This is Uncle Tom's will," Iceburg said firmly. "He told me you and he alone can finish the Sea Train. He even encouraged me to leave as soon as possible, to walk the path toward becoming the world's greatest shipwright.
By invoking Tom's words again, Iceburg knew Franky's resistance had already begun to waver. This time, he pressed harder, making it clear he was determined to leave.
Franky scowled, fists clenched.
"Hmph! I don't believe it. Even if you follow the same path as Uncle Tom, you'll never become the world's greatest shipwright. You'll regret leaving! And anyway—the world's number one shipwright will be me!"
Though he was angry, Franky had already accepted deep down that Iceburg was truly leaving. He couldn't change his friend's mind. If this really was Tom's will, then he couldn't oppose it.
Iceburg smirked and raised his chin.
"Hahaha, fine! Then we'll see which of us becomes number one. But don't cry when you lose."
The two locked eyes. Though their words were sharp, fire and unwillingness blazed in both their gazes—it was a reluctant farewell more than a quarrel.
After the two apprentices left, Buggy produced a roll of schematics and placed them before Tom.
"Uncle Tom, I came across these ship designs by chance. I want you to use them to upgrade my vessel. Think you can do it?"
At the mention of ship designs, Tom's eyes lit up with interest. His lips curved into a proud grin.
"As long as it's a ship, nothing's beyond me. Let me see them."
That confidence came from being the world's greatest shipwright—Tom had never once faltered when it came to ships.
Buggy handed over the blueprints. Tom unrolled them, eyes scanning the detailed sketches. His expression froze for a moment, then softened into booming laughter.
"Interesting! But no problem. You want your ship to fly, don't you?"
The schematics were of Ark Maxim, Enel's airborne vessel. The designs were crude in some places, yet novel and ambitious. For a master like Tom, it wasn't too hard to grasp. He immediately saw through Buggy's intentions, adding the power of flight to his ship.
"That's right, Uncle Tom," Buggy admitted. "I want to give my ship the ability to fly."
"The Sea Train is one thing," Tom said with a grin, "but for this, you'll need a proper dockyard. Take your ship to Dock Island, find me a large enough shipyard, and leave the rest to me."
In this small workshop, the tools and space were insufficient. Only a real dockyard could handle such modifications.
Buggy nodded. "Understood. I'll prepare at once. Uncle Tom, I'll leave 200 million Berries with you—will that cover the costs?"
Designing and rebuilding a ship based on Ark Maxim's principles would be exorbitant. But Buggy had prepared for that.
Tom thought for a moment, then replied, "That should be more than enough. If it isn't, I'll let you know."
Buggy smiled. "Money isn't an issue. Use the best materials you can find. And once it's done, I'll pay you a generous commission besides."
For Buggy, now a tycoon thanks to Skypiea's golden treasures, hundreds of millions were pocket change. Even the cost of remaking the Glory several times over would barely dent his wealth.
With Tom's matter settled, Buggy took his leave, returning to the Glory with the captured CP9 agents. He wasn't in a hurry—Iceburg could rejoin him later.
Back at the ship, Buggy gathered his crew and introduced their newest member.
"We now have a shipwright," he announced, "Iceburg. You'll all meet him soon."
He didn't elaborate; Iceburg could introduce himself when the time came.
Then Buggy inquired about Dock Island's shipyards. After some scouting, the Glory sailed into the wide waterways leading to the docks. Soon, they located a reputable shipyard known for its reliability and scale.
Buggy explained their needs: they would rent the facilities temporarily, and Tom would personally perform the modifications.
The shipyard workers were shocked. Tom's name was both legendary and dangerous—his current status made him a sensitive figure. But a mixture of Berries and Buggy's intimidating presence convinced them. Their only condition: Tom had to come quietly, avoiding unwanted eyes.
Buggy readily agreed. He wanted to keep Tom's movements discreet anyway.
With the yard secured, Buggy issued orders.
"Daddy Masterson," he said, "take Kuro and Jessica to fetch Uncle Tom from the scrapyard. Bring him to the dock."
"As for the rest of us…" Buggy turned to Enel, Lafitte, Shiryu, Weevil, and the two CP9 captives. "We'll move on to the next step."
They relocated to a secluded, uninhabited corner of Water 7's coastline. There, Buggy forced the CP9 agents—whose lives were in his hands—to contact their superior.
"Call Spandine," Buggy ordered.
The agents hesitated, but Buggy's cold gaze silenced them. Adjusting their expressions under his watch, they dialed the Den Den Mushi.
Buru buru, buru buru…
The snailphone connected, its face morphing into Spandine's.
His voice came sharp and impatient:
"What is it? Did something happen with Tom?"
The agents answered smoothly, just as Buggy had instructed:
"Sir, we've discovered the movements of the 'Devil Child,' Nico Robin. Requesting orders."
Buggy knew this was bait Spandine could never resist. Robin's very existence was a thorn in the World Government's side. Her parents, her people—all wiped out at Spandine's command. If she had truly resurfaced in Water 7, he would come personally, eager to erase the last survivor of Ohara and claim the glory of capturing her.
The snake was about to crawl from its hole.