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Rockwell had presented nine Devil Fruits. While none were particularly powerful abilities, the gesture itself showed his dedication.
Moreover, the value of Devil Fruits had been skyrocketing over the years. Among the five dominant powers of the New World—the "Four Emperors and One Sovereign"—everyone was collecting them, with the exception of the newly ascended Red Hair Pirates.
The Beast Pirates' legions, Whitebeard's sons, Big Mom, and even the Thunder Emperor were all hoarding fruits.
This unintentional signal released by the four ruling powers of the New World caused the market price of Devil Fruits to explode. Rarely did any appear for sale on the open market anymore.
To find a Devil Fruit now required not just influence, but luck!
Previously, when members of the Thunder God Pirates seized fruits in battle or found them by chance, they would often eat them themselves.
That would no longer be the case. Arthur had already issued a directive through Stussy to collect Devil Fruits with maximum effort.
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One Month Later!
The great ship swayed upon the waves. The Rockwell Pirates had finally left the North Blue, traversed Reverse Mountain, and officially entered the Grand Line.
Hundreds of crew members were exhilarated to have entered the pirates' dreamland, their eyes filled with longing for the unknown waters ahead.
Rockwell, true to his background in the slave trade, had an excellent eye for people. The hundred-plus crew members each had their own unique skills and held onto their dreams. Most rarely, they got along well with one another, with hardly any quarrels breaking out.
For the past month, the only unchanging scenery on the ship was Arthur.
He had sat alone in a large chair on the deck for the entire month without moving, completely immersed in his "Soul Surgery" experiments on the Devil Fruits.
The Op-Op Fruit indeed possessed surgical techniques targeting the soul, but the difficulty of the operation exceeded Arthur's imagination.
With his current knowledge, strength, and understanding of Devil Fruit abilities, any fruit that fell into his hands could be easily elevated to a high level, if not instantly perfected.
The speed at which one developed a fruit's power increased with one's experience, strength, and mental maturity.
Inside the Op-Op Fruit's "ROOM," failure in surgery was acceptable; it wouldn't result in casualties. Arthur had already tested this on volunteers from Rockwell's crew, easily swapping the personalities (souls) of two individuals!
He could even tamper with a human soul, surgically excising certain "desires," such as aggression. This was preparation for the scenario where two Devil Fruits entering the same body would fight each other.
Over the month, Arthur used the flawless precision of the Op-Op Fruit combined with his Future Sight Haki to accelerate his development. He now knew the human soul like the back of his hand. Performing soul surgery was a matter of a single cut; he could instantly render a person devoid of all desire!
But it was useless. The "Soul" of a Devil Fruit was incredibly stubborn, existing as a singular entity. He didn't know where to begin the incision, which part to remove to eliminate their inherent conflict, or how to force the demons' souls to merge!
"Tsk..." Arthur rubbed his aching head and grabbed a bottle of wine from the side table, taking two large gulps.
He had "sliced" the "souls" of the two Devil Fruits in his hands thousands of times. Yet, no matter what he removed or how he tried to fuse them, it was futile. There was almost no point of entry.
He had wasted several crates of apples to let the fruits respawn. In the thousands of futures he had foreseen, every single attempt ended in failure.
It wasn't until they were crossing Reverse Mountain, while the crew marveled at the spectacular scenery, that a casual reprimand from Rockwell to a crew member jolted Arthur from his endless cycle of surgeries.
"Just because you haven't seen it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. And what you see isn't necessarily the truth!"
The more Arthur pondered these words, the more sense they made.
It seemed that ever since he emerged from the Rainbow Mist and developed the ability to see the future, he had come to trust his visions implicitly. He had become increasingly reliant on Future Sight.
Whenever a mistake appeared in the final moments of a vision, he would immediately abandon that path and start the next surgery.
But he had forgotten: the future he saw was not necessarily the absolute truth...
To truly succeed, he had to feed the surgically altered Devil Fruit to a person and witness the failure with his own eyes. That would be a true experiment.
A simulation is, forever, just a simulation. Even the most likely vision is merely a "probability," not a certainty.
Future Sight is not absolute!
Without testing on living humans, the experiment might never succeed!
However, using people for such a terrifying experiment meant that failure would result in certain death. The pirates on this ship were his own people. No matter how insane Arthur might be, he would not slaughter his own subordinates for an experiment.
He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache over the wasted month, even though time was the one thing he had in abundance.
"Rockwell, you're not bad!" Arthur snapped out of his thoughts, praised Rockwell after downing more wine.
"Huh?"
Rockwell was confused, unsure why the Thunder Emperor was praising him, but he felt honored nonetheless.
"I'm tired. I'm going to rest."
After finishing the wine, Arthur gave a casual order. He took a wide-brimmed hat, covered his face with it, and lay back to sleep.
In the past month, he had only rested three times. The extreme mental focus, combined with the stamina-draining nature of the Op-Op Fruit and thousands of uses of Future Sight, had long since left him exhausted. If not for his immense physical strength and rapid recovery, he might have passed out on the spot. It was more draining than a fierce battle.
"Yes, sir!"
Rockwell nodded and backed away gently. He hurriedly signaled the pirates on deck to keep it down and not disturb the Thunder Emperor's rest.
In his eyes, Arthur was a perfect man, with only one slight flaw...
For a pirate who faced the harsh weather of the seas and senseless battles without blinking, this man had a terrifying case of—Morning Temper!
The last time he rested, he was woken by a Sea King attack. The look of inexplicable, thunderous rage on his face had nearly scared the crew to death.
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"Captain Rockwell, pirate ship spotted ahead!" A scout quietly passed the message along, stealing a glance at the man sleeping on the lounge chair in the sea breeze.
There were seven magnetic paths in the first half of the Grand Line. After descending Reverse Mountain, the pirate crew had actively chosen the rightmost path, closest to the Calm Belt.
Intelligence suggested this route had the fewest pirates. They wanted to avoid unnecessary conflicts, reach Sabaody Archipelago quickly to enter the New World, and, most importantly, not disturb Arthur's rest.
Unexpectedly, they encountered a pirate crew just as they entered the route.
"What?" Rockwell frowned instantly, gazing out at the distant sea.
"What crew is it? Can we steer around them without waking Lord Arthur?"
"It's the Cook Pirates... and they're heading right for us!"
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