"After all, you're Rogers Darren—an existence on the level of a monster. You even killed the Commander of the Knights of God… Infiltrating Egghead to steal classified data shouldn't be much of a challenge for you."
Borsalino brushed his stubble with long, slender fingers, wearing an expression of sincere contemplation as if weighing the credibility of his own story. A satisfied smile soon spread across his face, as though he were genuinely pleased with this "arrangement."
"Hm. When you put it that way, I suppose that is exactly how it went."
Darren nodded solemnly, agreeing without a hint of shame. "With my abilities, I could easily break through the storms and blizzards around Egghead. The mechanical behemoths and genetically modified creatures guarding the institute wouldn't even slow me down."
"And as for how I found the secret compartment hidden in Archives Room A-201 on the second floor of the experimental wing—and how I knew the password was 9527…" He paused, as if deliberating seriously. "Do you think we can chalk that up to sheer luck?"
Borsalino shot him an amused, sideways look.
"Of course."
"If you didn't have luck," he drawled, "you wouldn't have survived this long, would you?"
They exchanged a glance, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. Their eyes crinkled into identical smiles, as if they'd just finalized a perfectly airtight plan.
Stussy listened to their back-and-forth in dead silence, utterly dumbfounded.
When you say it like that… it almost sounds reasonable. Almost. But it's still complete bullshit.
She stared at Darren and Borsalino like they'd both lost their minds.
Do you seriously think Marine Headquarters and the World Government will swallow this nonsense?!
Her lips twitched uncontrollably, and she even felt a sharp ache bloom in her chest.
From that moment on, Stussy's "tour" turned into a blur, as if her soul had floated clean out of her body.
Darren, on the other hand, was thoroughly engaged.
With Borsalino guiding him—and explaining far more than someone in his position ever should—Darren gained a broad, shockingly coherent understanding of Egghead's internal facilities, troop deployments, and ongoing research projects.
Lineage Factor research. Cloning. Biomechanical modification. Artificial lifeforms. Gigantification. Seastone-coated Marine ships. All-island climate control. Artificial island clouds. Artificial diamonds. The conditions for transferring Devil Fruit abilities. Artificial Devil Fruits. Holographic projections…
One impossible technology after another—things the outside world couldn't even imagine—was being realized on this egg-shaped island.
Even Darren, with all his experience, couldn't help the quiet awe that settled in his chest.
In an era where most nations still relied on torches and oil lamps, and where flintlock guns and cannons remained the dominant weapons, Vegapunk had single-handedly pushed the world into a new age.
His tech tree is on a completely different level…
"So," Borsalino said, halting at last, "this is the innermost core of the institute."
Darren's thoughts cut off.
Borsalino stood before an unassuming door and turned, smiling at Darren and Stussy.
"The office of Dr. Vegapunk," he announced, "the genius said to be five hundred years ahead of the world."
At those words, Stussy instinctively held her breath. Excitement trembled under her composure, barely restrained.
Finally… finally I can see Dr. Vegapunk again.
Her fists clenched tight at her sides.
Borsalino lifted a hand and knocked gently. A deep voice answered from within. Borsalino pushed the door open.
"Dr. Vegapunk," he said, "I brought the person you've been waiting for."
The door swung inward, revealing a simple laboratory—slightly cramped, slightly chaotic.
Massive machines crowded the walls. Petri dishes and tangled pipes sat wherever they could fit. Cables lay in disarray across the floor. Old and new design sketches were scattered everywhere, some trampled, some pinned, some half-torn. The air was sharp with the bite of air freshener, as if someone had tried—and failed—to murder the scent of chemicals.
But Darren and Stussy barely registered any of it.
Their eyes locked on the figure standing at the far end of the room.
Short, sparse black hair. A stained shirt under a wool cardigan. Black dress pants.
If you ignored everything else, he might have looked like an ordinary old man.
But no one could ignore everything else.
His tongue was disturbingly long, lolling out of his mouth and hanging all the way down to his abdomen.
And though his body wasn't particularly tall, his head was grotesquely oversized—almost deformed. His bald forehead, paired with that thin fringe of hair, made his skull look like a huge, misshapen lightbulb.
That swollen, unnatural brain turned what should have been a man barely five feet tall into someone who seemed to loom over three meters.
Based on appearance alone, no one would ever guess this distorted old man was the greatest scientific genius alive.
But Darren recognized him at a glance.
There was no doubt.
This was Vegapunk.
And setting aside that forehead that looked like a monkey's ass, the resemblance was uncanny—down to the very bones.
Einstein.
Not just similar. Practically identical to the Einstein from Darren's old Earth textbooks.
"Dr. Vegapunk!"
Before Darren could greet him, Stussy had already shouted, unable to contain herself.
Vegapunk's gaze shifted to her. He adjusted his glasses and smiled faintly.
"You've grown so much these past few years, little Stussy."
He sighed, and the smile softened. "I'm terribly sorry. There was an accident at the Punk Hazard institute, and I never had the chance to notify you."
Stussy's eyes glistened. She shook her head quickly. "As long as you're alright, Doctor, that's all that matters."
Vegapunk chuckled, then turned his gaze to Darren.
"Ah—so you must be Rogers Darren. I've heard so much about you." He extended his hand. "Little Stussy must have caused you a great deal of trouble. I apologize on her behalf."
Stussy froze, color immediately rushing into her face.
A strange look flickered across Darren's expression.
Why does that sound like I'm meeting her family? I'm not here to greet the parents, am I?
Ignoring Borsalino—who had already taken a seat nearby, cheek propped on his hand as he watched with open curiosity—Darren stepped forward with a warm smile and clasped Vegapunk's hand.
"The honor is mine, Dr. Vegapunk. I've admired your work for a long time."
Then he continued, still smiling, "In my life, I've met many remarkable scientists."
"Vinsmoke Judge, the former overlord of North Blue and king of Germa 66. Queen of the Beasts Pirates—the one they call 'Plague.'"
"Judge's genetic modification is astonishing, and Queen's biological augmentation work is… thorough, in its own way."
"But only after seeing Egghead today have I truly understood what it means to be the world's greatest scientist."
To be continued...