Disclaimer: No, not mine Still, I had so much fun…
Thank you for reading!
-Somewhere in the New World-
Puru puru puru…
Click.
"I relied your message." The woman's voice came through the hum of stasis and background noise. The sea, probably. "Wouldn't hope for much of an effect, though. The kid seems pretty thick-skulled."
"I'll see to your reimbursement be sent immediately."
"Don't feel bad, this place was busted anyway. Although, you might start looking for new den den mushi now." A shuffle in the background as male voice joined hasty discussion. "Apparently, it's model '85z."
"Right. Watch your step."
Click.
The snail fell back asleep, looking eerily ill in a pale screen light of monitors and dusty lamp. Blue light of the screens cast shadows over the room. It reached the wanted posters, notes and maps pinned to the board on the far side of the room.
The man by the den den mushi stand took a look at a newspaper cutting freshly stacked atop of the others.
He was so close. He couldn't stray from the plan now. The risk was insane.
"Come on, Law. Connect the dots."
It was an early morning and there was a knock on his doors.
"Come in!"
Chopper looked up from his records as his visitor entered his office.
"Law!" He watched the human approach. "Did something happen? How's your fever?"
"Gone." Law held out familiar looking rectangular object in Chopper's direction. "I came to return the book."
"Oh." Chopper took the tome and placed it on the table. "I have more, If you are interested.."
"I don't think I'll find time for reading anytime soon." Halfway to his bookcase, Chopper stopped short. Right.
They were almost at Dressrosa.
"We should be arriving soon." He nodded. Conversation with Nami flashed in his mind. The wind was good for sails the last night. "Do you think they'll have something on herbal synthesis there? I might not have Gromm's equipment just yet, but Franky promised to look at some designs… It would be easier for him to have something to work with already."
"Possibly." Admitted Law, but his head snapped up at shout coming from the deck above.
"I see land!"
"It must be Dressrosa!" Beamed Chopper. "Come on!"
The doors swung closed. A gust of drought came from the motion, prodding scattered papers on the desk. It rustled over the returned book, notes sprawling over the tome. They blended with a bookmark stuck between the pages. Faded, yellowish pages were sticking out slightly due to the book's format.
Notes on retention and handling Amber Lead poisoning.
Dr Trafalgar Jeremy and Dr Watel Trafalgar Galea
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