"The Seraphim aren't like my clones. They need time to adapt to their bodies and their abilities."
Dr. Vegapunk looked over the first generation of Seraphim with deep satisfaction. Each one carried a potential as fearsome as Souta Kiryuu himself.
Not only could they wield the Paramecia-type powers of the Green Blood system, but they were also equipped with laser technology. On top of that, there was even a chance they could awaken one or two of the bloodline traits that Souta carried—
the strength of the Oni, the resilience of the Ancient Giants, the adaptability of Fishmen, the lunar-transformed Mink heritage, or even specialized abilities like immense raw power, invisibility, or venom.
Only someone like Souta, a "super-adaptive body," could naturally carry such a fusion of powers. For the Seraphim, it was experimental at best.
Even so, S-Bear—the Seraphim modeled after Bartholomew Kuma—was already terrifying in his own right. Outfitted with Lunarian and Buccaneer heritage, equipped with laser systems, and given the replicated Green Blood of the Nikyu Nikyu no Mi, he stood as a walking fortress.
Vegapunk was convinced: this single batch of Seraphim could rival the entire Seven Warlords of the Sea. With them, Souta's crew wouldn't just rise—they could stand toe-to-toe with the Holy Knights themselves.
"Honestly, Vegapunk," Souta said with a grin, watching the Seraphim stir to life, "I think you're stronger than that so-called Sun God Nika. You'll be the reason this world finds peace."
The Seraphim and the Pacifistas had been keyed to obey only two individuals. At the highest level: Souta Kiryuu himself. At secondary: Vegapunk. No one else—not even Vegapunk's satellites—had authority over them. The Pacifistas had an additional tertiary level of permissions, allowing certain allies to give orders, but the Seraphim were different. They were Souta's weapons now.
"Sun God Nika…" Vegapunk muttered, stroking his chin. "The ancient records describe him as a warrior who could liberate the world, bring joy to the people. But whether he truly existed… that, I still cannot prove."
Souta chuckled. "Dragon's son has the Nika Fruit. You interested in making a perfect artificial Nika Fruit?"
Vegapunk's eyes flickered.
"Of course," Souta continued, "that fruit has a will of its own. Unless it finds a host who resonates with its spirit, it never awakens. To most, it's nothing but a common Rubber Fruit." His grin widened. "But still… imagine the potential."
He knew it wasn't simple. The artificial Devil Fruits might never awaken into mythical powers. Even his own artificial Azure Dragon powers remained uncertain—yet, lately, something was changing within him.
The world now saw him not as a dragon of the sky, but as a crimson beast, a mythical dragon touched by fire and will. Was it the prayers and beliefs of the masses reshaping his very existence?
Perhaps this was the true nature of Devil Fruits—manifestations of collective will. Perhaps, if he were to die, his power would not fade, but transform into a new fruit altogether, something never before seen on the seas.
The world's mysteries ran deeper than anyone realized.
"…Don't let Dragon know."
Vegapunk's voice was low, conflicted. For a long time he wrestled with the thought, but his thirst for knowledge was too strong. If he could study Nika's liberation powers, if he could grasp the mechanics of joy itself—how could he resist?
In his heart, he whispered an apology to his old friend Dragon.
Souta smirked. "Knew you couldn't resist, old man. You've always had a flexible moral line. That's why you've survived this long."
After finalizing the Seraphim designations, Souta left Vegapunk's laboratory. His plans were already moving to the next phase. Once the Seraphim were fully battle-ready, his crew wouldn't just rival a Yonko—they would surpass them, becoming the second-greatest force on the seas.
The strongest, of course, remained the World Government, with its eight-hundred-year legacy, its Five Elders, its Holy Knights, and the shadowy sovereign Im. Souta didn't yet know how powerful Im truly was, but he knew enough: if even the Five Elders bowed to them, then their might was beyond imagining.
Still, Souta's ambition burned. He would rise, overthrow the World Government, and beyond that… he would pierce into the mysteries of the universe itself—into the stars, into the underworld, into the origins of the Devil Fruits.
Were they truly born from the will of all living things?
If so, why did the sea itself reject them?
Meanwhile, under Souta's orders, Dragon finalized his timing. The Revolutionary Army's elite were preparing to move into the West Blue.
The Flower Kingdom and the Sang Kingdom—two pirate nations of terrifying strength—stood in their path.
The Flower Kingdom alone fielded the Eight Treasures Navy, a military pirate force numbering over a thousand, with more than seven divisions as strong as Chinjao's men. Decades ago, Chinjao's bounty had exceeded 542 million beli, his mastery of all three forms of Haki and the Hasshoken unmatched. Even he had once suffered defeat at the hands of Sang Kingdom forces, proof that neither of these nations could be taken lightly.
Now, his grandson Lao G and the thirteenth-generation heir Sai carried on the Eight Treasures' name. Sai himself once broke off an engagement with the daughter of another Treasure Army for Baby 5, and in doing so, endured a savage beating from his former fiancée. His bounty stood at 210 million beli, with command of advanced Haki techniques. In the West Blue, such strength was rare. Even in the New World, it earned recognition.
For comparison, Squard, the Whitebeard subordinate who famously stabbed his own captain, held the same bounty—210 million.
That alone showed the Flower Kingdom's power.
And yet, Souta still questioned: how had Capone Bege, a mere mafia boss, managed to unify the underworld of the West Blue?
In the original records, when Bege arrived at Sabaody, his bounty had only been 138 million—far below the likes of Chinjao's army. Clearly, the pirates and the mafiosi operated as separate systems, rarely crossing paths.
And now Souta would pit them against each other.
The West Blue would burn.
...
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