Beneath the massive steel dome, an unprecedented mechanical giant hovered silently inside the drydock.
Its shape resembled a colossal deep-sea whale, forged entirely from a dark gray alloy. Smooth, seamless plating wrapped around its streamlined body, cold and magnificent.
This was the core of the Navy's Seabed Recovery Program, the first prototype personally engineered by Vegapunk: Deep Salvage Unit No. 1.
On each side of the submersible, a pair of enormous mechanical arms sat folded against the hull like the claws of some slumbering sea beast. Every joint shimmered with metallic luster, powerful enough to tear apart century-old steel wreckage with ease.
At the bow, a reinforced spherical glass viewport extended forward, connected to a complex sonar detection system.
Something like this, more or less.
"Old Vegapunk, it looks like this detection system still isn't quite refined enough."
Kizaru leaned lazily against the control console, pointing at the flickering interference signals on the screen.
"You are correct, Borsalino."
Vegapunk scratched his head. "The sonar system is still incomplete. It barely functions at a usable level."
Then his tone shifted. "But as long as the funding continues, give me more time and I will complete the Money Eye."
"At that point, not a single Berry in the deep sea will escape its detection."
"Oh my, how impressive."
Kizaru's gaze drifted toward the enormous hull.
There, a freshly painted Navy seagull insignia gleamed brightly.
This thing was tied directly to his five-percent commission.
He could not afford for anything to go wrong.
"Then, let us begin."
Vegapunk stepped to the primary controls, his expression turning razor-focused.
"Deep Salvage Unit No. 1, prepare to dive."
"Flood valves open, dock gates released."
With a thunderous rumble, seawater surged into the dock.
The metal leviathan gradually submerged, descending beneath the surface. Wrapped in clouds of rising bubbles, it silently slipped into the abyss.
In the control room, enormous screens displayed the live feed transmitted from the submarine.
Light faded quickly. Strange deep-sea creatures flickered past the viewports like drifting shadows.
Depth: three thousand meters… five thousand meters… eight thousand meters…
"Warning! Warning!"
Suddenly, a massive red signal point appeared on the radar, rushing straight toward the submarine at terrifying speed.
"An extra-large Sea King!"
"Its target is the submarine!"
Harsh alarms blared throughout the control room.
"Oh dear, what a troublesome situation."
Kizaru watched the rapidly approaching signal and pursed his lips.
Before his sentence finished, his body turned to golden light and vanished.
The enormous Sea King, large enough to rival an island, opened its colossal jaws, ready to crush the intrusive metal intruder that disturbed its slumber.
A flash of golden light appeared above its head without warning.
The light condensed into a slender figure.
"An extra-large Sea King."
"How terrifying."
"But if you damage the prototype..."
Kizaru's eyes narrowed, his lenses reflecting a gleam of danger.
"I would be very upset."
Countless radiant beams exploded behind him.
"Yasakani no Magatama!"
A storm of golden light bullets tore through the dark waters like a meteor shower.
They punched effortlessly through the Sea King's iron-tough hide, leaving gaping holes across its titanic body.
The monster could not even scream before it was shredded into fragments, dissolving into nothing within the golden glare.
In the control room, the alarms stopped abruptly.
Kizaru reappeared exactly where he had been, as if he had never left.
"Problem solved. Continue, Vegapunk."
Vegapunk took a long breath and refocused on the controls.
So this was Borsalino going all out...
"Continue descent."
"Target: the ten-thousand-meter trench, the Lost Wreckage Zone."
The submarine adjusted and pushed deeper.
Soon, the screens displayed a vast seabed plain littered with ancient shipwrecks.
This was a graveyard of time, a monument to forgotten history.
"Activate mechanical arms."
"Target: three-masted wreck at three o'clock."
The giant arms extended, grasping the decayed vessel with precision and lowering it into the open cargo hold beneath the submersible.
"Excellent. Mission accomplished. Begin ascent."
Deep Salvage Unit No. 1 returned smoothly to dock.
The mechanical arms set the massive wreck onto the central platform.
Dozens of Navy soldiers rushed forward, hauling out rotted chests from the collapsed hull.
The chests were pried open.
Most treasure had long decayed, yet several crates of intact gold coins remained, glittering beautifully.
Kizaru looked at the gold, and the smile on his face brightened.
Not much, but it was only one ship.
His five percent was guaranteed.
He turned and saw that Vegapunk had already sprinted back to the lab with piles of data, eager to begin improvements.
Kizaru pulled out a Den Den Mushi and dialed.
"Buru buru... kacha."
"Fleet Admiral, it is me, Borsalino."
Kizaru's voice was unmistakably pleased. "The submarine's first descent was a success."
Sengoku paused for a moment.
"Good."
"How soon until the first full recovery operation?"
"Second test in three days."
"Final test in one week."
"If all goes smoothly, mass production begins immediately, and the prototype can enter use as well."
"The expected time for the first official salvage... one month."
"Very well. Keep a close watch, Borsalino."
"Do not worry, Fleet Admiral. For the future of the Navy, I won't take a single step away."
…
Meanwhile, in the New World, aboard the Moby Dick.
The atmosphere on deck was suffocating.
The joyful laughter of the past had vanished, replaced by a silence like death.
Ace stared at Whitebeard, eyes bloodshot.
"Teach killed Thatch."
"He violated the only iron rule of our ship."
"As his commander, I must bring him back myself and make him kneel before Thatch's grave to atone."
"Gurararara… go."
Whitebeard waved his hand.
"My son will not lose."
Ace dropped to his knees and bowed his head heavily against the deck.
"Wait for my return, Pops."
The next moment, he stood and leapt aboard his small motor-powered vessel.
Orange flames burst from the stern.
"Teach betrayed us. He cannot stay in the New World."
"He can only be headed… for Paradise."
The small vessel shot forward like a falling star, racing toward the first half of the Grand Line.