Hearing, "They really miss you," Sanji had promised, "Even Law's been asking after you." And Sanji's assurances that everything had been a breeze while he was gone had not prepared Zoro for his first day back.

TCH was already in isolation, tethered with a chain. Isolation was a glass box with nothing in it. No bed. No food. No water. No door. Later, when Zoro would remove TCH, he'd learn that the box was actually lowered into place over him; securing into tracts several feet below the surface.

LAW was in a glass tank, submerged in some strange neon fluid. He had breathing nodules in his nose, but he still swallowed mouthful after mouthful when he screamed or tried to speak. It looked agonizing and it made Zoro physically ill to watch. Somehow the scientists managed. They'd speak to him, ask him questions, and finally, inject him with the medication.

"You're back!" LUF exclaimed, pacing the glass wall impatiently.

"Yeah, I'm back," Zoro murmured, placing his hand on the pad.

"Back up," Vander barked, clapping his hands together loudly. "Give us some space."

"I'm back too, little shit," Diez snapped, pulling the Taser out from the compartment. "And I'm not on the menu."

"Where's Sanji?" LUF asked, doing his best to ignore the other keepers.

"He's with Law," Zoro answered.

"L.A.W.," Diez growled, "Don't be giving them cute pet names. Especially this week. You never know when Boss Man will show up."

"Boss man?" Zoro wondered.

"Mr. Donquixote," Vander explained, "CEO, President, whatever the fuck else he is of The D Foundation."

"Ah, haven't met him," Zoro murmured, stepping into the Ds' cell. He turned LUF around, pinning his arms behind his back. "But his reputation proceeds him."

"You mean his '56 Aston Martin Roadster or the beautiful women he's always got on his arm…?" Vander mused.

"I don't even understand it," Diez admitted, pushing LUF along, "He can't even fit in an Aston Martin Roadster! Why spend over 20 million on it?!"

"Is that a car or something?" Zoro asked, shaking his head.

"You aren't into cars?" Vander asked in surprise, "I figured you were a Tokyo Drift sorta kid." Zoro blinked in reply. Vander and Diez laughed. Vander continued, "What sorta stuff are ya into?"

"I don't know," Zoro shrugged, "Normal stuff."

"Hentai?" Vander questioned, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Just normal stuff, you know, normal…" Zoro insisted, shaking his head. "I like the UFC. I was in the amateur MMA circuit. I'll probably go back when I get out of here."

"Eh, I'm a boxing fan," Diez replied. "Could never get into UFC."

"What's the UFC?" LUF asked.

"Ultimate Fighting Championship. It's a contest, kinda, where people compete using different martial arts."

"Like jiu jitsu?" LUF wondered.

Zoro nodded, even though he was behind LUF, "Yeah, exactly."

"Are you any good?" LUF asked flatly.

Zoro groaned, a half-laugh escaping his lips, "Not good enough to be famous, but not shitty enough I can't stop a bank robber or two…"

Suddenly LUF wasn't moving. Zoro collided with the back of him. Diez grunted in pain, his arm yanking with the abrupt stop. Zoro almost loosened his grip on LUF, "What's wrong?"

"I don't wanna go." LUF confessed.

"Too bad," Vander snapped, kicking the back of LUF's knees.

LUF buckled from the pressure, dropping to his knees. Vander and Diez moved quickly, each grabbing LUF under the arm. They hoisted his slender frame and began to drag him down the hall. "Keep up, Zoro!"

"I don't wanna go!" LUF shouted, throwing his feet to the floor. His bare feet slipped along the tile, his toes leaving little prints. "I don't wanna go!" LUF repeated, thrashing wildly. "I don't wanna go!" LUF threw his head forward, trying to knock the two keepers off their balance.

"LUF! KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF!" Vander roared, pausing momentarily to crush his boot down on LUF's feet. "MOVE YOUR ASS!"

"I don't wanna go!" LUF screamed, twisting himself in an unnatural position. He twisted further and further, until it seemed his arms would dislocate, and then he pushed back the other way, twirling violently out of their grips.

Diez cursed, grabbing his neck in agony. Vander cursed even louder, shouting, "Hands off!" Diez slapped Zoro's hand away, just a second before Vander tasered him. 100,000 volts of electricity coursed through LUF's body. It shook him terribly, his teeth smashing together until they broke. His skin was burned black where the Taser volts hit and where it exited. "Be careful," Diez groaned, "You wanna die? This thing has a current of .100 amps!"

Zoro was stunned by the violence.

He didn't know if he could move. He didn't even know if he could breathe. Everything felt wrong and terrifying.

"I…don't…wan…na…go…" LUF croaked out weakly.

Vander and Diez each grabbed a leg. They dragged LUF down the hall, his head gliding over the tile. "Keep up, Zoro!"

But Zoro didn't follow. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Everything was wrong and terrifying.

In the research lab, Sanji was having a terrible time of his own. He had seen how TCH went from an uncouth, boisterous man to a spineless, quivering coward. And he'd seen how LAW, unflinching and unreadable had become mindless and uncontainable. But the worst was watching LUF being dragged, nearly unconscious, into the lab. He gasped for air before being lowered into the tank. There was so much blood in his nose and mouth they had to pull him out and clear his passages before submerging him again.

"How are you feeling, LUF?" Caesar rasped, taking notes on his clipboard. LUF didn't respond. Caesar frowned, "Well then, administer 100 ccs."

"What is it?" Sanji asked, licking his lips.

"What we give him isn't what's important, little Vinsmoke," Caesar replied, grinning from ear to ear once more. "It's what we're taking."

"And what are you taking?" Sanji questioned.

"It takes only one minute for his blood to circulate back to his heart. Less if he's excited or frightened…" Caesar explained. "And then we take it," Caesar pointed to the port valve in LUF's arm. "And we use it."

"For what?" Sanji asked, shrugging, "Researching the virus? Why? You made it, didn't you? To monitor their restoration cells? To isolate their reparative genes?"

"Ah," Caesar ticked his finger against his chin thoughtfully, "Those are Vinsmoke questions." Caesar looked Sanji up and down, "You should be on my side of Deadhouse."

"No thanks," Sanji refused.

"I've heard so much about the Vinsmoke Quads; genius, handsome little rapscallions…" Caesar teased, "It's a waste of your superior education to be a paper pusher."

"I agree," Sanji retorted. "That's why I'm here."

"This job hardly utilizes your brilliance…" Caesar argued, "Where'd you go to school again?"

"A tiny school in Cambridge, Massachusetts," Sanji joked, "You probably haven't heard of it."

Caesar nodded, "Typical. You worked too hard when you were young and you don't have any drive left."

"I have plenty left," Sanji snapped, "I just don't plan on using it to hurt people."

"They're not people, Sanji."

"They talk, they laugh, they sleep, they eat," Sanji rattled off angrily, "What the fuck else do you call it?"

"Science."

"Then science has gone too far." Sanji declared, "At least the kind of science you're doing."

"What do you think paid for that fancy MIT education? Or your private school in France? Or the cars you drive? The food you eat?" Caesar scolded. "Hell, even your pretty face and perfect body? This 'kinda' science."

Sanji tossed his hands into the air, he opened his mouth to reply, but then he reconsidered. Instead he grabbed Caesar by his lab coat and pressed him roughly against the glass tank. He leaned in closely, looking up at the much taller man, "I can go to sleep at night knowing that I don't hurt people. People. Can you honestly say that?"

"Maybe not," Caesar admitted, straightening up as Sanji released him, "But in two years' time, do you think you'll still be able to?"

"Your approach doesn't work," Sanji snapped, taking the stairs three at a time, "It gets people killed."

"Where're you going?" Vander called out, gesturing to LUF still in the tank.

"If you're all such fucking experts, do it yourselves!" Sanji shouted.

Caesar laughed, "I'll be sure to tell your daddy about your little tantrum today. I'm sure he'll find it very amusing."

"I'm the director here, not you and not the Judge," Sanji paused at the landing, "We're going to start doing things differently. For example, why the fuck do you need to have them in those tanks if you're just drawing blood?"

"Interesting question," Caesar rasped with a grin, "It's to keep their temperatures down. We believe that the medication caused a fever in the other 26 subjects and therefore destroyed the nervous system."

"Didn't you say there were huge freezers here? Big enough for 15,000 dead bodies?" Sanji challenged, "Wouldn't they be more comfortable in the cold rather than simulated drowning?"

"Ah, but the wet box also keeps them safe and secure…" Caesar pointed out.

"You have six months to come up with better solutions," Sanji ordered, "And then I'm taking over."

"Better solutions to what?!" Caesar demanded in outrage.

"The treatment of the subjects in the Deadhouse unit," Sanji clarified without room for interpretation. "Fix this fucking mess. Make it work for you too, sure. Money isn't an object. You have six months."

"And how do you suppose we improve their living and work conditions, Sanji?"

Sanji grabbed the railing with his hands tightly, "What if, instead of dragging them down long, dark hallways you make 'glass' hallways that extend from their cell? They can't hurt us, we can't hurt them."

"Like a dog run of sorts?" Caesar murmured, thinking.

"But they don't come willingly, and it'll just give them more room to hide and wander…" Vander debated.

"It's time for you to shut up," Sanji snapped, "You weren't invited to this conversation. You're not an engineer."

"Instead of glass we could use steel," one of the researcher's suggested, "With glass panels so we could still see inside and for light. But then, if we used steel, we could use roll bars to secure the halls when we didn't need them."

"There, see?" Sanji chimed, trying to hide his irritation. "You're all brilliant. You can think of ways. I'm giving you a gift, really. How do you want your lab to look? How do you want your lab to run? And how secure and healthy do you want your subjects? It's just proper fucking science…"

"Remodeling would take time." Caesar said, watching Sanji intently.

"Then we skip a dose of the medication or two," Sanji proposed. "That itself would be an interesting variable. And then at least two thirds of them would be on their best behavior."

"I think you overestimate their desire to please," Caesar drawled in amusement.

Sanji shook his head, "Not at all. My team will be busy at work too."

"Doing what?" Vander interjected again.

"Bribing the fuck out of the residents." Sanji explained, "We're going to offer everything in our power to give them." Sanji sighed, "You've given them nothing. They have nothing to look forward to. No friendships outside of one another. When's the last time you bought new books?"

"Okay, alright…" Caesar murmured, waving his hands dismissively. "I'll think about it."

"No," Sanji refused flatly, "You're going to do it."

"You've got a terrible personality," Caesar complained.

Sanji shrugged, tapping his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He frowned, remembering they were in his other clothes. He returned his attention to Caesar, "Yeah, well, I am a Vinsmoke."

"Where's Zoro?" Diez suddenly asked.

Everyone looked around. Sanji walked back down the steps and down the hall. He found Zoro where Diez and Vander had left him; just standing there with a vacant look on his face.

"You okay?" Sanji murmured.

"I wanna figure out how it works," Zoro said, meeting Sanji's eye, "I want to know what they're doing here."

Sanji nodded, "I can help there. I was in charge of encrypting this compound's data before I came here. I've been doing it for two years now."

"Jesus," Zoro grunted, finally starting to gain color. "How long have you worked here?"

"I graduated college at 14," Sanji replied, starting to walk, "Took a year sabbatical in Italy. The Judge finally found me and made me come back home. I spent another year in intensive combat training and then I started working for the family business."

"Why the combat training?"

Sanji gestured around, "I guess because things like this exist."

"Makes sense, I guess," Zoro agreed. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"What's encrypting?"

Sanji groaned loudly as he threw his arm over Zoro's shoulder, "Puzzles, Zoro. Puzzles."

It would be two days later before Sanji and Zoro would have the time to sit down and peruse old Deadhouse files. And then another three days before they found anything of value.

"Vergo," Sanji gasped, stabbing the computer screen with his finger. "Fucking Vergo worked for Deadhouse?!"

"That's the director of Nostrum unit?" Zoro questioned.

Sanji nodded, "Uh huh. That one."

"I thought you weren't allowed to communicate with anyone outside the unit for five years?"

"That's my understanding too."

Zoro leaned back in his chair, "Should we just go ask?"

"But I hate him…" Sanji protested.

"He might have answers," Zoro pointed out.

"But I really fucking hate him," Sanji insisted.

"Do you have a better idea?" Zoro pressed.

And because he didn't have a better idea, they suddenly found themselves knocking on the Nostrum unit door. No one answered. Sanji began to pace. Zoro knocked again, "Hello?" Nothing.

Zoro tried to block out Sanji's incessant pacing, "It's Zoro with the Deadhouse unit."

There was a soft buzz and the door popped open. Zoro and Sanji exchanged looks. Sanji approached the door, peering inside the open crack, "Do you mean we could just have walked right in?"

"Or someone's watching us," Zoro reasoned.

Sanji immediately straightened up, adjusting his clothes and smoothing down his hair. "Let's go in then."

The first room was a lounge. It resembled a fancy plastic surgeon's office. The plants were real and there were even tiny bottles of water on the greeting table. Zoro was embarrassed to discover the help desk after he'd been looking around the room like an idiot.

"How can we help you?"

"We'd like to speak with Vergo, please," Sanji requested.

"Take a seat. We'll let him know you're here."

And in no time at all, Vergo was opening the door, grinning as he declared, "I knew you'd come see me! Ready for a new job?"

"I'm here to ask about Deadhouse." Sanji said simply. "And about when you worked there."

"Reading through old files? Can't sleep?" Vergo teased. "I can help with that."

"Can we go to your office?" Zoro suggested, eyeing Vergo with distaste.

"Sure," Vergo decided, holding the door for Sanji and then walking on, "What do you want to know?"

"Do you have the Memoriae implant?" Zoro inquired, sitting down in the chair nearest the door.

"I do not," Vergo confirmed, "It hadn't been invented yet."

"And now? They don't care that you have confidential information regarding our most highly secretive experiments?" Sanji pressed.

Vergo laughed, "I'm not Germa Six Six. I'm Donquioxte's best and dearest friend. I have proven my loyalty."

"When did you work in Deadhouse?" Zoro pushed.

"About 6-7 years ago now."

"How long did you work there? Two years?"

"No, no, I was a temporary replacement."

"Because someone was killed."

"No, actually," Vergo corrected, "There was an immediate staffing issue and the current keepers at the time had to step down."

"Is that a joke?" Sanji questioned.

Vergo laughed, "No. They really weren't eaten. They were let go… I guess…"

"What do you mean?"

"There weren't time limits when Deadhouse started up. The keepers were expected to stay on as long as they were physically able to, like the research team. Complications arose so Germa Six Six decided that keepers could only work in Deadhouse for two years at a time."

"What complications?"

"The original keepers grew too attached and had to step down."

"That's it?!" Sanji exclaimed.

"That's it," Vergo confirmed, "What'd you think it was?"

"I don't know. Growing gills? I don't know…"

"Kids and their imaginations," Vergo teased.

"Where are they now? The original keepers?" Zoro asked.

"Don't know. Don't care. All I do know is they no longer work for the D Foundation or Germa Six Six."

"And they were before the Memoriae implant," Zoro asked for clarification.

"Yeah, though I heard it was offered to everyone retroactively."

"Did they take it?" Sanji inquired.

Vergo shrugged, "No idea. We aren't exactly the same social circles."

"What are they doing in Deadhouse?" Zoro asked abruptly.

Vergo smiled, "You don't know?"

"Humor us," Sanji interjected.

Vergo nodded, "It began 25 years ago as a study on diseased tissue. They wanted to experiment with regeneration. The animal trials had gone mildly successfully and they wanted to move on to bigger better things. Well, as you know, human experimentation is highly frowned upon and illegal in almost every country."

"So 15 years ago," Vergo continued, "Germa Six Six teamed up with the D Foundation. They had a similar goal. The D Foundation supplied the bodies and Germa Six Six brought with them two decades of research."

"Deadhouse was never meant to have residents. It was a complete shock to everyone involved. 30 dead people suddenly sat up and started moving. Can you imagine?"

"What is the medication?"

"I'm getting there. Be patient," Vergo sighed, "The serum they created didn't work. It didn't regenerate or repair any human cells. But something happened. There was a subject, LAW. He'd died of some third world leprosy type shit. When they injected his corpse with the serum, it was his disease that began to regenerate. It spread to 30 other corpses."

"How's that possible?"

"To save on costs they'd reuse the syringe. They're dead. It didn't matter… Or so they thought. Twelve researchers got sick, one died. And the disease spread. It must've been a fucking horrible way to die. It spread through the corpses' cells. And luckily for them, it began to spread the serum."

"Wow. So many variables," Sanji shook his head, "It's a god damn nightmare study."

"They treated all of the corpses," Vergo continued, ignoring Sanji, "LAW was the only one who couldn't be cured."

"Is he contagious?" Zoro grunted, touching his healing shoulder.

"Nah, it's the opposite," Vergo explained, smiling, "He's harmless on the surface. A bite or two is even beneficial. Almost like a cure."

"Cure to what?" Sanji murmured.

"Good question."

"If the serum spreads his disease, why do they constantly inject them with more?" Zoro demanded.

"Because two things need to be present in order for the anti-dote to work; a small dose of the serum and-"

"Their blood," Sanji finished.

Vergo nodded, "Bingo."

"What anti-dote?" Zoro pressed, shaking his head in confusion.

"They're making a weapon," Sanji said, sitting back in his chair, "And the Ds are the insurance it won't get them too."

"How can you make a weapon out of this?" Zoro questioned, feeling like an idiot.

"This is where you leave Deadhouse and Nostrum research," Vergo sighed, "So I don't know too much of the details myself, but…" Vergo opened his drawer and pulled out a vile of pale green fluid. "This is the cure. We manufacture it here in Nostrum. We take the Ds blood, which is already pumped full of the serum, and we preserve it. We add a few little things here and there, but mostly this is pure D."

"I understand that another compound is making the weapon," Vergo said, "Which can usually only be made with LAW's blood. There are exceptions."

"Because of his disease." Sanji realized.

"The serum spreads the disease at an exhilarated rate. But of course, LAW's blood must be removed first."

"You remove LAW's blood from LAW's blood?" Zoro scoffed.

Sanji nodded, "They're isolating specific cells."

"Splicing." Vergo said simply.

"So LAW is the weapon but also the cure. And the other two…?" Zoro muttered unsurely.

"Their blood is also used for the anti-dote and vaccines. Every D Foundation and Germa Six Six employee is inoculated against the weapon." Vergo assured them, "So you're safe. You've already been given the vaccine."

"So the medicine Deadhouse is injecting them with now… It's not just the serum. It can't be…" Sanji realized.

Vergo nodded, "Exactly. Every month they're injected with LAW's blood. It's the only time all three of the Ds blood can be used for the same purpose."

"Making a weapon," Sanji understood.

"Exactly," Vergo nodded again. "Now is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yeah," Zoro said, sitting up in his chair, "What happened to the fourth?"