New World.
Egghead.
As Darren followed Borsalino into the research institute, the first thing that hit him was the maze of steel corridors.
Entrances branched in every direction. Every so often, mechanically enhanced animals—and some truly vicious-looking beasts—prowled the passages, clearly meant to repel and eliminate intruders.
"These creatures have undergone biomechanical modification," Borsalino explained, waving a hand at a pack of rabid animals barreling toward them. A red glint flashed in their eyes, and they abruptly retreated into the shadows, their aggression snuffed out as if someone had flipped a switch.
Darren nodded.
He'd seen similar methods in Queen's lab.
That overalls-wearing fatso had grafted comparable tech onto his own body—mechanical arms, a tail packed with cannons and laser weapons—expanding the combat range of his Ancient Zoan form to an absurd degree.
But unlike Queen's crude, purely weaponized approach, these beasts followed a different path entirely.
Vegapunk's biological modification was cleaner. More advanced. It had already reached something close to "brain control."
If Darren's hunch was right, the Kuma from the original story had undergone this very process—turning flesh into steel, erasing emotion, wiping away consciousness until only an obedient shell remained.
"Just ahead is the main lab," Borsalino said, guiding Darren and Stussy down a long steel corridor and into a vast chamber.
Towering machines lined the room, each fitted with huge glass tanks filled with pale green liquid. Suspended inside were human organs—hearts, kidneys, lungs, and more.
Bubbles rose now and then, and the organs twitched in steady rhythm.
They were still alive.
"These…" Darren narrowed his eyes.
Borsalino raised both hands in mock surrender. "Don't look at me like that," he said. "They're artificial organs. Cloned organs, to be precise."
Darren studied the specimens, then asked abruptly, "Has this technology matured yet?"
Borsalino shook his head. "Not yet. They're cloned, but for some reason they still trigger rejection when transplanted."
His expression turned a shade more thoughtful. "And the stronger the recipient's natural constitution, the more violent the rejection."
Darren frowned. "But cloning tech should be pretty mature by now. Even Germa 66 can mass-produce clone soldiers."
Borsalino snorted. "And that's exactly why Germa's clones have an average lifespan of less than ten years."
Darren fell quiet.
Borsalino chuckled softly. "Maybe the human body has its own memory. Even with identical genes, it still recognizes the organ as foreign—not as the comrade it once fought alongside."
Darren didn't pursue it. Instead, he glanced toward the opposite side of the floor. "What's that?"
Borsalino followed his gaze, and a playful grin spread across his face.
"Ah," he drawled, "that's a pretty interesting little toy."
He strolled over to a massive machine and swiped across its screen until he landed on a specific entry.
He didn't bother hiding what he was doing. Darren and Stussy could see every selection, every input.
[ "Zoan-Type · Feline · Orange Cat" ]
Borsalino pressed a red button.
The machine rumbled to life, a deep hum vibrating through the floor.
Less than half a minute later, a hatch in its center slowly opened.
White mist billowed out.
And when it cleared, a cherry-shaped fruit sat inside.
"That's…" Stussy's pupils pinched tight, shock twisting her face as the words escaped her. "An Artificial Devil Fruit?!"
Borsalino picked it up and tossed it lightly in his hand, smiling brightly.
"Yep. An Artificial Devil Fruit," he said, almost cheerfully. "As you saw, this one's a Zoan—Cat-Cat Fruit, Model: Orange Cat."
"Even though it's artificial, its Lineage Factor matches the real thing. The effects are basically indistinguishable from a genuine Devil Fruit."
"The only issue is a few minor side effects."
Darren raised an eyebrow. "What kind of side effects?"
Borsalino casually tossed the fruit into a nearby waste-disposal unit.
Stussy's eye twitched.
Even the most ordinary Zoan was priceless. And Kizaru had thrown it away like trash.
Then again… if I had a machine that could make them, I probably wouldn't care either.
The disposal unit roared to life, incinerating the Artificial Devil Fruit in seconds. Borsalino spread his hands.
"Who knows? Maybe the user gets more bestial. Maybe some bodily function goes haywire—uncontrollable crying, uncontrollable laughter…" He shrugged. "Trivial stuff. And yet Dr. Vegapunk calls these complete failures. What a waste."
"Geniuses tend to be perfectionists," Darren said, unbothered. Then he asked, mild curiosity in his tone, "Can you make Paramecia and Logia fruits too?"
"Not yet," Borsalino muttered. "Paramecia and Logia—especially Logia—their Lineage Factors are a nightmare to decode. Even Dr. Vegapunk's hit a wall."
He kept walking, hands in his pockets, voice drifting along lazily.
"Still, he's made breakthroughs in a few other areas."
"He's reaffirmed Seastone's 'ocean' affinity and is trying to embed it into Marine ship hulls—block Sea Kings' perception so the ships can move safely through the Calm Belt."
"And the gigantification project is making progress, too."
He scratched his head as if he were thinking out loud, sounding almost bored.
"Of course, none of this leaked from me…"
He glanced back with a grin that was entirely too innocent.
"You infiltrated Egghead yourself and pulled it from the secret compartment in Archives Room 201-A, second floor of the research institute—password 9527."
To be continued...