Captain and beloved First Mate was the largest in the history of the crew. That made finding out what they were discussing of more importance. There were lots of beli on the line (when he said beli, he didn't mean just beli per se. In this crew, not only could you bet on anything, but you could use anything to bet with: weapons, sake bottles, night and bathroom duties, favors, future shares in spoils etc etc). Which meant this betting pool pot wasn't only large but very colorful.
The fact that it was quiet on the other side, with none of the shouting and banging they had expected, made the tension skyrocket. Most of the carefree attitude of the crew got more and more strained as time passed and nothing they had expected happened. The cup thing somehow was able to calm some of it, but it was still there. It was apparent in the strained smiles, and shared looks, and the urgency they pressed their ears to cups, walls, and the door.
And guess what? It seemed like putting a cup on the door, and your ear to it didn't work. That, or the walls were just too thick. Regardless, they had no idea what was going on the other side. For all they knew, Benn had helped Shanks visit the creator, and was taking a nap near the corpse of their captain, using it as a pillow.
While Yasopp stayed rooted in his place, almost all of the crew were back by the door. Fighting for the right to put their cups on the door and walls, trying to glue their ears deeper to the glass.
When they had seen Benn storming in the direction of Shanks's room a few hours back. The whole crew moved swiftly out of the way and acted as if they couldn't feel the fury radiating from him as they involuntarily shivered, and after a few seconds had passed without communicating with each other, most of them headed to where they knew their First Mate had gone to.
Everyone was sure, including him, that Shanks would bolt out of the room when Benn had thunderously marched in and jump into the sea trying to flee. But they had been there for hours, and neither their Captain nor First Mate had come out. Even the spotters on the deck of the ship, that were there in case if their captain jumped out from the window of his office, had come down after half an hour had passed with nothing happening.
Pity. They had even found a Cameko Den Den Mushi (no one knew that they even had it), that they had intended to use to capture such an important occurrence. Some things should be cherished. To gaze at and remember the happy moment. Not, in any way to be used as blackmail material. Perish such a revolting idea from your mind. That was their esteemed captain you were talking about.
A few muffled curses from the direction of the door caught his attention. Doc would not be happy when he saw all the scratches and cuts to the ears of the crew.
He was in one bloody genius crew. If something didn't work the first time, then try again and again, doing the same thing. And again. You never know, maybe a miracle would happen and it would somehow work.
Yasopp sighed internally. He blamed the lack of alcohol for the rising sarcastic streak in his head.
To tell the truth, Shanks's behavior those few weeks had worried him. Not only him but most of the crew. They all had behaved as if nothing was wrong, and jovially partied and joked around, never raising the issue. That was Benny's job. But every once in a while, few of them would share a worried look.
Shanks was acting strange. Well, he was a strange person to begin with. Yasopp wouldn't have followed him if he was a normal person. It was the look in his eyes, the unwavering smile, the aura that surrounded him like a cape that if the sniper had tried he could almost touch it. All of it had driven him to leave his wife and child behind, and join him. And what a journey they had.
But what had truly alarmed him was the cuts to 'let's get shitfaced drunk budget'. The most drunk person in the whole world (after him, of course) had issued this kind of order. And not only that but had followed through on it. Since first coming aboard, Yasopp had made it his business to know the exact quantity of sake they had at any given moment on the ship. Someone had to keep track so they never ran out. It was such an important job, and he had generously volunteered to handle it his way. There was a reason why even in the ship, he always has his rifle attached to his back via a band, even in his sleep.
Unbelievably, Shanks hadn't drunk a sip of sake since he had issued the order. Not one. He was acting...God help him… like a responsible mature adult in this regard (Thank the Grand Line he was still erratic in every other way or else Yasopp would think he himself had gone mad). Their captain was setting an example for the rest. Yasopp, even deep in his mind, struggled to utter the next words: as ...rol...role model. Yuck.
That was what had truly got him worried. It just was soooo un...un-Shanks like.
Yasopp sighed out loud, and moved toward the door where the crew was still gathered. His steps were soundless as befitting of a sniper. He wanted to have a quiet word with Lucky Roo. Things couldn't continue like this. Maybe he or Lucky Roo could knock at the door with the excuse of bringing lunch or something, and use that as an excuse to go inside.
Ears, and cups, mused Yasopp. He really doesn't know how the door didn't already fall open with all the weight that was being pressed to it. The image of the door flying open and the crew sprawled at the floor, trying to explain the cups on their hands had made him snicker quietly as he hung back so it would not be overheard before moving forward again.
He was almost there when he froze.
The air was still. It was the kind of stillness that pompous writers with a flair for grandiose and dramatics would call the calm before the storm. Tranquility before chaos. The quiet of the red sun as it crossed the horizon line and sank into darkness. The real problem was that this time it wasn't an exaggeration.
His sniper instincts screamed at him to hide. To run and take cover. There was a sniper, no, an assassin nearby, and fleeing his wrath was the right thing to do. The only option.
He hurriedly looked at the crew, unsure how to convey his warning to them in a way they would understand and quickly move. But there was no need, even though they didn't have his instincts. They had felt it too. He could see it in the widening of their eyes, their tensed muscles, their twitching hands.
Lucky Roo was looking at him with dread. He could see his own thoughts reflecting in his eyes.
Were they under attack? One of the Sanko? Such power could be no less. Maybe Garp the Fist, few of their allies and acquaintances had told them he was searching for them. They should let the captain and Benn know.
No, they knew. They surely could feel it.
What to d—
A sudden wind had pushed him back with such force that he was almost flung off his feet. Most of the crew were not as lucky. Shattered glass, sprawled and tangled bodies, murmurs and curses.
Then the second roar came.
It was if a dragon had released a mighty roar.
Obeying their most natural instinct.
They moved, crawled, and ran.
Yasopp was the first to move. Beside him, Lucky Roo, even with his huge size, he moved fast, somehow succeeding in not bumping with others.
Everyone was trying to get to their feet, running, even as they fell and bumped into each other.
Run as if the devil was on your heels, their instincts screamed.
No time to think and consider.
Only when Yasopp had reached the deck of the ship, a thought penetrated his mind.
The enemy wasn't outside, but inside. In the captain's cabin.
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They all leapt.
The sudden flurry of strong winds and the stormy weather from out of nowhere helped push them further into the water.
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Somehow high above them, a few clicks would have been heard if anybody was paying attention.
The flying Cameko Den Den Mushi landed safely on the ship.
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(If anyone saw the pictures, and asked about them, please memorize this standard answer: 'It was a bloody hot day, the whole crew decided to take a dip in the ocean' with a dismissive tone and change the subject).
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Dr. Vegapunk had been staring with unseeing eyes at the papers in front of him for the last half an hour. His still-full cup of coffee had gone cold, left untouched on his desk in his personal office. Its enticing aroma vanished a long time ago.
His mind was busy racing with all the possible ramifications the papers in front of him implied.
The Lineage Factor.
The discovery that brought him to where he was today.
Until he and the others had started unlocking the Lineage Factor, the World Government had merely put their outlaw research team under close surveillance, but their new discoveries had made them move swiftly and brutally. While Vinsomke Judge had escaped, he had been arrested by the marines and Cipher Pol, and the rest was history.
Nowadays he was holding the position of the leading scientist of the marines.
Every now and then, Vegapunk would wonder if joining the marines was the right choice. Well, it wasn't as if he was really giving a 'choice', as it was this or Impel Down, or maybe the same treatment as the Ohara.
He had heard the stories, and as part of the marines, he had read the 'reports' about the tragedy, and it seemed like a good, well-reasoned story on paper. The Ohara scholars and archaeologists tried to use forbidden knowledge for global destruction and the World Government had no other choice but to annihilate them before they did the deed, in order to protect the world. Except to the keen eye, the 'story' had so many holes in different sizes, that if it was cheese, it would most definitely be Swiss.
Such a pity! Humanity had lost part of its soul that day. He had dreamed of one day visiting the island, meeting the scholars who gathered there, and entering the Tree of Knowledge where the greatest library in the world was located. Such waste, all that knowledge and brilliant minds lost forever. His own mind was that close to having been lost too.
But would accepting that fate have been better for the world as a whole? Denying himself to the marines?
He was born in the right place but at the wrong time (they usually told him he was born 500 years too early), on a technologically advanced Karakuri Island, part of the Future Country Baldimore.
Even as a child he had so many ideas to help the people of his island. Being a winter island that snowed year-round, the inhabitants suffered greatly from the constant cold climate, the never-ending snow, and their inability to plant and grow crops or produce food self-sufficiently.
He had started an ambitious project to modify the local animals into cyborgs as part of a plan to use beetles, lions, gorillas, and snakes as a labor force to build an in-ground heating system for the whole island. He was never able to finish it, mainly because of a lack of funds and manpower. That was the case for most of his inventions. He had lacked the funds, skills and materials to develop them.
Now, he lacked nothing of these, he also had companions - colleagues- who spoke the same language as him: Science.
Yet, sometimes he felt as if he was living in a cage. A wonderful cage built to suit his taste. But a cage nonetheless. Every movement of his was under constant supervision. His bodyguards were there as much to protect him as to keep an eye on him.
Truthfully, he didn't care about it too much, in the labs themselves he was free as a bird. As long as he had science and the means to see his visions come true, he could live with it. The marines... More accurately the World Government had given him the freedom to experiment and study things that were once a mere twinkle in his eye when he was a child. Dreams. Big dreams with no way to achieve them until now.
Except in every contract, no matter how well you read it, there was the hidden fine print. Limits that were not to be crossed.
One of those limits put down by the World Government was a restriction on studying the Lineage Factor. The blueprint of life itself that was present in all living organisms.
He had hoped by understanding it he could unlock the secret of life. How someone was born with the traits and features he had, and someone else didn't.
Appearance, qualities, attributes, traits, and characteristics.
Anyone could look at a newborn baby and say he has his mother's eyes, his father's nose, his uncle's smile. How did it all work? What is the role of each parent? What about other traits such as intelligence, learning capability? And what about the opposite, when a child is born looking completely different from his parents? So many questions, theories, and topics to examine and study.
He could see his outstretched hand, moving forward slowly towards understanding it all, the tips of his fingers nearly touching it. An ocean of knowledge, waiting for him to soak in. Drown in it even.
All the knowledge that was hidden in it, waiting to be unraveled. Only to be forbidden and denied access to it.
So many possibilities, endless, but he had to be barred at the gate.
They could have studied the mechanism underlying different diseases and birth defects. They could prevent infants from being born with congenital abnormalities. Even suppress the very unfortunately commonly acquired deformities in newborns in their first months of life.
Curing every disease in the world wouldn't be a dream. Forget about curing, they could prevent it from happening in the first place! Horrors like the Amber Lead Syndrome which had destroyed Flevance could become a myth told to scare children to bed.
He once more pushed aside some dark suspicions as to what had happened there. Why the World Government had not let him help. Why his demand for samples to study the disease was always denied. The same pattern of holes he had 'seen' in the Ohara's tragedy, were also apparent here.
His analytical mind was busy re-drawing the web of patterns between the two disasters that he had drawn in the past, always adding a few more details each time. There was a truth in every lie, but also the opposite was true. A lie in every truth. Truth after all was a subjective thing. The winner wrote it. But the pattern was always true, and no matter how hard you tried to hide it was there. You just had to know where to look, and Dr. Vegapunk knew how.
He sighed and forced his mind to the matter at hand. He couldn't change the past. Time Travel was something only crooks and pseudo-scientist considered as something worthwhile to 'study'.
There was nothing he could do now about what had already happened but he could use knowledge to change the future. And the future was locked inside the Lineage Factor. Oh, the things they could do if they just found the right key!
The shortage of organ transplants would be fixed in finger-snap, and all the risks that accompanied the complicated procedure would be no more. With a WORD of approval, the organ transplant procedure would be 'revolutionized'. They would be able to clone any damaged organ using the specific Lineage Factor of the patient, grow it to an exact replica of the original organ, and then transplant it without worries that the body would reject it.
They had just found that manipulating Lineage Factor from a young age would lead to the growth of a lifeform to be changed, when they were attacked by the marines, and he was arrested.
Imagine a child that was supposed to be born so sickly that his lifespan was a few years at best, and yet early intervention could change his fate! He had tried to explain this to the officials, repeatedly. He had talked for hours, drawn diagrams, showed his research. Dreamed.
But, it didn't matter how much he had pleaded and explained the importance of understanding the Lineage Factor and the potential discoveries that it held. Discoveries that could save and change lives. His cries were ignored.
It was all deemed too dangerous.
He understood why they think that way. Such knowledge could change how the world was viewed. The fundamental rules used to explain and understand the world would become irrelevant as a new set would appear.
Science, data, inventions, by itself, were never dangerous.
Of course, there were always ideas or inventions that had more potential to be used for evil than for good.
Yet, Knowledge itself was not evil. How each one decided to use it had the potential for good and evil. This decision fell upon each individual human. Man, woman, and the different creatures living in the vast world.
And this was where the danger lay, with studying the essence of any lifeform. The blueprint of life itself. Except that wasn't true only to the Lineage Factor.
There was always the potential to abuse any new bit of knowledge or any new invention. No matter how small, how insignificant it was. Humanity knew no bounds when finding creative ways to use and abuse 'objects' outside of their intended purpose. For example, a knife could be used to slice meat by a butcher, to cut ropes by a sailor and by a surgeon to operate on patients and save lives, or to be simply used by anyone dining to make eating easier, but it could also be used by criminals to hurt others, to kill and maim.
If the potential danger was to be considered as the deciding factor for not acquiring knowledge, or building machines, then humanity would still be living in caves, without tools and afraid of fire. There was a danger to be found in everything.
There was always a potential of danger hiding in the shadow of every step, be it small or big, that any living lifeforms on the planet took.
Curiosity, wonder, as well as the hunger and thirst for knowledge were strong innate qualities, that emerged as a fundamental part of the first lifeforms of this world, and would always be.
Humans, from the dawn of creation, had restlessly and continuously pursued inquiries about the world, with the world, and with each other.
New knowledge led to invention and re-invention, which led to more knowledge and the cycle continued to spin round and round.
Humans are quite the peculiar species, mused Vegapunk to himself. When the questions they wanted answered required knowledge beyond what they had possessed, they simply made up their own answers. That was both good and bad.
On one hand, it showed their creativity, and their ability to build a story of just a few pieces of information. On the other hand, instead of 'checking' if this story they built was true by scientific means that was developed over time, some of them took the 'story' as the absolute truth. Sometimes even refusing to steer away from it even when presented with new information showing otherwise. Some of these fools even dared to call themselves scientists! Well, not in his labs!
A truly peculiar species, humans are.
As a child, he had noted that the world was filled with wonderful inventions which no one took notice of, because they were so familiar. After centuries, they had become a part of every day to day life. People had seldom stopped to think about how life was before this invention, how these inventions had come to be, how many tries it took them to reach the last product that people nowadays used as a matter of course.
It would be easier to stop the world revolving on its axis than to stop the cycle of curiosity, knowledge and inventions.
That was why he had felt no hesitation in ignoring their restrictions, and devised a way to study the Lineage Factor in secret. One would think that with all security it would be a hard feat to accomplish.
Easy peasy.
He decided to do his 'inquiry' in plain sight. Well not exactly, it was hidden inside of a few common sheets of data that almost anyone would have access to. Disguised as 'health reports.'
For example, he built a new machine and invented a new blood test that could examine different parameters and biomarkers. Previously, those same results would take multiple different tests and samples from a single patient. Now it only took one of each. Making it more efficient, cost and time-wise.
He had immediately presented it to the head doctors at Navy HQ, and ones visiting from other major bases. "I have seen you struggle with giving care to your patients, this should make it easier to find what's wrong with them, and give them the appropriate care." He had explained to the masses staring at him in wide-eyed shock. They all had leapt to their feet to thank him, and with a short time the test had become the standard go-to procedure for all marines.
What he told them was the truth. Well, most of the truth. He just added a few other tests examining the Lineage Factor, and hidden them between all the other information they received when they ran the test. To any scrutinizing eye, be it a doctor, scientist, or the bureaucrats appointed by the World Government to do oversight into everything he does, nothing amess would ever be found.
For one thing, he was the one that explained to them what each parameter meant, for another he had hidden the data randomly in the sheets, not only as parameters with different names but in title, footnotes, numbers. And all of it needed to be read in specific order that changed according to a pattern he had entered, to be analyzed as Lineage Factor data.
Right now, the papers scattered atop his desk were results of a regular checkup for active marines that returned from a long voyage in the New World, and were preparing for a new one. Nothing unusual about them, weight's in range, normal blood pressure, no apparent sickness, no undefined symptoms appearing; all the parameters were more and less in the normal range. A few had inevitably complained about headaches and seasickness to which the doctor prescribed some pills. He had seen thousands of checkups just like this. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The results themselves were fine, it was just when they were compared to the previous tests of the same individuals before they sailed, the results became unthinkable.
It made them abnormal results. Extremely abnormal. Unbelievable even.
Their Lineage Factor had changed. The blueprint of life that was unique to each person, more so than thumbprint or eye iris. That Lineage Factor had changed. Not small changes, or specific ones, but a global change.
It was as if he was looking at a completely different person.
It should be scientifically impossible. Or at least it should be.
But he was getting ahead of himself. He hadn't yet ruled other possibilities out. Even if it was unlikely to be a series of mistakes from so many tests. Especially when taking into account that they were not run by the same person, or at the same time.
Still, right now the most probable cause for the unexpected results, was that someone(s) messed up in the lab and the results he was holding were for other individuals. Or maybe the machines were faulty? But the machines in question had remained here on base in secure storage, and they were calibrated 2 weeks ago. He had checked few of them himself and nothing was out of the ordinary. Maybe he needed to create a better blood test. More accurate, more…. No, he has absolute trust in his own inventions, and he ran all the tests and then some before he had presented it to the doctors and the bureaucrats. Still, he would double-check, just to make sure.
The only thing that he and Judge had found that could change one's Lineage Factor to this degree, in adults specifically, was a Devil Fruit. The person depending on the Fruit he ate received supernatural abilities that could affect his appearance, his body's essence, etcetc, the possibilities were endless. This discovery had made him obsessed for a while with finding everything about Devil Fruits, and their natural weakness, seastone.
None of those Marines had eaten a Devil Fruit, it would have been written in their updated files. It was a big deal after all. But just in case and to eliminate the possibility, he had randomly chosen files from the bile in front of him and had someone covertly double-check. Nada, nothing. No Devil Fruit.
Before he considered the consequences of such a finding, he should go back to basics. To check and double-check the authenticity and validity of the results.
With his mind made up, he stood up from his desk, with the papers held tightly in his hand, and swiftly strode to the main lab, his mind still reeling, searching for another explanation. Trying to figure out if anything drastic happened to the marines or the world. He rarely read the news, but the young scientists loved to gossip, and he didn't remember overhearing anything that caught his attention as a big deal or strange. There was a bit about an actress that all the junior scientists wanted to see one of her performances live during their next vacation.
Maybe he should covertly examine the newspapers for the last few months. Or better he can have one of the junior scientists write him a summary for all the major happenings of the last year. He could introduce it as a kind of task or punishment. Some of the senior scientists were complaining about the attitude of the new, junior scientists. Maybe he could mention this idea in passing as an educational way to teach the new crop of scientists how to handle big data unrelated to their field of study, and summarize it to present to everybody? He would just plant the suggestion, and let the others do the work for him. After all, things moved smoother when the person was sure it was his own idea all along.
He reached the main lab, his eyes searching around. The place was deserted. He checked his watch. No wonder, it was a lunch break. Contrary to the widely believed stereotype that scientists didn't need to consume food, drink or sleep to function, as a rule, scientists treasured their breaks; especially when food and coffee were involved.
Really, he had no idea how this unreasonable stereotype had come to be. Every scientist worth his salt knew the importance of a healthy body, and how it otherwise affected the mind. And lack of sleep affected the cognitive function of the brain, and made for unsound judgments. Such a ridiculous notion. It wasn't even funny.
He was about to exit the room when a movement caught his eyes. A gaseous white thing was swaying in the air. He moved forward. Yes, it was the one that ate Gasu Gasu no Mi. He had two curly horns growing from the back of his head, surrounded by a short silky black hair. He was bent over one of the devices that measured gas concentration and pressure.
Dr. Vegapunk frowned, trying to remember what his name was again? There was no one around for his subtle plan, so he would have to do.
"Caesar, could you please ask them to run the test again for these samples? And ah... For them to also take new blood samples from the same subjects, and also run them." He pushed the papers into the startled scientist's hands, and turned around back to his office, as he still had a lot else to do. He would ask for lunch and new coffee to be sent to his office.
He better hurry up, he still didn't go over the files he received for the marines about a candidate for the cyborg project. One of the seven Warlords, no less.
Dr. Vegapunk also had a meeting later that afternoon with Vice Admiral Kizaru that he needed to prepare for. It was his second meeting with the one that ate the Pika Pika no Mi, a Logia-type Devil Fruit that granted him the powers of the element of light. He was mainly interested in its potential to create laser beams.
When he was back home on Karakuri, Vegapunk was able to create animal cyborgs with laser weapons, but they were mere prototypes with tons of problems. But now he has someone that could shoot them from his fingertips whenever he wished. He wanted to run some more tests with the right equipment. He had built a few machines himself inspired by their last meeting. The potential made him giddy with anticipation.
For now, he had pointedly and resolutely shelved the Lineage Factor to the back shelf of his busy brain and focused on the present.
That was, until the new test results came back.
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Soooo your thoughts?
Really looking forward to hearing what you thought about how I presented Dr. Vegapunk and what's his role is going to be? Share your theories with me, come on!
I am really busy and stressed right now, so send some love! (and M&Ms!)
(OHHH….Any verses for Benny's Poem? ^^ )
I never saw a Fic with Dr. Vegapunk written in it, and as a scientist myself (I have the degrees to prove it! Really, I do!), it was a challenge to write someone I think of as having an analytical mind, especially with so little that we know about him and his past, motive etcetc.
According to what we know the Lineage Factor is like DNA (at least what is written in wiki). But the DNA (and genetics) don't have all the answers as we know today (if anyone is interested, I can recommend you articles and journals).
When I read the little we know about the Lineage Factor it felt to me like a combination of genetics and epigenetics markers and mechanisms (such as DNA methylation, microRNA etc etc) and it can be used like 'CRISPR gene editing' that is being used today to modify the genome of living organisms. It seems to me like Oda had put all the secrets of the organism in one thing (Lineage Factor), I wish it was that easy in the real world.
*When I wrote the phrase 'The horror' I imagined it being said in Sheldon Cooper's voice XD (don't know what I am talking about, google it!)
*I corrected the Sanko and Yonko bits in the previous chapters. Thanks for pointing it out, but also point out the good things too! It helps keep me motivated. :)
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As usual, I answer reviews when I post a new chapter, check your PM.
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THIS IS NOT A DRILL! This story has a tvtropes page! Link (delete space '. org'): tvtropes. /Fanfic/DSwaysTheWavesOfTime
Thanks to the amazing Black' Victor Cachat !The one and only king! The one to Rise from the Ashes! The carrier of the One Hat to Rule them All. Justice shines his steps as he crosses the Sea of Souls. ;D and my many thanks and love to scl04 for making the page grow! I love it! Make it bigger and bigger (* Neil Patrick Harris's voice and twirl*) )
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Really excited to read your reviews about this! More excited than Dr. Vegapunk waiting for the results of one of his experiments (not telling which!) ;D