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The skies were radiant and unbroken, untouched by even a wisp of cloud.
Below, the deep blue sea mirrored the heavens so perfectly it seemed as though time itself had paused. The scene radiated an unspoiled serenity, a fragile mirror that dared one to shatter it.
"Huā Lā La!"
The sound of sails snapping in the wind echoed as a massive battleship sliced through the tranquil waters, leaving a sharp "V"-shaped wake in its path.
A gentle breeze stirred the stillness, rippling the surface of the water, which sparkled like scattered starlight.
But the peace was short-lived.
The wind began to howl, and the once-clear sky darkened with alarming speed. Heavy storm clouds gathered on the horizon, thunder rumbled ominously, and the air seemed to quiver under the brewing tempest.
"Tsk, the damn weather in the New World," Rowen muttered, annoyance lacing his voice.
Reclining lazily on the deck, he clicked his tongue before standing and gesturing with a casual wave. His electromagnetic powers lifted his teacup effortlessly, and he carried it as he strolled indoors.
Before leaving, he called out over his shoulder,
"Get moving, little ones! A serpent storm is brewing—time to prove your worth!"
"Aye, sir!"
The soldiers sprang into action, rolling up sails and securing supplies with precision and discipline.
Rowen could have easily dispersed the storm with his immense power—at his level, the sea was obliged to adapt to him, not the other way around.
But that would defeat the voyage's purpose. More than that, it would coddle the crew, leaving them soft and unprepared. Rowen had no intention of letting them grow complacent.
And truthfully, there was no rush.
Cradling his teacup, Rowen entered the command room and summoned the navigator.
"How much farther to our destination?"
"At our current pace, Admiral, we'll arrive in three to five days," the navigator reported.
"Three to five days, huh? All right. Carry on."
Rowen waved him off with a few encouraging words before wandering back out, his teacup still in hand.
''BuruBuruBuru…''
''Pā jī!''
"Hello? Oh, Gorōsei-sama, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Back in his quarters, Rowen had barely settled into his chair when his Den Den Mushi rang. He picked it up, a smirk tugging at his lips.
The bait had been taken.
"We've heard you've uncovered a lead on Pure Gold. Is it true?"
The long-mustached Gorōsei's tone betrayed a hint of unease.
"Well…" Rowen feigned hesitation, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I assume CP0 has already briefed you? Honestly, it's more of a rumor than a lead—hard to say if it's true or not."
"Understood," the Gorōsei replied, his voice heavy with thought. "But now, listen closely. What I'm about to tell you must remain strictly confidential. Understood?"
"Of course!"
Straightening, Rowen nodded with exaggerated solemnity.
After a pause, the Gorōsei continued.
"The true value of Pure Gold far surpasses common speculation. It's a miraculous substance capable of infinitely slowing growth and development—essentially granting eternal life."
"Eternal life?" Rowen widened his eyes in feigned shock. "Are you serious?"
"There's no need to doubt it. It's true," the Gorōsei confirmed. "Classified records speak of individuals who lived for 500 years thanks to Pure Gold. However…"
"They vanished without a trace. No one knows what became of them."
The long-mustached elder elaborated further, his tone grave.
"That's why Pure Gold is said to hold the value of the entire world. Think of what people would sacrifice for immortality."
Rowen nodded thoughtfully. "It makes sense. So, what are my orders?"
"Vegapunk's experiments have been progressing too slowly. Placing all our hopes on him is not in our best interest."
Instead of answering directly, the Gorōsei shifted the topic to the Celestial Dragons.
Rowen caught the subtext immediately.
Even common people understood the wisdom of not putting all their eggs in one basket. As the world's rulers, the Gorōsei were no exception.
The implication was clear: if they could secure Pure Gold, its unique properties would allow them to slow down the reproduction and spread of the Nether River Virus within the Celestial Dragons themselves, effectively freezing time for them. This would neutralize the virus's threat.
Even if Vegapunk's experiments ultimately failed, the Celestial Dragons' extinction— and the ensuing global chaos— could be averted.
"That's why, Rowen, your mission is of critical importance!"
"We are granting you the highest authority and priority. You must do everything in your power to find it. Understood?!"
Had this been the "Undying Vice Admiral" Rowen, the Gorōsei would never have entrusted him with such sensitive information or this crucial mission.
But as Admiral "Soryu," Rowen's strength and reliability were acknowledged, leaving the Gorōsei with little choice.
"Yes, I will complete this mission!"
Rowen saluted with determination. Shortly after, the Den Den Mushi let out a "Poi" sound and went silent, falling into slumber.
---
Gazing at the now-dormant Den Den Mushi, Rowen quietly pulled out a cigar. Lighting it, he took a deep drag before exhaling a thick plume of smoke.
"Now, where were we? Oh, right. How's your experiment coming along?"
"My deepest apologies, Admiral Soryu (Azure Dragon)! Not a single one of the 300 test subjects survived."
The voice from another Den Den Mushi, marked by a spotted hat, responded in a calm tone:
"It seems the nutrients we provided were insufficient. After being consumed by the cloned organisms, they quickly entered a state of autophagy and ultimately disintegrated into a pool of sludge."
"As expected… What about the Nether River Virus? Any remnants?"
"Initially, some traces clung to the surface and remained intact. However, as autophagy progressed, the virus was also consumed and completely decomposed."
"Understood," Rowen muttered with a nod before issuing further instructions:
"Continue the experiments. This time, reduce the number of samples and concentrate the nutrient supply. But remember, until you are certain that the cloned specimens can be fully controlled, under no circumstances should you create a complete organism."
"Vegapunk is feeling his way through uncharted waters. We'll feel our way through his work— that's enough for now. Got it, Law?"
---
In an underground laboratory aboard the 'Terrifying Three-Masted Ship' in the Florian Triangle, Trafalgar Law stood in a room where the walls were covered with eerie, vein-like patterns.
He nodded solemnly. "Understood!"
Looking at a shattered glass chamber not far away, Law felt a bitter taste in his mouth.
Even if Rowen ordered him to clone a complete specimen now, he wouldn't dare.
These organisms, created from a mere muscle cell, displayed horrifying devouring capabilities. If a fully formed specimen was created and went out of control...
The thought of such a catastrophe made Law shiver involuntarily, with goosebumps rising all over his body.
"I don't know where Vegapunk got the nerve to even study this," Law muttered to himself. "I'm definitely not cut out to be a real scientist."
---
After ending the call, Rowen leaned back on the sofa and meticulously reviewed the contingency plans he'd put in place.
"At this stage of the experiments, it's likely that the Celestial Dragons will end up with the same fate."
Taking another puff from his cigar, Rowen grinned.
"Let's just hope Vegapunk's cloning experiments succeed. Then I'll have an army to reckon with!"
Even though Rowen had warned him and Vegapunk had sworn to destroy the samples, Rowen was confident that Vegapunk would never really give up his research.
It was the scientist's insatiable curiosity for the unknown!
Without this relentless drive, Vegapunk would never have reached his current stature.
"However," Rowen mused, "once the truth of Pure Gold's ineffectiveness is revealed, the Gorōsei (Five Elder Stars) will immediately suspect me. Balancing those scales... I need something to ensure that I remain invincible."
"Ah, that's it!"
A sudden thought hit him.
"Let's see... Tesoro and Law both have tasks to complete, so it will be you, won't it, Fujitora San!"
---
'ACHOO!'
Between the third and fourth routes of the Grand Line, on Century City…
While eating cold noodles in his private quarters, Fujitora suddenly sneezed heavily, a chill running through his entire body.
"A hostile presence!"
Gripping his cane sword tightly, Fujitora cautiously activated his ''Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation Haki)'' to survey his surroundings.
After a few moments, he awkwardly lowered his guard and scratched his head.
"Ah, just a bird, huh?"
Shaking his head with a sigh, he fumbled to lift his bowl of noodles again and resumed eating.
"Hmm? Why does this taste off?"
---
'(End of Chapter)'