"Strictly speaking, our cooperation hasn't exactly been close,"
Michael stood beside Vegapunk, curiously observing the most technologically advanced place in the world of pirates.
"All these years, the World Government must have given you plenty of support and resources for your research, right?"
"Hmm, very much so... in fact, I could even say that all of my current studies are built entirely upon the resources provided by the World Government."
Vegapunk didn't try to hide anything and spoke honestly.
"Then why are you still willing to cooperate with someone you're meeting for the first time today, instead of devoting yourself wholeheartedly to the World Government?"
Michael looked at Vegapunk with genuine curiosity.
"At least for you, the World Government hasn't exactly treated you poorly, has it?"
"What about you?" Vegapunk countered.
"You became the Navy's Chief Inspector at such a young age. In the future, becoming an Admiral, a Fleet Admiral, or even the Supreme Commander of the entire military isn't out of the question... so why do you still run the Revolutionary Army?"
"Maybe because I... don't like being a lackey?"
"Michael, your answer is the same as mine."
Vegapunk clasped his hands behind his back, expression calm.
"No one wants to be a lackey—whether they're a Marine or a scientist."
The two walked ahead, while Jack and Yamato trailed behind, gawking left and right like villagers entering a grand palace for the first time.
"Hey! Who are you two!? Don't you know outsiders aren't allowed in here!?"
A high-pitched female voice rang out, followed by a barrage of bubbles.
Before Jack and Yamato could react, the bubbles had already hit their bodies—
"What the hell is this!?"
"W-Wait... my body's gone weak..."
The two tried to fight back, only to find their strength draining away as their bodies collapsed helplessly.
This sensation... it was exactly like touching seawater.
"Hmph! As expected, Devil Fruit users!"
A young woman with short blonde hair and pink eyes appeared before them, carrying a strangely shaped gun over her shoulder.
She wore black gloves, a pink skintight bodysuit under a purple coat, and DOM boots on her feet.
Printed on the left side of her chest was "PUNK02."
She was one of Vegapunk's six satellites—Lilith, the embodiment of "Evil."
And the strange gun in her hand that fired bubbles was one of Vegapunk's inventions.
The bubbles were made using the energy of the sea, allowing them to effectively suppress Devil Fruit users.
If it weren't for Jack and Yamato's exceptional physical strength, the bubbles—though not perfectly identical to seawater—would have completely neutralized them. As it was, they were weakened but not entirely helpless.
"Hehehe! Lilith! You're getting way too excited!"
Crocodile stepped forward, blocking her aim.
"They're with us."
"With you? The World Government? Or the Marines?"
Suspicion filled Lilith's eyes.
"I've never seen them before... and they're not wearing Marine uniforms either."
"They're with the SWORD Secret Special Force," Stella said calmly.
"I'll give you an explanation later... and besides, Vegapunk is aware of their arrival."
"Huh? Vegapunk knows?"
Lilith clicked her tongue.
"Tch, what a shame. I thought I could earn some extra research funding."
"You've already received plenty of funding—from the World Government, the Marines, and even the SWORD Secret Special Force."
"Research funds are something you can never have too much of."
Lilith shrugged and dropped the topic.
Crocodile used his Sand-Sand Fruit power to absorb the bubbles clinging to the two.
Jack and Yamato immediately felt the pressure vanish from their bodies and stood up, glaring at Lilith in irritation.
"Tch, Yamato, should we take her out?"
"I think we should..."
"Enough, both of you."
Stella shot them a glance.
"Have you two gotten too wild after spending so much time with Michael and the Revolutionary Army?"
At Stella's words, Jack and Yamato—though visibly annoyed—restrained themselves.
Even though Rosinante was the current commander of the SWORD Secret Special Force, Stella's authority within Michael's faction was absolute.
Even headstrong types like Jack and Yamato knew better than to cross her.
"Wait, hold up—Revolutionary Army?"
Lilith frowned.
"Uh, not that I really care who you are... but Stella, Crocodile—you're Marines, aren't you? Since when do Marines hang out with the Revolutionary Army?"
Before Crocodile could answer, Lilith's expression suddenly shifted to an "Aha, I get it now" look.
"Let's see... the former commander of the SWORD Secret Special Force was Chief Inspector Michael, right? And five years ago, he was expelled from the Marines because he was discovered to be the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army..."
Lilith counted on her fingers, muttering to herself.
"So you guys used to be part of SWORD, but now you're with the Revolutionaries... which means you're Michael's people. So the person Vegapunk's meeting today... is actually Michael!?"
Crocodile gave her a surprised look, though Stella didn't seem the least bit shocked.
"Crocodile, she might act reckless and combative most of the time... but deep down, she's still a Vegapunk—smart as ever."
"Quick, quick! I want to see that guy who keeps sending us gold for no reason!"
Lilith ran forward, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Her ability to switch moods was truly second to none.
"Ahahaha, my apologies everyone... Lilith's always had an unusually strong interest in Michael,"
Vegapunk's No.1 satellite—Shaka, the embodiment of "Good"—walked over.
"After all, she suffers from what I call 'Research Fund Deficiency Syndrome.'"
"What kind of weird illness is that!?"
Jack and Yamato both complained at once.
"Ahahaha, don't mind it, don't mind it," Shaka chuckled softly.
"But since Michael-sama is here... the main body should finally be able to tackle those last few difficulties. Perfect timing indeed."
...
"Are all six of your satellites this noisy?"
Michael asked, hearing the chatter behind him.
"In a sense, isn't that what makes it lively?"
Vegapunk smiled as he walked.
"Hmm... we're almost there!"
"Almost there?"
"Our first project for today..."
Vegapunk turned to look at Michael.
"The Seraphim—modeled after you."
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