Water Seven: Scrapyard Island.
On the backside of the city lies Scrapyard Island, where the wreckage of abandoned ships piles up like mountains of rusted bone. In a remote dock, the Eclipse rested quietly. The matte-black warship resembled an ancient sea beast dozing amidst the ruins, exuding a chilling aura.
But greed always finds a way.
"Hey, Boss Zambai, are you sure about this? Just looking at that ram makes my skin crawl," a henchman whispered, clutching a giant wrench.
"What's there to fear! In Water Seven, no pirate ship escapes the Franky Family!" Zambai, the square-faced leader, slapped his subordinate. His eyes were glued to the alloy plating of the Eclipse. "This isn't just wood; it's encased in high-grade alloy! Imagine the keel inside! Dismantling this will buy Boss Franky all the Adam Wood he needs!"
Dozens of thugs crept onto the deck, tools in hand.
Clang.
A thug's crowbar hit something exceptionally hard. He looked up, trembling. His tool hadn't hit the ship—it had struck a massive, vein-coiled arm as thick as a bucket.
In the shadows, Urouge sat cross-legged, his mountain-like physique blocking the path.
"Amitabha," the monk opened his eyes, a fierce, renegade smile blooming on his face. "Gentlemen, breaking onto this ship with so much steel... do you wish to send this old monk to meet the Buddha ahead of schedule?"
"Don't be afraid! He's just one man!" Zambai roared, raising a machete. "Franky Family, attack!"
"I was worried my bones were getting rusty," Urouge laughed. He didn't dodge. He stood still as several machetes hacked at his shoulders.
Clang! Clatter!
The blades didn't even break the skin. Instead, the recoil numbed the thugs' hands.
"Allow me to offer some physical enlightenment!" Urouge swiped his hand like swatting flies. The front row of thugs was sent flying like broken sacks, vomiting foam before crashing into the murky water.
The Arrival of the Cyborg.
"Who dares touch my little brothers!"
A man with an exaggerated blue pompadour, wearing only a floral shirt and swimming trunks, strode into view. Iron Man Franky. Seeing his family on the ground, he flipped his palm to reveal a dark gun barrel.
"Ignorant pirates! Take this—'Weapons Left'!"
BOOM!
A scorching cannonball hurtled toward Urouge. The monk prepared to crush it with his Haki-clad fist, but a shadow leaped from a nearby wreck, landing with the hiss of high-pressure steam.
Jeno swung his hydraulic power hammer, meeting the cannonball with brute kinetic energy. The explosion sent scrap metal flying, but as the smoke cleared, Jeno stood unfazed, flexing his mechanical exoskeleton.
As a top-tier Mechanic, Jeno didn't see an enemy—he saw a masterpiece. "Human modification? You integrated the artillery into the bone structure?!"
Jeno's eyes turned bloodshot with scientific madness. "Hey, you blue-haired exhibitionist! How does that body provide transmission energy?!"
Franky's eyebrows twitched. He looked at Jeno's Starfall Black Steel exoskeleton and the Flame Dials glowing on the hammer. "High-pressure steam? And those weird shells? I've never seen a dual-kinetic system like that! It's... SUUUUUPER rugged!"
"Want to know my power source?" Franky grinned, slapping his steel chest. A compartment in his stomach opened to reveal three bottles of ice-cold cola. "Listen well! This is my strongest engine—Cola!"
"Cola?!" Jeno felt insulted. "You think sugar water can power heavy ordnance? Let's see if my steam hammer can turn your scrap metal into a pancake!"
"Bring it on, Steam-boy!"
The Negotiation.
Just as their armored fists were about to collide, a voice like a thunderclap cut through the roar.
"Stop."
Jeno immediately halted, his exoskeleton hissing as he retreated. Franky pulled back, frowning.
Ace strode onto the scarred ground, locking his gaze on the cyborg. "Cutty Flam, right?"
Franky froze. That name—his true name—should have died years ago with the Sea Train. "Who are you? A government lackey?"
"I'm not a rat," Ace said bluntly. "I came to ask for your help in upgrading my ship."
"Repairing ships? You have the wrong guy. I only dismantle them," Franky spat.
"Whether you're a shipwright or not isn't for you to decide yet," Ace countered calmly. "My name is Portgas D. Ace. My father was Gol D. Roger."
Franky's jaw dropped. Roger... his mentor, Tom, had built the Oro Jackson for that man.
"Your master used Adam Wood to build a ship that traversed the world," Ace continued. "I am on a path to overturn this world. Having Tom's apprentice upgrade the Eclipse is the only legacy that makes sense."
Franky's eyes stung. The memory of his master's laughter echoed in his mind.
"I know what the World Government did to Tom," Ace's voice was like iron. "Take this job. When I storm Mary Geoise and crush the Five Elders, consider it my vengeance for Master Tom."
Those words smashed through Franky's last line of defense.
"Don't worry about the cost," Ace pointed to the Eclipse. "Buy the best timber. And," he gestured to Jeno, "my Mechanic has rare tech from the Moon and Sky Island. Use it all. I want a warship that can rampage through the New World."
Franky stared at the black ship, then at Jeno's strange hammer. He was a gangster hiding in the sewers, but here was a madman offering him a blank check, revenge, and forbidden technology.
Glug, glug, glug.
Franky downed a bottle of cola and smashed it on the ground. "If I shrank back now, I'd be a disgrace to Tom's Workers!" He strode toward Jeno. "Exoskeleton guy! Show me those blueprints! If the pressure-structure is weak, I'm out!"
"Weak?! This is a lightning-array closed loop, you pervert!"
The two maniacs were already screaming at each other about steel ratios and pressure valves. Ace watched them with a smirk. He didn't need to steal the Pluton blueprints; he had just recruited the only man who had them memorized.
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