"God... A true... God!"
The voice that trembled in the air no longer held the imperious, raspy arrogance that had once commanded the skies of the White Sea. Instead, it was filled with a terrifying mixture of ecstasy and fear, like a pilgrim who had wandered the scorching desert for decades only to find an oasis at the moment of death. Enel, the man who had once struck fear into the hearts of Skypieans as their deity, prostrated himself completely at Kyle's feet. His body, usually composed of intangible lightning, shook violently against the cold ground.
"I was so blind! How could I have been so presumptuous before a true divinity?" Enel cried out, his forehead pressed against the earth. "I am nothing but a fraud who stole the title of God! To think I dared to challenge your supreme majesty with my insignificant sparks!"
Enel lifted his head. Tears streamed freely down his face, yet his expression was twisted into a smile of fanatical relief. It was the look of a man who had found his purpose.
"Please, Great One, unleash your divine punishment upon me! Turn this sinner to ash with your superior power! To perish by the hand of a true God is the only honor left for a wretch like me!"
As he screamed these pleas, Enel began to frantically bash his forehead against the floor. Dull, heavy thuds echoed through the room. It seemed as though this act of self-mutilation was the only way he could physically express the overwhelming surge of devotion crashing through his heart.
"..."
Kyle stood frozen, his mind grinding to a complete halt. Beside him, the "Golden Emperor" Gild Tesoro looked as if his jaw was about to unhinge and hit the floor. Even the legendary shipwright, Uncle Tom, paused with his glass of wine halfway to his mouth, completely forgetting to drink.
The three of them stared in stunned silence at the weeping, laughing, kowtowing figure of the former ruler of Skypiea. They were utterly at a loss.
Inside Kyle's mind, a storm of confusion was raging. What on earth is happening? he thought, panicking slightly. The script wasn't supposed to go like this!
In the brutal world of pirates and Marines, the logic of defeat was usually simple. When you defeat a Tier 2 threat like a Supernova or a powerful Logia user, they are supposed to be terrified. They should be begging for mercy, crying out, "I was wrong, please don't kill me!" Then, Kyle, exercising the benevolence of a leader, would say, "Fine, I will spare your life, provided you become my personal generator."
That was the plan. So, how did Enel turn into a religious fanatic? And why was he acting like a masochist who actively wanted to be executed?
I just wanted you to provide electricity for the ship! Kyle screamed internally, his temples throbbing with a sudden headache. I have no intention of starting a cult or gathering worshipers!
Kyle felt his mouth twitch. He honestly would have preferred a physical brawl with the Five Elders of the World Government over dealing with this bizarre psychological breakdown.
"Uh... you need to stand up first," Kyle said, trying to find the right words to de-escalate the situation.
"No! The sinner Enel has no right to stand until he has received the forgiveness of the True God!" Enel refused flatly, slamming his head against the ground with even more force.
Kyle took a deep breath, feeling his blood pressure rising to dangerous levels. He glanced sideways at Tesoro, who was still petrified by the display. Kyle's eyes sent a clear signal: You caused this mess by bringing him here; you fix it!
Tesoro jolted, snapping out of his daze. He looked at Enel with a face full of disbelief. He vividly remembered Enel's arrogance on the Sky Island—the way he looked down on everyone as "mortal trash." How had one glare from Lord Kyle turned him into this?
Still, Tesoro knew he had to act. He stepped forward bravely and cleared his throat. "Ahem. Enel, listen here. Lord Kyle ordered you to stand up, so stand up. Stop making a fool of yourself."
Enel's head snapped up instantly. He looked at Tesoro with a gaze that shifted from fanatical devotion to a mix of contempt, pity, and supreme superiority.
"Silence, mortal! What could you possibly understand?" Enel rebuked him venomously. "An ignorant creature like you, who cannot even comprehend the brilliance of God, has no right to dictate my faith! You only defile this sacred space with your filthy, vulgar gold!"
Tesoro blinked, completely taken aback. "???"
What did I do? Tesoro thought, offended. I was trying to help you, you lunatic, and now you're attacking me personally?
Seeing that his two subordinates were about to start a shouting match, Kyle finally lost the last shred of his patience.
"Shut up!"
Kyle's low roar instantly silenced the room. Enel froze and immediately buried his head back into the ground, trembling even more violently than before. He looked like a terrified pet waiting for its master to strike.
Kyle rubbed his aching forehead. He felt a profound sense of exhaustion. Why were none of his subordinates normal? He sighed, deciding to cut straight to the point to end this farce.
"Alright, listen to me. I will not punish you. I forgive you. Now, stand up."
At these words, a jolt went through Enel's body. He slowly raised his head, his eyes swimming with tears of disbelief. "Re... Really? Great Lord God, are you... are you truly willing to forgive a false idol like me? Is such mercy even possible?"
"Yes, really," Kyle said, his face expressionless. "But my patience is limited. I am going to count to three."
"Yes! Yes! I will rise immediately!"
Enel scrambled to his feet with desperate speed. He stood respectfully, hands at his sides and head bowed low, not daring to make direct eye contact with Kyle. His obedient posture was a stark, jarring contrast to the arrogant posture he had held only an hour ago.
"From today onward," Kyle said, pointing a finger at him, "you will live here. Your only task is to cooperate with Uncle Tom and provide power for the Ark. If you do your job well, you will be rewarded. If you do poorly..."
Kyle let his voice trail off, his eyes growing cold.
"Yes! Lord God! Your will is my entire existence!" Enel straightened his chest and shouted his response, his face beaming with the supreme honor of serving a higher power. "I will dedicate every volt of my lightning to your cause! I will make your vessel a divine light that cuts through the darkness and judges all the evil in this world!"
Kyle stared at him blankly. "..."
Forget it, Kyle thought, giving up. I'm too tired to correct him.
He waved his hand weakly toward the shipwright. "Uncle Tom, this guy is yours. Use him however you please. If he breaks, don't worry about it; that's on me."
With that, Kyle turned and walked away, desperate to escape Enel's intense, worshipful gaze. Tesoro gave Uncle Tom a sympathetic look before quickly hurrying after Kyle.
At the door of the cell, only Tom and Enel remained, staring at one another.
Tom looked at this new "generator." Just moments ago, this man had been shouting for a fight, and now he was a loyal believer. Tom scratched his head, letting out a hearty laugh. "Tahahaha! The world is getting harder to understand every day. But young people certainly know how to keep things interesting!"
Enel, however, turned to Tom with the arrogance befitting a self-proclaimed "Apostle of God."
"Hey, old man. You are the shipwright the Lord God mentioned, correct?" Enel demanded. "Take me to see the Lord God's vessel immediately! I can feel it calling out for my lightning!"
A few days later, the atmosphere in Kyle's villa had changed significantly.
Enel had become a permanent, strange fixture in the household. He followed Kyle around like a shadow all day long, incessantly addressing him as "Lord God." The look in his eyes was so fanatical it was genuinely unsettling. Even Karon, a loyal subordinate, felt inferior watching Enel's level of devotion.
The other residents of the villa found Enel's behavior deeply uncomfortable.
Dracule Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman, chose to simply ignore the lightning man, sipping his wine in stoic silence. Sir Crocodile, a former Warlord accustomed to running criminal organizations, wore a perpetual expression that screamed, What is wrong with this idiot?
Nico Robin, on the other hand, found the situation fascinating. She had even started carrying a small notebook to document Enel's ravings, titling her observations "Research on the Formation and Development of New Religions."
The most irritating part for everyone else was that Enel only acted humble in front of Kyle. To everyone else, he maintained his old, insufferable arrogance. In his mind, there was a strict hierarchy: Kyle was the Supreme God, Enel was the First Apostle, and everyone else was just a mortal lucky enough to breathe the same air.
One afternoon, Enel found Tesoro in the garden, where the Golden Emperor was enjoying tea with Stella.
"Hey, you. The shiny gold one." Enel crossed his arms, tilting his chin up as he pointed at Tesoro.
Tesoro didn't even lift an eyelid. He remained focused on his task, carefully dropping sugar cubes into Stella's cup of black tea with elegant precision.
"Spit it out," Tesoro said coldly.
"How dare you be so rude to a Divine Envoy!" Enel snapped, though he held back his lightning out of fear of angering Kyle. "I came to you because there is an urgent matter concerning the majesty of the Lord God!"
"Speak."
Enel cleared his throat and struck a dramatic, sacred pose. "The Lord God has descended to this land, making it the new Divine Kingdom! But look around you. This place is crude and plain. How can such a simple environment possibly display the Lord God's boundless glory?"
Enel's voice rose with excitement. "Therefore, I have made a decision! I will sculpt a massive statue of pure gold for the Lord God! It will be a monument worthy of His status, so that the entire world can behold His glory!"
He extended an expectant hand toward Tesoro.
"Hand over all your ill-gotten gains! Give me all of that filthy gold you hoard! It shall serve as the foundation for the divine statue. Consider this your only chance to wash away your sins and bask in the Lord God's grace!"
Tesoro's hand paused in mid-air. The sugar cube dropped into the tea with a soft plink.
He slowly looked up at Enel, a benevolent, polite smile spreading across his face.
"Scram."
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