New World, Egghead Island.
This future island, hailed as "five hundred years ahead of human wisdom," is perpetually shrouded under a massive dome composed of holographic projections and constant-temperature force fields. While it might be storming outside, the Punk Records hall inside always maintains the most comfortable body temperature.
The air was filled with the unique scent of machine oil and ozone. Giant gears meshed silently behind transparent pipes, and countless data streams washed across circular screens like waterfalls.
"Wrong! Completely wrong!"
A furious roar shattered the silence of the laboratory.
At the main console in the center of the lab, an old man with a disproportionately large head and an antenna resembling an apple stem on top was irritably slamming a stack of data tablets onto the floor.
He was Vegapunk, the smartest brain in the world.
At this moment, the great scientist was venting his anger at a twisting, proliferating purple-black cell model on the screen. That was the top-secret data just sent back from Marineford—the sample data for the virus codenamed "Blacklight."
"This genetic sequence is practically gibberish! It completely defies the basic logic of biological evolution!"
Vegapunk clutched his messy hair, his tongue sticking out long—a habitual gesture when his thinking was overloaded.
"It has no concept of 'lifespan'; every cell acts like an independent individual, yet they share a single Hive consciousness. Devouring, assimilating, restructuring... this isn't something that could evolve in nature; it's a monster doodled by God while he was drunk!"
A robot designated "Punk-01," Shaka, walked over, its voice calm and devoid of inflection.
"Main Body, according to calculations, if we cannot find a reverse transcriptase capable of curbing its 'infinite proliferation' characteristic, the global ecosystem will collapse within three months once this virus spreads."
"I know that!"
Vegapunk huffed, his mustache twitching with anger.
"The key is the antidote! The antidote! Do those idiots in the Marines think I'm a god? Even a god took seven days to create man, and they actually expect me to handle this logic-defying thing in three days?"
He irritably tapped randomly on the console, turning off the projection of the Blacklight virus.
"Forget it, I need a change of pace. Let me see if there's anything interesting in this issue of 'World Science Weekly'; hopefully, it'll cleanse my eyes."
Vegapunk casually clicked on an encrypted email from the underground black market. Such places usually circulated crazy theories not recognized by the World Government or deemed heretical.
A few seconds later.
Vegapunk, who had been grumbling just a moment ago, suddenly fell silent.
His eyes widened, his eyeballs nearly pressing against the screen.
On the screen was a paper signed by Bruce Banner, with an extremely obscure title—'On the Potent Excitation and Emotion-Induced Mutation of Biological Cell Mitochondria by High-Energy Gamma Rays'.
"This... this is..."
Vegapunk's fingers began to tremble as he scrolled quickly through the screen, skimming the text at lightning speed.
"A genius... no, this is a madman! An absolute madman!"
He slapped his thigh hard, his entire face flushing red with excitement.
"Using Gamma Rays to destroy the original genetic locks, forcibly inducing cellular atavism, and converting the emotional wave of 'anger' into bio-electric energy to achieve infinite physical strengthening?"
"If this theory holds true, it means humans could create biological weapons even more terrifying than the Giant Race out of thin air!"
Vegapunk spun around the lab like a child.
"Although the theory is crude and even full of dangerous assumptions, this line of thinking... this concept of 'energy conversion' is practically tailor-made to counter the 'Blacklight virus'!"
Blacklight devours matter.
Whereas Banner's theory uses radiation to detonate energy from within.
"I must find him! Right now! Immediately!"
Vegapunk spun around abruptly and roared at a floating lounge chair in the corner of the lab.
"Borsalino! Stop sleeping! Get up and work!"
In the corner of the lab, on a high-tech anti-gravity lounge chair, lay a tall man wearing a yellow striped suit.
Admiral Kizaru, Borsalino.
A newspaper covered his face, and his hands were crossed over his abdomen, rising and falling rhythmically with his breathing as if all the clamor outside had nothing to do with him.
Hearing Vegapunk's roar, Kizaru did not get up immediately.
He slowly raised a hand, lifted a corner of the newspaper to reveal half a dead-fish eye, and spoke in a tone so lazy it made one want to hit him.
"Oh... Dr. Vegapunk, I've only been asleep for less than five minutes..."
"Sleep? The world is ending and you can still sleep?"
Vegapunk rushed over and snatched the newspaper off Kizaru's face.
"Quick! Go! Go to a place called Calebari Island! Help me bring someone back!"
Kizaru frowned, sat up slowly, pulled a pair of nail clippers from his coat, and began to meticulously trim his nails.
"That place... it's quite far..."
"Besides, my mission is to stay on Egghead and protect the safety of you, the 'World's Greatest Brain'."
Click.
The nail clippers nipped off a piece of nail.
Kizaru blew on his finger and looked at Vegapunk with his head tilted, his wrinkled face written all over with resistance.
"Leaving here to catch someone, that's an extra fee. Besides, for this kind of errand, wouldn't sending any random CP0 agent do?"
"What do those useless CP0 fools know!"
Vegapunk hopped around in anxiety, the apple antenna on his head wobbling back and forth.
"That guy named Banner is an extremely dangerous uncontrollable factor! His research involves Gamma Ray explosions. If ordinary people go to catch him and accidentally provoke him, the whole island will be blown to the sky!"
"Only you! Only your speed can get the situation under control before he can react!"
"How scary... a scientist who explodes."
"Since it's so dangerous, I definitely can't go. If these old bones of mine get hurt, it's very hard to apply for a pension from Marine Headquarters."
"You!"
Vegapunk was choked with anger.
"Borsalino! This is insubordination! I'm going to complain to the Gorosei about you!"
"Oh~ suit yourself."
Kizaru yawned, turned over, and faced away from Vegapunk.
"People these days, always using superiors to pressure others. I am an Admiral, after all; I have my dignity..."
"And it's teatime now, I refuse to work overtime."
The air in the lab froze.
Shaka silently recorded on the side: "Admiral Kizaru, negative work attitude, suggested deduction of this month's performance bonus."
Just as Vegapunk was about to grab a wrench and hurl it at this old slacker.
Purupurupuru... Purupurupuru...
A rapid Den Den Mushi ringtone rang out from Kizaru's coat.
The sound was sharp and piercing, with no intention of stopping.
Kizaru's body stiffened for a moment.
He sighed and slowly pulled a golden Den Den Mushi from his coat.
That was the emergency line reserved for the Fleet Admiral.
"Moshi moshi... this is Borsalino..."