Roya took a deep breath, suppressing the fury burning inside him. His voice turned cold:
"Notify all kingdoms:
One month from now, a World Summit will be convened."
"The theme of this summit:
The abolishment of the Celestial Dragon system and the abolishment of the Head Tax."
"Any World Government member nation that dares refuse to attend will be considered to have withdrawn from the jurisdiction and protection of the World Government. They alone will bear the consequences."
"Any Celestial Dragon or affiliated faction that dares take any action before the summit begins will be regarded as having declared war against me.
They alone will bear the consequences."
Each time he uttered "they alone will bear the consequences," the weight in his voice pressed the gathered crowd closer and closer to the ground.
No one dared speak a word of protest. After all, the bloody remains of Saint Roswald—a powerful figure even among the Celestial Dragons—were still splattered across the faces of nobility in the crowd.
With such a brutal warning laid bare, who among them would dare challenge Roya's will?
Among the nobles present, some of the more timid had already soiled themselves, overwhelmed by the pressure of his aura—leaving the entire street reeking with stench.
"Get out of my sight."
At Roya's roar, the nobles fled in terror, scrambling over one another in desperate retreat.
The Five Elders remained kneeling, exchanging glances with great difficulty under the crushing pressure.
The sheer force of Roya's presence had made them feel his undeniable supremacy firsthand.
After years of serving Imu—who had once been the world's strongest—their minds had been conditioned to submit to overwhelming strength. Now, almost instinctively, they had formed a unified understanding:
They would serve Roya with all they had.
Just then, a cloaked figure appeared at the entrance of the street.
A gentle breeze blew the cloak against the figure's body, revealing a shockingly emaciated form beneath.
But this kind of thinness was far from natural.
A normal human being, reduced to such a state, would have already died.
A hollow voice came from beneath the cloak:
"Lord Roya, to demonstrate my sincerity… I, Vegapunk, have come before you in my true body, though it may be unseemly to behold."
Fresh yet familiar energy radiated from this skeletal figure.
The sensation made Roya's brow crease tightly—because the aura Vegapunk exuded was identical to that of Im.
There was no doubt—Vegapunk's current appearance was not due to some disease, but because his body had undergone metallic mutation.
And judging by just how gaunt he had become, it was clear that his level of metallic transformation far exceeded even Im's!
While Roya pieced this together, Vegapunk stepped closer and bowed deeply.
"Greetings, Lord Roya."
Roya's brows slowly relaxed. He had figured it out.
The reason Vegapunk had devoted himself so obsessively to gene sequencing and bio-engineering was likely tied to his desperate effort to resolve his own bodily mutation.
Even Im's unconditional support of Vegapunk's work, and his willingness to indulge the Science Division's inhumane experiments, likely stemmed from this shared affliction.
By appearing now in his current state, Vegapunk wasn't here to argue—but to explain and to defuse Roya's wrath.
He straightened up slowly, then dramatically threw open his cloak.
Even with Roya's incredible strength of will, he couldn't help but gasp at the sight of Vegapunk's body.
There was no flesh remaining—only a frame of dark green metal bones.
The exact same skeletal structure that made up Im's partially mechanical body.
But there were differences.
Where Imu's body resembled a pulsing humanoid signal beacon, Vegapunk's body looked like a burning skeleton, wreathed in eerie green flames.
It was clear—Vegapunk was not a beacon like Im.
His metal, rib-like body might very well represent the true form of that extraterrestrial race—the same beings who had once descended upon this world and wiped out the ancient civilization.
The Five Elders, catching a glimpse of the infamous scientist's ghastly appearance, were left utterly shaken. If Roya hadn't been standing nearby, they would have fled without hesitation.
But ever shrewd, they quickly recognized that Vegapunk's condition was something Roya took immense interest in.
And indeed, Roya's anger was now visibly dissipating.
Realizing this, the Five Elders quietly exchanged looks. If they could divert the World Government's resources toward supporting Vegapunk's research, that might become the best way to prove their continued value to Roya.
As this silent understanding passed between them, Vegapunk removed his hood, revealing a face so exquisitely delicate in its features that it was hard to tell what gender he had once been.
It was the last remaining part of his body that retained the form of a living being—and it finally allowed Roya to ease a little.
Roya's gaze also caught something else.
Around Vegapunk's neck, there was a black ring of slime.
It was this black liquid that was containing the green flames constantly surging up his metallic body.
The green fire climbed relentlessly, but never managed to breach that slimy barrier.
Clearly, this black substance was the source of life keeping Vegapunk's biological head alive.
It was a bold and brilliant maneuver—fully worthy of the title of the world's greatest scientific genius.
Vegapunk glanced down at his own body, then spoke with a trace of bitter irony:
"Looks impressive, doesn't it?"
"This bizarre metal that even I can't fully understand—
It possesses the traits of both flesh and alloy, with resilience and strength far beyond anything I can currently measure."
"To date, I've found nothing capable of damaging it."
"Even Aokiji's ice, compressed ten thousand times, couldn't extinguish the green fire burning on these metallic ribs."
"This is the price I paid for succumbing to temptation…
The cost of accepting forbidden knowledge from the moon."
His voice was calm—serenely quiet, born from the stillness of utter despair.
And sensing that peace within him, Roya's anger fully faded.
After all, even he hadn't expected that the moon was not a conquered satellite of an ancient civilization, but rather a listening post for an alien race.
Vegapunk had somehow made contact with their technology—perhaps unintentionally—and gained a mind five centuries ahead of his time.
But in doing so, he had also sacrificed himself to that terrifying alien force.
With a soft sigh, Roya furrowed his brow.
"What about Kuma? What happened to him?"
Vegapunk turned toward Bartholomew Kuma, his eyes filled with profound reverence:
"I helped him conceal his identity as a Revolutionary Army officer."
"In exchange… he voluntarily allowed me to modify his body."
"So that, through him, I might uncover the secrets behind my own condition."
"I also made him a promise—
That when the right time came, I would help the Revolutionary Army achieve their goal."
"But sadly… I haven't even found the doorway to that goal yet…"