The voice was so familiar that Bartholomew Kuma's hand, which was already halfway through a strike, froze in midair.
His eyes widened in disbelief—and so did Vegapunk's.
With his brilliant mind, he had already suspected it from the start. The voice was simply too familiar, and now, his jaw dropped open.
"Oh!!! It's Orin!!!"
"Orin-san?!!!"
Orin raised his head with a slight smile, then glanced at the massive paw that had stopped beside his face, looking rather curious.
Before Kuma could react, Orin casually reached out and poked it with his finger.
"Wait—!!!"
Kuma's expression changed, and he hurried to stop him, but it was already too late. Orin had touched it.
That paw held the power to send a person flying into the depths of the sea—no ordinary human could withstand it. It was practically a bug-level ability.
Kuma closed his eyes in pain. Gentle as he was, he couldn't bear to witness Orin being blasted away.
But then...
Something miraculous happened. Orin simply tapped Kuma's paw with his knuckle and walked past him, completely unharmed.
"Eh???"
It wasn't until Orin had already walked away that Kuma blinked in disbelief, staring down at his paw pads.
He had definitely made contact... hadn't he?
"You're back, Orin. How does it feel?"
Vegapunk didn't seem particularly surprised. After all, he had always believed Orin's return was only a matter of time. The man was, after all, the greatest financial backer of his research. His return was more than welcome.
"What, you want to know about the events from eight hundred years ago? You probably already have a rough idea from the books of Ohara, don't you?"
Orin smiled as he spoke, shifting his gaze to the massive cultivation tank before him. Within the nutrient solution floated a gigantic embryo.
"Well... that's true..."
Vegapunk didn't press further. After all, it was nothing more than the war between the founders of the World Government and the Great Kingdom. He wasn't a historian—knowing the details was meaningless to him.
"So? It's been nearly ten years now, hasn't it? Still no result?"
Extending his Observation Haki, Orin sensed the heartbeat, physique, and aura of the embryo. It wasn't bad—quite satisfactory, actually. With its enhanced physique and bloodline, it was nearly on par with his own childhood self.
"Uh..."
At Orin's sudden question, Vegapunk's previously cheerful expression froze. Sweat formed on his forehead as he stroked his beard, eyes darting nervously.
Seeing this, Orin raised a brow.
Was there some kind of hidden flaw?
After a long moment of hesitation, Vegapunk sighed and said helplessly,
"Sorry, Orin. I couldn't meet all your requirements..."
As he spoke, he tapped the controls on the console, and an analysis chart appeared on the screen before them.
"As you can see, the current [Seraphim Nika] can't truly be called 'Nika.' At most, it's just a rubber man..."
Vegapunk didn't mention the word "darkness" in front of Kuma, but the implication was clear.
A few drops of sweat ran down his face as he avoided Orin's eyes. After all, he felt that he had failed to produce a perfect result.
But Orin's reaction wasn't what he expected. Instead, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"So what you're saying is—aside from that, all the other requirements have been met?"
"Yes, but the most important aspect of Nika still couldn't—"
Vegapunk was about to elaborate, but Orin didn't bother to listen further.
He understood the scientist's strictness.
After all, Vegapunk once labeled a replica of the Azure Dragon Fruit as a failure simply because its color was off. A "rubber Nika" was naturally unacceptable to him.
But Orin didn't see it that way.
This was already beyond his expectations. He knew full well how difficult Nika's awakening was—almost impossible without a touch of destiny. To have created something like this now—
A product combining an ancient giant's body, the Dark-Dark Fruit, the Rubber-Rubber Fruit, Joy Boy's face, and a monster's talent—was already remarkable.
There was no rush for it to debut anyway. When the true Nika form appeared, Orin would gather more material. For now, the Rubber Fruit could serve as the foundation.
"No... this is already excellent, Vegapunk. I'll bring you Nika's material next time."
Orin said calmly, offering a few comforting words to soothe Vegapunk's wounded pride.
That sentence alone struck Vegapunk like a bolt of lightning.
"...Really??!!"
He couldn't believe it. Nika's material—could it be that the legendary god would truly reappear in this world?
Orin nodded slightly, then looked between the two of them.
"You've both worked hard all this time. So..."
Ever the generous one, Orin smiled.
"From now on, for any research project costing under a hundred billion Belly, you don't need to report to me—just withdraw as needed."
Money was the one thing Orin had in excess. A single sentence from him made Vegapunk's eyes sparkle with excitement.
Then, Orin turned his gaze toward Kuma.
"But I'll be counting on you a little more, Kuma."
Kuma didn't refuse—he smiled and nodded.
"Of course, no problem. Oh, and Ginny and Bonney both asked me to thank you. They're completely healthy now!"
"Is that so..."
Just hearing Kuma's joyful tone was enough to make Orin smile in turn.
"That's good."
He didn't linger any longer. Soon after, he followed the facility staff toward the treatment area to have dinner.
...
Even the food from Alvida's ship was only enough to restore some stamina and patch up light wounds.
This time Orin was truly gravely injured. Some of the damage couldn't be healed—it required professional medical care.
"Allow me to escort you."
Suddenly, from a corner, a sultry woman with dark skin, white hair, and wings appeared. Orin froze for a moment—recognizing her instantly from her appearance.
"So this is the cloned Seraphim with the Ripe-Ripe Fruit, huh? She really was gorgeous when she was younger."
...
While Orin, battered and weary, stepped into his moment of rest and comfort, elsewhere, as the Sea Transport King Umit leaked the news, the underworld titans—and even some of the Shichibukai—caught wind of it.
"Hey, you've heard the news, haven't you?"
A scar-faced Den Den Mushi spoke in a grim voice, sounding familiar with the person on the other end.
On a small wooden boat surrounded by explosions, the now middle-aged Mihawk ignored the chaos, keeping his expression cold as he nodded toward the Den Den Mushi.
"Yeah. He's back."
The voice on the other end chuckled, cigar smoke curling upward.
"Well... it's not surprising, is it? A man like him—according to special intel from the Work Agency, his last known appearance was in the East Blue."
"Is that so..."
Passing calmly through the fire and explosions, the man in the small boat adjusted his hat, revealing a pair of sharp, terrifying eyes.
"Then let's go take a look."
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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