Dr.
Vegapunk and Buckin’s analysis had gone completely unheard.
Arthur was sleeping with the blissful, oblivious soundness of a newborn — dead to the world.
“Up close like this, even a man with an ordinary build has quite a lot going for him.” Buckin ran her hands along Arthur’s upper body as he lay on the examination table.
Her gaze locked onto the scabbard at his waist.
She reached out, plucked it into her hand, drew the blade, and held it up to examine it.
“What a gorgeous snowflake pattern on the steel — this must be worth a fortune.
Vegapunk, have you confirmed whether he’s a Devil Fruit user?”
Even unconscious from sheer exhaustion, Arthur’s face still carried the carefree, sun-warmed vitality of a boy in his prime.
“No.
His blood contains no Devil Fruit factors.” Dr.
Vegapunk set down his instruments.
Arthur was definitively not a Devil Fruit user.
“He isn’t?” Buckin’s expression cracked into shock.
Her eyes widened as she stared at the blade in her hand.
“Then…
the ice-cold power that rivals a Devil Fruit — it’s this sword?” Buckin’s eyes filled with naked covetousness.
She looked at the blade as though it were a priceless treasure — then suddenly clutched it to her chest.
“Heh.
Buckin.
Can’t you do something about that greedy streak of yours?
You’re obsessed with money to the point of madness.” Dr.
Vegapunk snapped at her.
Selling something like this?
Unthinkable.
If that sword truly held power over absolute cold, it would be priceless — no market in the world could put a figure on it.
The moment word spread, how many people across the seas would stake their lives to come seize such a treasure?
“Greed is a woman’s nature.
You’re just a passionless nerd who can’t think about anything but science.” Buckin dismissed him with a smirk.
“We’re on completely different wavelengths, Buckin.
Ever since you parted ways with Whitebeard, you’ve been wandering on your own — aren’t you the least bit worried he’ll find out what you’ve been up to and come after you?”
“Ha ha ha!” Buckin laughed at that — rich, unhurried, the laugh of a woman who’d perfected the art of it.
“We’ve already gone our separate ways.
What’s the point of dredging up old history?”
“Linlin, Little Whitebeard, Gloriosa — no matter how close we all were back then, once we split apart, there’s nothing left between us.”
“Linlin is sailing the seas in search of powerful creatures to fuse with herself, trying to bring forth a child who embodies the ultimate bloodline.”
“That bastard Shiki has fully inherited Captain Xebec’s ambition.
He wants to rule the world.”
“As for Whitebeard…
knowing his nature, he’s probably quietly massing his strength somewhere in the shadows.
After he ate that fruit, he vanished without a trace.”
“John…
Silver Axe and Ochoku are dug into Hachinosu, carrying on the pirate life.
The Marines wouldn’t dare set foot on that island to cause trouble.”
She was still a woman of striking presence — though the years had quietly begun to leave their mark on her.
Listening to Buckin reel off those names, Dr.
Vegapunk had now pieced together a rough picture of where the former members of the Rocks Pirates had scattered.
Always trying to claim everything for yourself.
There’s no chance I’ll be making your clone match your looks and personality.” Dr.
Vegapunk assessed her bluntly.
Buckin closed her eyes and replied without a care in the world: “Do whatever you like.
When she grows up, she won’t be me anyway.”
At that moment, Arthur — who had been unconscious for several hours — suddenly pressed a hand to his forehead and slowly sat up on the examination table.
“…Ow.
Where am I?”
The very first thing Arthur did was reach for his left hip.
His hand found nothing but bandages and skin.
The familiar weight of the sword hilt was simply gone.
Buckin, standing right before him, froze.
She clutched the blade to her chest and stared at him, wide-eyed, thinking:
He took that much damage.
Lost that much blood.
And he’s awake in under four hours?
Arthur turned his neck, scanning for his blade — and found Buckin there, heavy makeup and all, hugging his sword tightly against her chest.
Is this woman…
Stussy?
Arthur’s heart gave a single sharp beat.
He studied her carefully and noted the clear differences between the two.
More like an aged version of Stussy — a prototype.
Arthur quickly reached his conclusion: the woman in front of him must be Stussy’s original.
Arthur’s eyes fixed on Buckin.
His expression carried a cold seriousness that would make an ordinary person’s blood run cold.
Before Buckin could open her mouth to explain, Arthur’s hand shot out and seized the scabbard from within her grasp:
“Please give that back.”
“Ah—!” Buckin had no time to react before Arthur forcibly snatched the blade she’d been clinging to.
“My, how rough.
A man like you will never win a woman’s heart.” Buckin immediately shifted into a coquettish act, setting her sights on teasing Arthur.
Her most beguiling expression was completely wasted on him.
All Arthur could see, looking at her, was a preview of what Buckin might look like thirty years from now.
“…I don’t generally hit women.” Arthur stared at her, utterly unmoved, and warned her flatly: “But, Auntie — this is the first time we’ve met.
Don’t act like we’re close.
I’m not your type.”
“A — Auntie?!” The word struck Buckin like a bolt of lightning.
She short-circuited on the spot.
Those two syllables hit her harder than any blow ever had.
She fired back immediately: “Excuse me!
What you have standing before you is a slender, absolutely delightful young lady in the prime of her beauty!”
“How old are you, exactly?” One glance told Arthur that Buckin’s makeup was layered on thick.
Buckin placed both hands on her hips and tossed her golden hair.
“A woman’s age is not something to be shared with just anyone.”
“She’s forty-five.
For someone your age, that makes her an old grandmother.” Dr.
Vegapunk remarked offhandedly, still bent over Arthur’s blood sample.
Those words drove through Buckin like a blade to the chest.
Vegapunk, and blinked.
This man is…
Dr.
Vegapunk!?
“Vegapunk, have you lost your mind?!” Buckin shrieked at him.
The fury on her face brought every line and wrinkle her makeup had been concealing rushing to the surface.
“Why would you broadcast a woman’s age to a child?!”
“I’m fourteen.
Just turned — less than a week ago.
You’re forty-five.
That’s a full thirty-one years between us.” Arthur was considerably more direct with people he had no patience for.
“I genuinely cannot picture you as the ‘young lady’ you’re describing.”
Buckin stood frozen, as if struck by a thunderclap.
Then, as if her legs had simply given out beneath her, she crashed to her knees and began hammering the laboratory floor with her fists in a frenzy:
“Do you have to say things that hurt this much?!
Plenty of men consider me their ideal type — and don’t go believing everything that oversized-head freak tells you!”
Though she’d taken a direct hit, she still forced herself into a girlish pose, watching Arthur’s face for some kind of reaction.
Faced with a woman thirty-one years his senior playing cute, Arthur kept a completely blank expression.
He tilted his head left and right, quietly taking stock of his surroundings.
“Hey!
You’ll bring divine punishment down on yourself for showing a woman this little respect!” Buckin, seeing her flirtation completely and utterly ignored, lost all composure and erupted.
The innate competitive streak that was simply part of a woman’s nature seized full control of Buckin’s mind.
She had just learned from Dr.
Vegapunk about this boy’s genetic makeup — and the same thought that might have occurred to Charlotte Linlin began to take shape.
“Hold on…” Buckin’s mood lurched again — swinging from furious to a distant, scheming stare fixed on the awakened Arthur in the span of a breath.
I’ll grow old eventually.
I’ve still got a little of my looks left.
If I use this boy’s genes to produce a child…
wouldn’t those terrifying cellular properties be enough to keep me forever young?
The idea took hold and ran — seduce this kid, get involved with him, then use the union of his essence and her own body to produce a child.
Then by studying the child’s cells — wouldn’t she have everything she needed, without having to beg anyone, or waste years searching for a Devil Fruit that reverses aging?
Buckin bit the tip of her lipstick-painted finger, sizing Arthur up.
Her smile grew wider and more electric by the second.
Given how completely drained he was, that must have been one brutal fight…
He must have collapsed from pure exhaustion…
Arthur was quietly reconstructing what had happened hours earlier, methodically checking his body.
The bandages wound all over him drew a frown.
“The Almighty Bandages” — this makes the second time I’ve been wrapped head to toe in these.
Just what kind of sorcery is in these things?
“So, young man~,” Buckin rose and planted herself squarely in front of Arthur, eyes batting suggestively.
“How would you feel about doing something a little special with me?
Let me teach you the finer points of womanhood.”
Her most beguiling display was wasted on him.
Looking at her, all Arthur could see was a preview of what Buckin would look like thirty years from now.
“I don’t hit women, as a rule.” Arthur met her gaze without a flicker of interest and warned her evenly: “But keep making that face at me — and I’m fairly certain you’ll end up looking like a pig’s head before long.”