Chapter 11

The next day, Law threw himself into work. He waked up filled with guilt for having wasted a whole day; no matter how others might legitimate his holiday, he himself considered it improper. Well, he was a workaholic, so it figured... He didn't really reproach himself for having gone to Luffy's place - the visit in the Pirate King Palace had appeared to be much more pleasant he could've ever expected, and the impression the family of Straw Hat had made on him was good in every meaning - but for having spent so long on something else than work; that fact was gnawing at his conscience and crushing his self-worth. That was why the next morning he ordered himself even greater work rate; he'd already planned more surgeries for that day, anyway.

It was pretty difficult for anyone else to understand how Trafalgar Law could find some more time for work in his already tight schedule, and, to be frank, it occasionally amazed him, too. On the other hand, he knew well that in crisis or under pressure a man could go over his limits in every possible aspect. He'd gone through quite a few of such situations in his life, and even if someone else - someone leading more normal existence - might consider it a tragedy, he himself was grateful for them, for he'd managed to evolve and, hopefully, still evolved. Became stronger. Polished his skills and acquired new ones. It didn't sit well with him to stay in one place. He'd wanted to learn and expand his knowledge as a kid already. Later, because of the life he'd been forced to live, he'd found it necessary to gather information and gain new abilities; it was the only way he could reach his goals and fulfil his plans. If now, as a doctor, he could still cross the boundaries, it was only a desirable thing.

He had yet to reach the stage of wondering what price he would have to pay one day, although he was already aware that it wasn't possible that he developed infinitely; somewhere there was the wall he wouldn't be able to breach. He knew at least that much that he couldn't work over his normal capacity day in day out; however, such exertion wouldn't harm him if it happened episodically, so he didn't think twice about making his schedule for the next day. The most difficult thing was telling himself it was just this once and resisting the temptation of making the change permanent.

The next few days passed in a pleasant hospital routine. Law felt the best amongst the medical cases, new and well known diseases. He tried not to think that as soon as February he would have to survive another whole day without working, but the vision kept haunting him. As it filled him with increasing reluctance, he finally decided to analyse it. At first he thought it was just the fact of going on a holiday, which he considered one of the least desirable things in his life, and prompting him to feel guilty, on top of it. Then, however, he realised that the unpleasant sensation was caused rather by the previous day off, and meeting with Straw Hat. Well, this he could explained too: it was Law's policy to see the Pirate King as seldom as possible, for the man didn't use to affect his well-organised life in a favourable manner... It could be that over the years he'd worked out an emotional pattern to instinctively react to Luffy... Yet, the sensation wouldn't leave, even though more and more time had passed; to the contrary, it only seemed to intensify, weighing on him and depressing.

As time passed, the positive impression that meeting with Straw Hat's exceptional family had left, turned into something diametrically different, more and more unpleasant. Now it seemed strange to him; after all, he'd prepared for the worst, and yet he'd had a nice surprise. He'd expected that spending time with Luffy and Hancock's kids would be a torture, and in fact he'd had fun. He'd viewed the situation through the prism of his ideas about kids in general, and yet the offspring of the Pirate King and Queen had appeared to be seven very distinct and extraordinary personalities that had smashed the stereotype existing in his head to smithereens. But why it was this fact that filled him with bitterness? He didn't like it, especially that the longer he racked his brains about that riddle, the more convinced he became that it could be about something he'd never expected himself of: more or less conscious envy of Straw Hat Luffy.

It was completely unacceptable, both for general and particular reasons. Trafalgar Law didn't consider himself as someone to envy anyone anything, and if it was Monkey D. Luffy in question, then it seemed even more absurd than repulsive. But if it was really that... if he really felt some jealousy in the worst case and longing in the best one... or sense of defeat and being the worse... then it was the reason to be mad at himself, first and foremost.

It wasn't even about feeling that way. After all, he was just a human being, even though slightly modified anatomy and physiology-wise, and life itself had robbed him of many things that most people considered natural and naturally got or were given. No, what made him angry was the fact he'd thought he'd already been through that, had dealt with that enough times... and yet that matter had once again returned to him, and in time he'd expected it the least. Confrontation with Luffy's happy family simply hurt and reminded him that destiny could be very unfair.

On the other hand... Could he really blame destiny for that? Was family something that just happened to a man... or was it rather something he should actively try and get? The truth was he'd never taken a single step in that direction. He'd focused on his work, moving everything else to the side as less important or insignificant. Luffy had done nothing wrong, so why should Law blame him for his family bliss? Even though it could be said that to him the family really happened by accident, the Pirate King did care about his close ones and was part of their life. And Law? Even if, by some miracle, he got a wife and the kids, he would probably see them once in a blue moon and wouldn't be present at all in their daily life, for he would focus solely on medicine. Some voice in his head told him he shouldn't be so sure since he'd never tried, but he silenced it with realisation he'd rather not try. He couldn't imagine himself as a good husband or a father; quite the contrary, he was certain he would make his family unhappy, so it was a much better choice to be alone. He didn't want to make others unhappy, if only he could prevent that. Prevention was always better than cure.

After a few days of such a rational argumentation, the unpleasant feeling eased off and no longer disturbed his mind. Nevertheless, he decided he wouldn't get near the Pirate King Palace anymore. It'd been easy so far. There was plenty places on Raftel he could spend that particular day of month when he was forbidden to as much as showing his face in his own hospital...

Slowly, January was nearing its end. Winter continued and, much to Law's displeasure, took a turn for the worse... or, at least, spring was nowhere near. The weather grew terrible; it became very windy and thus very cold, even though the real temperature wasn't that low. The sea was rough. Water kept hitting the wave breakers so violently it could be heard even inside the hospital, despite the soundproof windows, and the panes were shaking in the frames. As the situation continued, the atmosphere amongst the personnel became more and more tensed; the people were nervous. Shachi and Penguin got into a serious argument and stopped talking to each other for the whole two days, Ikkaku was emanating a silent message it was better to stay away from her, and Clione seemed extremely weary and upset; with such extreme weather conditions, his ward was probably more of a madhouse than normally. Besides... It was likely that, just like Law, everyone was unconsciously awaiting the worst: a great storm that, this time of year, might cause a terrible catastrophe with many causalities. The sea traffic had been limited, and the ships would push out only by a favourable forecast - or, rather, the least unfavourable - but even that didn't guarantee a safety.

Because of that, Law had less admissions and less work now. However, he just couldn't sit on his ass and do nothing, so he busied himself with work on the wards, curing the 'normal' patients whose conditions didn't require the Ope Ope no Mi surgeries. He just had to occupy his mind - also to drive away the thought that some people in need wouldn't be able to reach the hospital in time - and it could only benefit others. Later, the patients told that during the storm of the century they'd been given the best treatment in the history of the Corazon Memorial Hospital.

The storm wouldn't subside, and it only kept picking up. One could be under the impression it would never pass, rumbling over their heads until the end of the world and threatening to annihilate all who dared to expose themselves to it. The element was attacking the wave breakers and violently slashing the windows with freezing rain. Or maybe it was the end of the world already, an apocalypse and doom to everything still alive? It seemed that even if they survived, even if the good weather returned again, nothing would ever be the same and everything would be changed forever.

Law didn't even suspect that, through that violent storm, just as violent change would happen in his life, one he couldn't imagine even in the wildest dreams, had he seen them. Later, whenever he thought about it, he would smile wryly and come to the conclusion that of course it couldn't happen in any normal circumstances.

The bad weather went on, but people would rather not to talk about it, and Law wasn't an exception, just as if discussing the topic might bring a calamity. Well, men of the sea had always been superstitious, while not so few on the staff had had quite a long pirate career before. Law wasn't superstitious nor did he consider himself as a pessimist, but he knew that if something was bound to happen, then it would undoubtedly happen, so talking about it a priori was pointless. Still, he caught himself thinking that as the hospital director he'd rather have it happen today than tomorrow; he'd like that the mood in the hospital turned to the better as soon as possible and that his workers weren't so discouraged. And that everything were back at normal.

However, it didn't seem likely yet. Yet another morning greeted Law with the roar of the sea; he'd already grown accustomed to it, as to the trembling of the window panes. Paradoxically, the choice for fish in the canteen was the greatest, for the storm would drive the fish that normally didn't appear near the island, into the inshore nets.

"I guess I have to give up on the congress this year," Bepo said during breakfast. "With the weather like this, I can't go anywhere."

Law looked at him over his coffee mug. "When does it start?" he asked.

"The tenth."

"It's still almost two weeks from now," Law noticed. "I'm sure it'll let up by then. I can't imagine this continue so long..."

"But I first have to get there, too..." Bepo reminded. "This year it takes place on..." he said the name of the island on the far end of the world.

Law mused, drinking his coffee. "You could take one boat and get outside the storm, then board a normal ship. This dreadful weather must end somewhere."

"Thanks for the offer," the mink replied, "but I don't think it's a good idea to deplete the hospital's transport means. Besides, I probably wouldn't be able to focus on the congress, knowing you might need me here. I'd rather stay, just in case..."

"Bepo, no-one is indispensible," Law said before he held his tongue. "No, I take it back," he supplied at once.

Bepo looked at him askance. "Right, apart you no-one indeed," he muttered in response.

"That's not what I meant," Law replied edgily. "I meant that every doctor has the right to take a leave and don't mind his work."

"It's not convincing, coming from you..."

"Damn you, Bepo! If anything happened, sure I'd like you to be here...! But I don't want you to give up on your plans only because something may happen," Law explained what he really felt. "If the worst comes to the worst, we'll just have to manage. We will manage," he added with emphasis.

Bepo mumbled something unintelligible under his breath but didn't seem angry. They ate in silence. The gusts of wind smashing against the panes didn't grow any weaker, and there was a clear draught from the windows, despite the professional proofing. Well, it wasn't a ship, just a building, so it was allowed. Law comforted himself with the thought that such a storm was really something extreme, so statistically it shouldn't recur until some dozen of years later. Of course, statistics had nothing to do with the nature, he realised the next moment, staring at the roaring darkness outside.

"Let's see how the situation develops," Bepo said in the end, putting his mug down on the table. "If the weather changes for better in the next two days, I'll go."

Law nodded and got up. It was time to start working, and he welcomed it with relief. When using the Ope Ope no Mi for treatment, he virtually lost touch with the world. He didn't need to see the grey scenery outside, making the sun seem just a distant memory. He didn't need to hear the bang of the waves and the wind hitting the windowpanes. He ceased being aware of the element altogether, for he cut himself off anything but his patient. He hoped his personnel could do it without the Devil Fruit, too. It wasn't right that he was the only person in the world finding comfort in work in this stressful situation.

The morning surgeries went without any disturbance or complications. Even if the patients were more uneasy than usually, the Ope Ope no Mi soothed their nerves at least during the treatment. Law knew that once they waked up from the anaesthesia, knowledge they were cured would make them forget about the weather. At least them... On his way to the lift, he tried to comfort himself with the fact that the staff members didn't need to go outside, and the building protected them from the physical aspects of the storm. Himself, he was especially privileged, living here.

The moment he thought that, entering the lift, he came upon a picture of misery, and it took him a few seconds to recognise Clione. Upon seeing him, the head of psychiatry sighed. "I didn't want you to see me like this," he said half-jokingly. "Not you."

Law was staring at him in silence, trying to reconcile Clione's appearance with his normal image. The psychiatrist had his hair wet and tangled, his make-up was but a sad memory, and instead of an elegant dress he was wearing a plain scrub that suited him more or less like women's clothes suited most guys. It was obvious that the head of the Seven had had a close encounter with the external conditions.

"What happened to you?" Law finally asked, although he should've asked, 'Why did you go out?'

Clione sighed again. "Our patient escaped from the ward. She was lurking by the door. When the cleaner entered, she immediately ran out, almost trampling the poor woman. We caught her outside, she was half the way to the beach already..."

"And you just had to get after her, too?" Law asked in a surprised reproach.

"I happened to be near," the psychiatrist muttered, brushing the hair from his forehead. "Well, the most important is that we managed to catch and bring her back to the ward."

Law could figure the rest of the story himself. Clione probably had got soaked from head to toe, so he'd had to have his clothes washed or dried, and the only garb available in this situation was the hospital uniform every staff member could get in the laundry department in the basement.

"I bet you have quite a mayhem on your ward now..." he muttered with sympathy.

The psychiatrist smiled wryly. "Well, it will be really good if our mayhem is the worst thing here."

"Take care," Law said, when the lift stopped on the seventh floor and Clione got out.

This time the psychiatrist's smile was a bit warmer. "I'll manage, thanks..." he replied and then added in a flirtatious way that Law could never tell if it was serious or faked, "I promise to look decent the next time."

"Don't worry about it. Remember, in all those years I had more than plenty occasions to see you both in the guy's clothes and without them," Law retorted, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the nurse awaiting the lift down cast him a flustered look. He ignored that. What could she know about life in a submarine that had its own decency laws? "Believe me, you're not looking any worse now."

Clione snorted, apparently stifling a laughter, then waved him goodbye and headed for his office. He didn't seem as dejected as before, which gladdened Law. Dejected Clione wasn't a pleasant sight. Law realised that the head psychiatrist - just like Bepo and Ikkaku - was one of the supporting pillars of the Corazon Memorial Hospital... someone Law couldn't imagine this place without. Clione's presence and his composed personality, hidden behind an extremely expressive exterior, affected him in a positive manner.

By lunch, he mused over his companions, who'd been staying by his side for so long. He came to the conclusion that each of them could have an element attributed to them. Ikakku was like fire; she needed very little to flame up and explode, threatening to consume everything around. For those she cared about, however, she was someone they could warm by. She could show the road, illuminating it all at once. Clione, of course, was like water, with that serenity and composure of his, and ability to soothe all conflicts. He could flow around people, adjusting to them and learn to see their all sides. He could relentlessly wear away and patiently influence others to slowly realise his desire. Bepo... Bepo was like earth, rock, mountain - someone Law could always trust and rely on. Unmoved by others' whims, constant in his affection, and always supportive. So strong that fighting him was doomed to failure.

It seemed that Law was wind, able to move on a great speed between the places, travel between the sky and the earth, getting everywhere he wanted. He was unstoppable and could crush all obstacles on his path. He could destroy, but he could also help...

He winced. No wonder Clione's lunatics were raving mad in this weather if even he - a man whose sanity could be always relied on - started to fancy such things. Undoubtedly, the storm was disturbing his mind and filling it with strange ideas, there was no other explanation.

The atmosphere in the canteen resembled that from the previous days. Some were sitting in silence, glum and moody, busied only with their meals. Others were speaking with exaggerated cheerfulness, as if trying to drown out the roar of the gale and lift their spirits. Occasionally, Law could hear sharp voices of those whose patience and resilience had been depleted by the bad weather. He really hoped that prolonged storm to end soon.

But it didn't seem likely. Even if the wind sometimes appeared to die down, the very next minute it would attack the shore even more violently, beating against the walls and banging on the windows. There was no doubt it was the most intense storm Law had experienced on Raftel. He didn't fear about the hospital, for it was an extremely sturdy construction created by the greatest carpenter in the world: the man who'd built the Pirate King an unsinkable ship and was an artist at his job. Moreover, there were no big trees in the vicinity of the clinic, and the only things that the wind could carry with it were the wooden benches and the arbour in the park. However, Law realised that such a storm would do relevant damage in other places all over the island, this and the others. It seemed that the violent system was more or less moving over the surrounding waters, so it probably affected the Four islands, too. Law could only hope that their inhabitants knew the might of the ocean and didn't take the weather light, which should prevent fatalities, which was the most important.

He was about to head to the consultation session when Jean Bart contacted him. Well, it was the high time for something to happen, Law thought instinctively, preparing for the worst.

"We've just received the message from Vokzel," the head of the transport and communication section informed. "Their hospital was damaged, with the most serious problem being the failure of the generator. They have wounded amongst the staff, too. They're currently evacuating everyone and want to send us those patients they can't treat there."

"Send them? In this storm! Are they crazy?!"

"They decided those people had better chances than staying there."

"Better chances? For dying faster, perhaps," Law muttered in displeasure. "Wait for me, I'm on my way. ROOM."

After two seconds, he was standing in the dispatch office of the hospital.

"What answer should I give them?" Jean Bart asked, leaning over the control panel.

"Well, it's not like we can refuse them," Law decided. "But in my opinion it's a suicide. How many patients are in question?"

"A dozen or so. They plan to depart within half an hour."

Law suppressed a curse. "In any case, it's a challenge to death," he said after Jean Bart had conveyed his consent. "There's a risk those patients won't survive the journey, even if they come here safely."

"They probably want to take that risk, if there's any chance... if the chance of success is greater than zero."

Law shook his head. "It's going to be a lottery," he mumbled, although as a doctor he could understand what had prompted the personnel to such a dramatic decision. Well, there was no point in wondering about it now. "How long would it take?"

Amongst the Four Islands, Vokzel was the farthest from Raftel, although it wasn't particularly far.

"Around two hours, though, paradoxically, it can take faster. They'll have a tailwind."

"Send five ambulances to meet with them," Law ordered. "Just in case. Contact the port authorities in Roger Bay and request the aid in the possible rescue operation. They have some good ships that should stand even such weather. I expect that the medical records will be either brought in original or faxed here. Inform Bepo. And contact me if needed," he said in emphasis.

Jean Bart nodded. "Roger, boss," he replied and, wasting no time, started to execute the orders.

Law resisted the temptation to return on the eighth floor using ROOM. He had a nasty feeling that today he would be forced to use the Ope Ope no Mi in a more intensive way he'd assumed to, which meant he should preserve all energy. The lifts were a good invention in such situations. He went to the consultation session, although his insides were twisting at the thought of the risk taken by the personnel of the Vokzel hospital. Sending the critically ill patients to the sea during such an enormous storm... According to common sense, the chances all that affair would have a tragic end were much bigger than the probability of success.

Still, he knew that also miracles happened in the world, even though he didn't like to count on them. He'd done all he could; the rest was beyond his power. He forced himself to focus on his task, but it appeared that even such an easy thing like a medical consultation could be unnecessary problematic. One surgeon scolded a paediatrics resident, deciding she was presenting her case in a too long and too vast manner, and brought her to tears. He also snapped at the young psychiatrist who tried to remedy the situation, then folded his arms and ostentatiously turned to the wall. Two doctors from the obstetrics and gynaecology got into an argument and didn't shy from using the dirty language. Others were looking at those events with disgust, outrage and anxiety, although in fact everyone was trying to look anywhere else.

When the consultation turned into an open row, Law had to react. "Everything will be fine," he said, interrupting the two women who were currently calling one another the sea elephants.

All heads in the room turned towards him. Fatigue and guilt were reflected in some eyes, and some people blushed. The paediatrics resident tried to stop her sobbing. Even the surgeon seemed somewhat ashamed.

"Everything will be fine," Law repeated, although he'd never considered himself good at comforting or verbally motivating others. Yet, he was a director and a chief doctor here, which sometimes obliged him to more than just clinical work, even though he was under the impression his words sounded obviously unnatural. "The weather is giving us a hard time, but it's not us who really have it hard. We stay in a warm and safe hospital, and don't need to subject ourselves to the storm... Well, apart from some psychiatrists who must chase after their runaway patients," he said pointedly, bringing smile to two faces. "On top of that, we stay in a hospital with cure rate of one hundred percent, which is a dream of every doctor. There are many people that have it much worse now. Every storm ends, and the fine weather comes again. We've survived a lot so far, so we're going to survive this as well," he finished in a calm voice.

Some nodded. The surgeon cast him a reluctant look, and then rubbed his face with both hands. The psychiatrist gently patted the paediatrics resident on her shoulder, and she raised her chin up, wiped her tears and resolutely sniffed. The gynaecologists gazed at each other askance, then one of them stretched her hand and the other took it. To Law's eyes, all that seemed more theatrical it really was, but it was probably his nature that preferred to avoid showing his emotions, speaking. Nevertheless, the session continued in a much better atmosphere and no-one seemed to be bothered by the raving greyness outside the windows - or they were hiding it better than before - so his speech must have had the intended effect.

The consultations ended in just one hour, which was good; the doctors had just left when Jean Bart contacted Law again. "Will you drop by, boss?"

"On my way," Law repeated and the next moment was standing by the big man. "What's the situation?"

"It could have been better," Jean Bart reported outright in a glum voice. He knew he didn't have to mince his words when speaking to his superior. "The ship transporting the patients from Vokzel sank just a moment ago, but our ambulances and rescue services from Roger Bay managed to save almost everyone. They are on their way here already. Those with milder injuries will be bring by the ship. However, many are in critical conditions, so I dispatched three ambulances more. I think they'll be here in half an hour, maybe a bit later. I should get the more detailed information any moment, their number and condition."

"Good," Law commented, although it wasn't really good. "Send the last two boats as well. What about the medical records of the patients?"

"One nurse has them with her."

"I'm going to the emergency unit. Forward all communicates there."

"I've already done so."

Law nodded, clenching his teeth and then also his fists in the pockets of his white coat. He tried to focus on positives: there was less fatalities it could have been in this situation, but, like always, he felt bad, knowing someone died so close to Raftel. Moreover, there was no telling if all injured would arrive in the hospital in time...

The emergency department was on alert. Bepo was giving the instructions to the paramedics in the ambulances, his voice calm and firm. In the palpable tension the minutes seemed the hours, but Law realised the atmosphere here was completely different from what had been surrounding him for last few days. There was no bleak dejection and irritability, only sharp concentration and will to action. And even though there was nothing to be happy about, Law felt relieved. Just as he'd expected, something had happened to finally remedy that terrible condition the Corazon Memorial Hospital had suffered from for nearly a week. He also knew that, once he plunged into saving the lives, he would be filled with that extreme pleasant state of stimulation pushing aside all negative sensations.

The ambulances began to arrive in the hospital harbour. Law activated the Ope Ope no Mi and moved all patients to the operating theatres. The paramedics had already reported the most important things about the patients - their main illness and their current condition - so the personnel had the initial plan ready. The most basic procedures - resuscitation, suctioning the water from the lungs, and haemostasis - had been done in the ambulances. Now, all patients were put on the oxygen, and those who required it, received the blood transfusion. Those who didn't have any external injuries, were covered with heating blankets.

A young woman entered the room at a brisk pace. "My name is Ida," she introduced herself. "I work in the Vokzel Hospital, and I came with the patients. My two colleagues will arrive with the next transport. Who is in charge here?" she asked matter-of-factly, looking around.

"I'm Trafalgar Law," Law replied from his place by the examination table with a patient lying on it.

"Doctor Law, of course," the woman approached him, bowing her head lightly. Then she looked at the unconscious man, her eyes stopping at the plastic wristband. "This is Mr Lopez, fifty-one years old. He's been hospitalised because of myocarditis. Before that he was healthy except for hypertension," she said and turned to the woman on the next table. "This is Mrs Hashi, sixty-five years old. She was admitted this morning with infection-induced pulmonary oedema. She suffers from chronic heart failure." She looked at Law again.

"Please, keep talking."

The nurse gave a quick report about every of the seven patients that were currently in the unit. She didn't make any mistakes nor omitted any important details, and she answered Law's questions concisely, occasionally relying on the medical charts she'd transported under her blouse and the belt of her trousers. She hadn't cared about people around her, only casually had taken the papers out of her clothes, flashing with naked flesh and explaining, 'I needed my both hands, so it was the only way to bring those with me.' Despite her tangled, damp hair and crumpled, wet clothes, she'd made a very good impression on the staff, including Law.

The patients were a heterogeneous group in respect to their age and condition. All were on the verge of hypothermia. One patient had died in transit. Four were in critical condition due to exacerbation of their main illness. When the ship had started to sink, they'd been probably unconscious but under the care of the nurses, so they'd been quickly shifted to the ambulances, and all of them had been wearing the life vests.

Using the Ope Ope no Mi, Law stimulated their life functions - one patient got into a cardiac arrest on the operating table, but a direct heart massage together with a solid dose of his own adrenaline helped to get him back - and stabilised them on a safe level. Then, they were put on monitors and moved to the intensive therapy. Two patients had been injured during the catastrophe: one had got crushed by something heavy and had multiple fractures, and the other had lost his leg, probably in similar circumstances. Law had to perform life-saving operations that went without complications.

Two ambulances Jean Bart had sent as the last, brought another patient from Vokzel: a young man who'd got pinned under a fallen tree two days prior, and a sailor with a serious head injury who required Law's immediate attention. Those two were stabilised, too, but more were coming. The other ambulances returned from the second ride, bringing new wounded, those who'd had to be left earlier. In such situations, Law always came to the conclusion he didn't envy the rescue chief who had to make quick decisions about who needed help and treatment first, which actually meant deciding about life and death. He knew that mistakes could never be avoided and there was nothing to do about.

In the second transport were three last patients from the Vokzel Hospital, a man from the rescue service of the port of Roger Bay, injured in the operation, and a few unknown persons.

"Those are people who decided to come with us from Vokzel when they learned about the ship to the Corazon Memorial Hospital," Ida explained. "They had only mild conditions, but they demanded to be taken aboard. Normally, the captain would have removed them from the ship, but this time we were in a hurry and had to depart as soon as possible."

Law clenched his teeth at such foolishness... but did he have any right to judge those who'd tried to seek help in crisis? He knew such circumstances often made people lose their sanity and risk more than usually to realise their will. "How many were there?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, we didn't manage to count them. Between fifteen and twenty. I remember some of them from the hospital, but they were on different wards, so I can't say much about their condition," the nurse added apologetically.

"Do I think right that from the medical point of view they were in no danger on Vokzel?"

"Yes," Ida replied in a low voice.

Law said no more only focused on treatment. Most of those people were in severe hypothermia - they'd been in water longer than those under the care of the nurses - and some had serious injuries. The two worst were a young woman in advance pregnancy and a seemingly ten-year old boy with multiple fractures of the vertebral column who, according to common sense, should have been dead. Law operated on them both simultaneously. The pregnant woman had come at the last minute, for the foetal heartbeat had almost stopped. They were saved both, the woman and the little girl, although Law suspected he would have to perform some additional surgeries in order to remove the negative effects the prolonged cold might have on the unborn organism.

The boy had the vertebral column in pieces from the cervical region to the coccyx, along with the injuries of the spinal cord; he also had multiple fractures in his whole skeleton and injuries of many organs, mostly due to the bone fragments penetrating the soft tissues. He seemed as if something very heavy had fallen on him. Hypothermia had probably save his life, for it had diminished the internal bleeding and reduced the brain damage. Also, he probably lived because, contrary to the rest of his body, he had very little head injuries, and his respiratory centre was intact. Law froze his vitals.

He quickly tended to the remaining wounded; fortunately they hadn't suffered any major complications. "Bepo, are they still any patients requiring the Ope Ope no Mi?" he asked.

"No," the mink said. "Those in the next transports are either conscious or stable. We'll take care of them."

Law nodded. "In that case, I'm going to put this kid together. It'll take a few hours."

"How are you feeling?" Bepo asked.

"I'm all right," Law assured him, glancing at the clock. It was almost five PM, and the rescue operation had started at two. "Let me know if you need me."

"Sure."

Law made sure that the patients he'd operated were stable, and then narrowed the field of action to a single operating table with the wounded child. The boy's organism was a horrible sight, but only from the inside; the external injuries were scarce, with all bruises and scrapes almost invisible in the general cyanosis due to hypothermia. Seen though the eyes of the Ope Ope no Mi, however, he seemed to consist solely from pathological process. The Devil Fruit a kind of marked all dysfunctioning fragments and parts of the body. The perception happened on an entirely different level than normal, sensory, but if it could be described with colours, then Law would say that the afflicted organs, tissues and cells flashed red. In this case, the patient appeared all red, with only his head remaining 'invisible' in a scan.

Law had no idea where to start, but in the end he made a plan: first chest and abdomen, then the extremities, and then the vertebral column and the spinal cord. Systematically, one by one, he removed the fragments of sternum and ribs from the heart and the lungs, from the liver and the spleen, and then fragments of pelvis from the intestines. The kid's bones had been blown to bits; some pieces were not bigger than the tip of a nail. Once he'd managed to remove them all, he stared to repair the parenchyma and the ruptured blood vessels and nerves. Then he stimulated the healthy cells to grow in order to recreate the chest and the pelvis before covering them with the new muscles.

In a similar way, he tended to the patient's limbs - first upper, then the lower ones - before moving on to the spine. The reconstruction of that part was a great challenge, for every vertebra was different, and they had to fit one another in both shape and function. What helped Law in such situations was the genetic code that enabled him to recreate every anatomical element as it had been once organogenesis had been finished. Because some of the vertebrae had only simple fractures, he didn't have to create them all anew; it was enough that he connected the loose fragments and filled the loss with new bone mass. Others, however, especially in the lower cervical and upper thoracic regions, had been completely destroyed and had to be replaced. It was done by creating a tiny vertebra and then stimulating its growth so that it reached the size appropriate to the child's age.

It still didn't guarantee that the 'new' spine would be as good as the 'old', for the normal using of every organ caused its anatomical modification. After one year of wearing, no garment was the same as it had been at the beginning; the skeleton was like that, too, and in the case of a spine, that carried the whole weight and was vastly responsible for moving, the effect of living was even greater. In practice, it meant that Law might need to make some corrections once the patient regained his consciousness and started moving.

Before he began the reconstruction of the vertebral column, he removed all pieces of bone, even those microscopical, from the spinal cord. When the column was like new (or, in some parts, entirely new), he started to work on the cord. Paradoxically, recreating over two millions nerve fibres was much easier than building a backbone and, unlike it, happened almost automatically. The challenge was to properly connect the cells, so that the neurons from the motor cortex responsible for moving a hand would really move a hand, not some other part of the body. Fortunately, the spinal cord didn't undergo any particular modifications during life, it only grew, so once created, it should work just as it should.

After the patient's body was returned to the full anatomical norm, Law unfroze his vital functions. The heart started to beat, the blood flew in the vessels again, and the lungs filled with air. The temperature raised to the normal. The boy remained unconscious, just like all patients during the Ope Ope no Mi treatment, but his physiology seemed to work just fine. Law observed him for a while and made sure the patient's condition was stable. He ordered to put him on monitors and take to the postoperative ward.

He was about to deactivate the Ope Ope no Mi, but he suddenly remembered the last autumn and how he'd fainted after using his Devil Fruit intensively and for a prolonged time. He didn't want that Bepo panicked again, and thus he first searched for a place by the wall and only having sat down 'switched off' his power, unconsciously preparing for an unpleasant surprise. Fortunately, nothing of that kind happened, although he immediately felt terribly exhausted... He looked at the clock; it was almost eleven. Good time to go to bed, once he managed to reach his flat.

A quiet mumble was to be heard, and the next moment a head with dishevelled fair hair and sleepy blue green eyes appeared over his shoulder. He stared at the unfamiliar woman for a minute, before remembering she was that Ida from Vokzel. The nurse kept blinking in confusion, too, then her gaze flashed with understanding, and the woman jerked some half a meter back, almost falling down from her stool. "I'm sorry, Dr Law..!" she called in embarrassment, wiping her face. "I must've fallen asleep. I'm very sorry."

He shook his head, too tired to wonder why she'd reacted as if he'd been some wild beast. "It was a very hard day. You should've got some rest in the personnel quarters..."

"I wanted to look at your work, doctor."

"There was hardly anything to look at...?" he muttered. "Since you fell asleep."

Her cheeks turned red, and it was then that he realised he'd been rude.

"No, it's not what I meant, sorry... But it's true my operations aren't any sight, for everything happens inside the patient. So it's a good thing you got some sleep," he added and smiled.

Ida averted her eyes and rose. She smoothened her tousled hair she wore braided and then her crumpled coat, too. Law observed her in silence. He guessed she was around twenty-five. Her face without make-up was rather pleasant, and she seemed a nice person in general. Also, she appeared to be good at her work and apply herself to it.

"You helped us a lot," he said and got up, too. "I thank you on behalf of the whole staff."

She nodded.

"Oh, you're done?" Bepo's voice came from the door.

Law turned to him, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the nurse went to the other door. "Yes. You?"

"Actually, we're done too," the mink said and yawned. "How are you?"

"As you see, I'm fine," Law replied, stretching his eyes to the sides. "But I want to sleep. You probably too."

"Mhm," Bepo muttered and yawned again, but then his gaze became sharp. "Did I see well that you were flirting with a nurse?"

Law cast him an astonished look. "I never expected to hear something like that from you," he responded. "It's not my habit to flirt with the nurses and-"

"It was a joke. I know you never flirt with anyone."

For some reason, that remark hurt. However, Law didn't let himself wonder about this emotion only patted Bepo on the shoulder. "Good job. How many people have we operated?"

"You sixteen, we seven plus some minor procedures."

"All people brought to us survived?"

"Apart from that one that died in transit, yes."

"A better result I expected," Law said dryly, aware his words sounded almost cruel. He headed for the corridor, and Bepo followed. "How many 'stowaways' died?"

"Three bodies were fished out, but there were probably a few more victims," the mink muttered. "Eleven came here, while the nurses told about twenty."

Law nodded and yawned. "Go to sleep," he suggested. "We have enough people on the night shift, right?"

"Yeah."

"Tell them to wake me up if anything happens."

Bepo nodded. "Good night," he said and made for his room in the far end of the corridor, while Law went to the lift. "Ah!" he called and turned to Law once more. "It's good I didn't go to that congress," he declared contentedly.

Law smiled wryly. "Good," he agreed. "But you can still make it."