Teach drifted through the bazaar with the relaxed swagger of a man who had already decided the world would surprise him today. And sure enough...
"Oh? Now this is interesting."
His gaze locked onto a small, quiet stall tucked off to the side. No crowd. No noise. Not even a curious glance from passing shoppers. The stall owner, a young man in a black cloak, square glasses, and the beginnings of a beard, sat behind an array of unfamiliar contraptions.
One object in particular drew Teach in; a compact silver pistol. Its sleek design was far beyond the usual flintlock or percussion junk that dominated the seas. Even before he touched it, his Observation Haki told him everything he needed, three shots in rapid succession, tight spread, clean firing mechanism. Not mass-producible yet, and clearly expensive to build, but impressive all the same.
The world's technology was uneven at best. Most nations still relied on crude firearms, yet islands like Karakuri and the Future Kingdom operated decades ahead. This fellow's creations sat somewhere between those extremes mechanical dogs that walked, gizmos humming with energy, and the pistol that had caught Teach's eye.
But the stallkeeper himself was even more interesting.
Teach had already noticed the man's right hand hidden under the cloak, incomplete in form yet somehow replaced by a mechanical limb that moved like living flesh. Advanced work. Dangerous work.
And still… no customers?
Teach's haki spread outward.
Everyone around was ignoring this stall, not out of disinterest, but because they literally couldn't perceive it. A forced blind spot. And the culprits were close.
High above, inside a loft overlooking the street, two men in black suits were stationed at the window.
"What's happening? Phantom Fox, why can he see the booth? Your ability slipping?" one muttered.
"That's impossible. Shut up, Mole, I'll try again. My ability doesn't just fail." Phantom Fox's voice shook with disbelief as he focused.
Teach stepped closer to the booth, his shadow falling over the stallkeeper. The young man looked up, startled, as if he'd long given up expecting a real customer.
"You're a scientist, right?" Teach asked. "Everything on this table.. your handiwork?"
The man nodded. His voice was low and rough. "Yes."
"Good. I'm a pirate, and I'd like you to join my crew." Teach grinned. "And in return, I'll deal with the two agents spying on you. Looks like their ability makes people overlook your presence."
Otto froze. Then his face twisted with anger. "So they're still on me… like ghosts." His right arm trembled faintly, memory or pain or both.
He swallowed once. "Help me get rid of them first." His tone carried resignation, pride, and a test. He had no idea who Teach was, nor what Teach could do. He needed proof.
Teach's grin widened. "No problem."
Otto slid a slim mechanical monocle over his left eye. With a quick flick of his fingers, his entire stall collapsed neatly into a compact case—three seconds flat. When he glanced up again...
Teach was gone.
His monocle pinged. Teach had reappeared inside the loft a hundred meters away.
"What speed is that…?" Otto whispered.
Up above, panic broke out.
"No...my ability isn't working," Phantom Fox gasped. "Why isn't it working!?"
Mole stared at the figure materializing inside the room. His eyes widened. "That's Marshall D. Teach… Captain of the Nightfall Pirates."
Phantom Fox's skin went cold. Teach turned toward them and smiled, a calm, polite expression that felt like death itself.
"Run!" Mole hissed. "We can't fight him!"
They were Devil Fruit users, yes, but weak ones. Phantom Fox specialized in erasing presence; Mole in burrowing away. Together they'd escaped countless threats.
But not this one.
Teach crossed the room in an instant. His hands closed around their throats with casual certainty.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice gentle. "Someone wants you dead. Close your eyes."
A sharp twist. Two crisp snaps. Silence.
Otto saw everything through the monocle, saw the walls as if they weren't there, saw his pursuers die like ants. Mole hadn't even managed to shift into his digging form. Phantom Fox's trick had meant nothing.
Teach tossed their bodies into the sea, letting the fish handle cleanup, and returned as though he'd gone to fetch bread.
When he stepped into Otto's workshop, a disguised weapon shop also run by Otto, the scientist finally exhaled.
"You know who was watching me?" Otto asked.
"World Government," Teach replied simply.
Otto blinked. Teach's calm acknowledgement surprised him. "And you still want me to join you, knowing that?"
Teach shrugged. "If the World Government is chasing you, you're valuable. That's exactly why I want you."
Otto was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed. He'd run for years, from Grand Line to West Blue. He thought he'd finally found a quiet corner to research in peace. But the Government had buried him under invisibility, killing his sales and starving his funds. Now, with two agents dead, stronger hunters would eventually come.
Joining a powerful pirate crew suddenly didn't sound like such a bad idea.
"My name is Gunther Otto," he said at last. "Son of Gunther Octavius."
Teach's brows lifted.
Otto continued. "My father worked alongside Vegapunk, one of the few minds comparable to his. They researched the blueprint of life together."
Teach listened intently.
"When their project was complete, Vegapunk was taken. The others fled, Judge succeeded, some were captured, many died." Otto's voice cracked. "My father… was one of the unlucky ones."
He took a shaky breath.
"I escaped with an important segment of the blueprint of life. That's why they still hunt me."
Teach nodded, unsurprised.
Otto lifted his mechanical right arm. From the elbow down, it was fully mechanical, articulated fingers, concealed weapons, joints that moved with uncanny grace.
"This," Otto said softly, "is Mechanical Life Technology. My fusion of engineering and the blueprint of life. It behaves like living tissue. If I had funds and materials, I could build far better versions."
Teach's mouth twitched. What Otto called "low-spec" looked advanced enough to terrify the seas.
Teach reached for a cigar he didn't light. "You'll get your funds. One billion Berries to start. Three hundred million a year for research. More if results impress me."
Otto's eyes lit up like twin suns.
"I can make anyone whole again," he said immediately. "Missing arms, legs, everything. The sea is full of warriors who lost their future to injuries. I can change that."
Teach leaned forward, an idea igniting behind his eyes.
"Otto… Mechanical Life can attach to any part of the body, right?"
Otto blinked. "Technically yes, but it gets complicated. Harder to control. Arms and legs are simple. Anything else is-"
Teach grabbed a pen and started sketching on the table. Four long articulated limbs emerging from a person's back, flexible, powerful, claw-tipped.
Otto stared. His jaw slowly dropped.
"This... this is genius!" he sputtered. "A perfect replacement for limbs… but more than that. Extra reach, strength, precision. If connected directly to the spine, Captain, I didn't expect you to be brilliant!"
Teach smirked. "I have my moments."
Otto was already pacing, muttering excitedly about materials, nerve interfaces, alignment protocols. Teach was thinking bigger, an entire crew of ordinary sailors elevated by mechanical arms, their limits rewritten.
His officers wouldn't need such enhancements. But regular crew? This could make them monsters.
With Phantom Fox and Mole gone, the Government would need time to realize Otto was missing. Until then, Otto would hide aboard Teach's ship and work in peace.
He would grow stronger, yes, but without a Devil Fruit his potential hit a ceiling. Teach was already considering what fruit to hunt for him.
One step at a time. For now, he had found his scientist.
And the seas would feel the consequences soon enough.