One Piece: The Dragon All-Star - 196

Chapter 196: Seraphim! Operation Save Private Vegapunk Begins!

Yes, the ten massive figures standing before them bore the unmistakable features of Edward Weevil, the current Warlord of the Sea, who calls himself "Whitebeard's son."

"Admittedly, Edward Weevil has significant intellectual deficiencies," Shaka said, reading the doubt in their eyes with perfect calm.

"However, in terms of pure physical power, Edward Weevil is without question at the peak among the Warlords. That is precisely why the Doctor chose him as the base template."

Even better, low intelligence was a flaw for the growth-oriented Seraphim, but for Pacifistas it was a massive advantage.

From the start, Pacifistas were designed to be war machines with absolute obedience and flawless execution.

They only needed to follow orders perfectly. They did not need, and should not have, any extra thoughts.

"Now, allow me to formally introduce the PX series Pacifistas," Shaka said.

He turned slightly toward the ten towering figures, addressing the Marine officers.

"They will be a critical force for the Marines to counter major threats on the seas in the future."

"The Pacifistas are combat robots modeled after Edward Weevil, equipped with Admiral Kizaru's laser abilities, with no autonomous consciousness."

Tokikake stroked his chin, looking at the ten clearly expensive giants.

“These things look pricey. How much does one cost to build?”

Shaka's answer was casual.

"Not counting the initial R&D investment, purely in terms of manufacturing cost, each Pacifista is equivalent to one standard Marine large-scale warship."

"One large warship? That is it?" a Marine vice admiral nearby gasped, his voice cracking.

As military personnel, he understood exactly what a capital warship cost.

How many warships did the Marines commission each year?

"Rest assured," Shaka said, his tone still calm but radiating confidence.

"The strategic value they bring far exceeds their cost. Seeing is believing."

Instead of more verbal explanations, he led the group to the observation area at the edge of the testing ground.

Then he turned to one of the Pacifistas and issued a concise command.

"PX-1. Targets A-7 through A-10. Demonstrate attack mode. Intensity level: standard annihilation."

"Command confirmed."

The designated Pacifista's eyes flashed red as it emitted a flat electronic voice.

Its massive body turned toward the target zone with agility that did not match its size, movements smooth and precise, with no clumsiness at all.

The next second, the shocking demonstration began.

PX-1 raised its thick arm, and the armor plates on its palm slid open, revealing the complex energy-gathering device inside.

Blinding golden light gathered rapidly, accompanied by a high-frequency hum of charging energy.

Even from a distance, everyone could feel the surge of raw power building up.

Whoosh.

A dazzling golden laser beam lanced out, striking a heavy target a thousand meters away made of simulated warship armor material with perfect accuracy.

Boom.

A massive explosion echoed.

When the smoke cleared, a huge hole gaped in the target.

It was not over.

PX-1's palms flashed continuously, pouring out a storm of lasers like a downpour.

In moments, several targets in the testing zone were riddled with holes.

Then PX-1 demonstrated its terrifying close-combat abilities.

Its huge body surged forward, one fist lashing out in a simple, direct motion, carrying enough force to shatter mountains.

An intact warship armor target crumpled inward, twisted, and deformed under the blow.

Then it followed with a side kick, sending another heavy target flying like a toy to crash into the far metal wall with a dull roar.

The entire demonstration lasted barely two minutes.

When the red glow in PX-1's eyes faded and it came to a halt, returning to silence, the testing zone that had been full of solid targets was nearly "plowed" clean, leaving only devastation.

The observation area fell into dead silence.

Gion's red lips parted slightly, the ruins reflected in her beautiful eyes, full of disbelief.

It was not that the Pacifista's strength shocked her. Based on its current performance, an elite vice admiral from headquarters could do the same, or even better.

But the problem was, this was a robot.

A robot that could be mass-produced on an assembly line.

How many vice admirals like that did the Marines have?

One large warship?

Compared to the strategic power this humanoid weapon could bring, enough to change the shape of a local battlefield, not to mention the Marine casualties it could prevent...

Shaka was right.

This was... incredibly worth it.

Gion, with her strength, could still maintain relatively calm analysis, but the headquarters vice admirals behind her were already starting to sweat.

The instant firepower density, accuracy, and close-combat destructive power this single Pacifista demonstrated could, in a real naval battle, probably deliver a fatal blow to a standard Marine warship in an extremely short time, or even... annihilate it entirely.

With robots like these, what purpose did they serve anymore?

They left for one mission and came back to find their jobs on the verge of collapse?

Kuzan's normally half-lidded eyes opened a bit wider as he took in his colleagues' shock and the faint unease beneath it.

He spoke slowly, deliberately.

"The Pacifistas' power is certainly impressive. However, no matter how powerful a force is, without the mind and will to wield it, it is just a pile of expensive metal."

"Correct," Shaka said, nodding openly.

"At this stage, Pacifistas can only accept preset or brief tactical instructions. Complex battlefield judgments, situational analysis, and the formulation and adjustment of strategic objectives still depend on a commander's experience and wisdom."

The Marine vice admirals' tense shoulders relaxed imperceptibly.

Of course. How could cold machines completely replace human officers who had been tested by blood and fire?

However, that breath of relief had barely left their lungs when—

"Therefore, to compensate for the Pacifistas' lack of autonomy and adaptability to complex environments, while also pursuing more comprehensive and powerful individual combat strength," Shaka said calmly, "the Doctor has simultaneously led the development of another project: the Seraphim Project."

He raised his voice slightly.

"Come out, Seraphim."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps echoed from the corridor again, but this time the sound was completely different.

The steps were no longer uniform like drumbeats, but carried subtle differences. Some were light, some dragged slightly, some had steady spacing, and others bounced with a bit of randomness.

That "unevenness" gave off an unsettling sense of life.

Kuzan, catching that detail, grew more serious, his lazy posture sharpening.

Soon, seven "children" emerged from the shadows one after another.

They varied in size, each with distinct height and build, their faces all different.

But they all had snow-white hair, star-shaped pupils, black wings on their backs, flames burning behind their heads, and a container of unknown liquid bubbling green gas fixed to their right arms.

Despite their childish features and soft, rounded lines typical of kids, every Marine officer present recognized the familiar outlines almost instantly.

"Dracule Mihawk, Jinbe, Edward Weevil, Boa Hancock, Gecko Moria, Kuma, Donquixote Doflamingo?!"

Before them stood child versions of the Warlords of the Sea.

Though their auras were nothing like the real people, the signature facial features were enough to send chills down the spine of anyone familiar with these great pirates.

"That is correct," Shaka said, his voice still steady, as if introducing an ordinary research result.

"They are artificial humans created using the Lineage Factor blueprints of the Warlords of the Sea, combined with the bloodline of the Lunarian race."

While the Marine officers reeled from the Seraphim's appearance, Punk Hazard welcomed another group of uninvited guests.

"Kai, how do we get in?" Kuma asked.

He looked at the heavily fortified stronghold before them, covered in surveillance and patrolling guards, a slight frown on his usually calm face.

With their strength, forcing their way through would be easy.

But their goal was not destruction. It was rescue. So brute force was not the best approach.

Kai's gaze swept over the fortress, a confident smile tugging at his lips.

"We split up."

He turned to Enel.

"You use your ability advantage to infiltrate and find the Doctor. Our top priority is ensuring his safety. Kuma and I will go to another location to retrieve the Doctor's brain."

Vegapunk's brain was something Kai was determined to obtain on this trip.

Without that brain, which stored Vegapunk's lifetime of knowledge and research data, even if they successfully rescued the Doctor himself, his value would drop dramatically.

As for Vegapunk's safety, he could only entrust it to Enel.

Kai thought it over. The risk should be manageable.

With Enel's Observation Haki and speed, even if Kizaru arrived immediately, it would be hard for him to kill Vegapunk right under Enel's nose.

Moreover, given Borsalino's usual unpredictable nature and his habit of "ambiguous justice," whether he would really be willing to kill his longtime friend Vegapunk was still an unknown.

In the original story, he finally acted on Egghead largely because the Five Elders were personally overseeing the situation, leaving him no excuse to stall.

But even under their noses, he had still held back.

He only struck when he could not delay any longer.

"Tch, seriously. Dumping boring guard work on me," Enel grumbled, picking at his ear with clear distaste on his face.

But his body was already honestly transforming into free-flowing electricity and vanishing, leaving behind only a fading complaint.

"Hurry up and finish this. This place is dead boring. Not interesting at all."

Punk Hazard, core laboratory.

Vegapunk, who looked like Einstein with a massive apple-shaped skull and his tongue hanging out, was busy at the console.

Only his usually swift fingers were slower now, carrying a trace of distraction that was hard to detect.

Around him, aside from "Shaka the Righteous," who was outside receiving the Marines, the other five Satellites had gathered here in a rare assembly.

Lilith, representing "evil." Edison, representing "thinking." Pythagoras, representing "wisdom." Atlas, representing "violence." And York, representing "greed."

Most of them were absorbed in their work.

The lab echoed with the hum of instruments, data readouts, and Edison's occasional strange laughter.

Oh, except York.

Huge and round like a ball, with a cute face dotted with freckles, she was constantly stuffing food from the automated cooking machine into her mouth.

Her loud chewing was especially prominent.

After the last piece of delicate cake disappeared into her mouth, she burped contentedly, her eyelids drooping as a shiny snot bubble instantly popped out from her nose.

"Zzz..."

Yes, her main task was not research but handling eating, drinking, bathroom breaks, and sleep for the other Vegapunks.

Besides the six Vegapunks, several white-coated research assistants were also in the lab helping with operations.

And on either side of the heavy alloy door, four elite security personnel in special uniforms stood guard like statues.

Crack!

Without warning, a high-power electrical outlet on one wall of the lab suddenly burst with a cluster of dazzling blue-white sparks.

The electricity did not dissipate immediately. Instead, it coiled and condensed as if alive, instantly sketching out a tall, bare-chested outline with tomoe thunder drums on his back.

Enel's lazy form fully materialized from the lightning.

He looked around the room full of strange contraptions with interest, his gaze finally settling on the old man with the most distinctive features in the crowd.

"Hey, you Vegapunk?" he asked, chin raised arrogantly.

"Intruder!" one of the guards shouted before Vegapunk could answer.

At the same time, his hand shot toward the emergency alarm button at his waist.

Enel did not even look at them properly, simply lifting a finger casually.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Four lightning bullets fired instantly, piercing their bodies.

The powerful current paralyzed every nerve in an instant.

"Urgh!"

Their short grunts of pain were drowned by the hiss of electricity. Four bodies went down smoking in unison, twitching twice before losing consciousness completely.

"Who are you?" one researcher finally asked.

Only now did the researchers in the lab snap out of the lightning-fast change.

Enel clicked his tongue in annoyance and waved his other hand carelessly.

A lightning whip cracked through the air, sweeping across the researchers.

The intense numbness from the high-voltage current left them unable to even cry out. Their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed in waves.

In an instant, the once-busy, orderly core laboratory was left with only the six Vegapunks.

"Now, can you answer my question, old man?" Enel said.

His gaze fell back on the apple-headed elder, one eyebrow raised.

But the response was not fear.

It was Vegapunk's burning stare and a rapid-fire barrage of eager questions.

"That is the Goro Goro no Mi's power, right? Absolutely is! A Logia-type Devil Fruit recognized as having top-tier attack power and speed!"

"Tell me, when you control lightning, what is your subjective experience? Is it absolute control like commanding an extension of your limbs, or do you need some kind of mental guidance to direct the flowing energy?"

"What is the upper limit of voltage you can stably control?"

"And the fine changes in electrical current form—what is the smallest current you can manipulate?"

"And, and..."

The machine-gun questions buried Enel completely.