-Broadcast-
The revelation that G-5 Base Commander Vergo—a Marine Vice Admiral with an impeccable service record—was actually a long-term spy for Doflamingo sent shockwaves through both Admirals. Through Smoker's grim recounting of events on Punk Hazard, the true scope of the conspiracy began to unfold.
For over fifteen years, this operation had been carefully orchestrated. Vergo's mission was simple: pave the way for Caesar Clown's scientific career while providing cover for his illegal research. Though Caesar might lack the legendary genius of his former colleague Dr. Vegapunk, their shared history suggested capabilities that couldn't be dismissed lightly. The fact that he had successfully created artificial Devil Fruits through scientific means was unprecedented in the world's history.
Caesar Clown, still pinned beneath Admiral Smoker's boot, had abandoned all pretense of dignity. Tears streamed down his face as he blubbered out the secrets of his research, desperate to preserve his miserable life.
"I developed the SAD substance myself!" he wailed, his voice cracking under the pressure. "Using SAD as the raw material and combining it with various animal genetic factors, I can mass-produce SMILE artificial Devil Fruits in the factory hidden beneath Dressrosa!"
But even as he confessed, Caesar's scientific pride compelled him to explain the limitations of his work. "The SMILE fruits aren't perfect replications of natural Zoan abilities. They're more like... biological lottery tickets. The odds of failure far exceed the chances of success."
The failures, he explained with growing animation despite his circumstances, were perhaps worse than having no power at all. Those unlucky enough to consume defective SMILE fruits didn't just fail to gain animal abilities—they lost their capacity for human emotion, retaining only the ability to laugh. Even witnessing the death of loved ones would provoke nothing but involuntary laughter from these tragic victims. Within Kaido's organization, such individuals were cynically dubbed "Pleasers."
The successful subjects, known as "Gifters," received animal traits that were crude mockeries of true Zoan powers. Random animal parts would sprout from their bodies without their control, sometimes actively working against their intentions. Unlike true Zoan users who could shift between human, animal, and hybrid forms at will, Gifters were stuck with their bizarre alterations permanently.
"Semi-finished products," Gin concluded with evident relief. "Or more accurately, defective prototypes. If this is the level of enhancement Kaido's forces are receiving, then the threat is manageable. A Giver probably isn't significantly stronger than an ordinary pirate."
Caesar's expression shifted from terror to indignation at the casual dismissal of his work. "You muscle-brained fool! You understand nothing about the elegance of science! What I've just described represents my research from three years ago—ancient history by scientific standards!"
Smoker's patience finally snapped. His boot connected with Caesar's face, sending the scientist tumbling across the cell until he struck the far wall with a satisfying crack. "Then enlighten us, genius. What have you accomplished recently?"
Caesar struggled to his feet, his face already swelling from the impact. Despite his pathetic state, his eyes gleamed with the fervor of a true fanatic. "The secret of the Devil Fruit... the bloodline factor itself... I, Caesar Clown, have conquered them all! Zoan-type fruits are primitive garbage compared to what I can create now. Logia-type abilities—that's where true power lies!"
The claim sent a chill through both Admirals. If Caesar could truly replicate Logia powers artificially, the implications were catastrophic. An army of pirates wielding the power of the elements would render conventional Marine tactics obsolete.
"Is he telling the truth?" Gin asked, though his tone suggested he already suspected the answer.
"He talks a big game," Smoker replied with characteristic bluntness, "but his creations are still half-finished garbage like the SMILE fruits. I could handle three of his artificial Logia users single-handedly."
The Sky Screen seemed to sense the audience's need for proof, shifting its display to show scenes from Smoker's confrontation on Punk Hazard. The memories played out with crystal clarity, transporting viewers directly into the heart of the action.
"You shouldn't have come here, Smoker," Vergo's calm voice echoed across the factory floor. "If a Marine Admiral dies on Punk Hazard, will Acting Fleet Admiral Artoria mourn your loss?"
"You traitorous bastard," Smoker snarled, stripping off his jacket as he prepared for battle. "You have no right to speak her name!"
The two Marines faced each other in the industrial complex, their conflict transforming the carefully maintained facility into a battlefield. Machinery exploded under the force of their attacks, pipes burst and released clouds of superheated steam, and the very foundations of the building groaned under the assault.
Vergo fought without Devil Fruit powers, relying instead on masterful applications of both Armament and Observation Haki. His weapon of choice—a simple bamboo staff—became deadly through the application of advanced Armament Haki, allowing him to strike Smoker's elemental body with devastating effect.
"The Moku Moku no Mi (Smoke-Smoke Fruit) has to be the weakest of all Logia abilities," Vergo taunted as his staff connected with Smoker's solidified form. "No offensive capability whatsoever. Even Caesar's Gasu Gasu no Mi can create explosions. How exactly did you become an Admiral, Smoker?"
To outside observers, the battle seemed to favor the Marine spy. Smoker appeared to be fighting defensively, barely managing to block Vergo's relentless assault with his own Armament Haki. The Admiral's smoke-based attacks seemed to have no effect on his opponent's enhanced defenses.
But then, without warning, Vergo's confident assault faltered.
"What's... happening..." The Vice Admiral dropped to his knees, his bamboo staff clattering to the floor as his hands flew to his throat. Despite breathing normally through his mouth and nose, an overwhelming sensation of suffocation began to consume him. His brain screamed for oxygen that wasn't reaching his bloodstream, and his Armament Haki flickered and died.
"How does carbon your body feel?" Smoker asked with cold satisfaction, his smoke taking on an ominous, invisible quality. "You're so focused on physical combat that you never considered the Moku Moku no Mi's real potential. Everyone has to breathe, Vergo. Everyone."
"Sweet dreams." The Admiral's Haki-enhanced boot descended like a meteor, driving Vergo's skull into the factory floor with such force that spider-web cracks spread outward from the point of impact. The spy's body went completely limp, consciousness fled from his broken form.
From the shadows, Caesar Clown emerged to witness his protector's defeat, actually applauding despite the circumstances. "Magnificent! I didn't expect the Moku-Moku no Mi to possess such capabilities. Carbon monoxide poisoning—you've turned your ability into a weapon against any oxygen-breathing opponent. A true killer."
"Scientists really do see patterns quickly," Smoker acknowledged, reforming his body from the dispersing gas. "Are you going to surrender peacefully, Caesar Clown?"
The Admiral's tactical evolution had been born from necessity. Recognizing that his Moku-Moku no Mi lacked direct offensive power, he had spent years researching alternative applications. The breakthrough came when he realized that smoke didn't have to be harmless white vapor—it could be refined into far deadlier compounds.
Carbon monoxide was the perfect weapon: colorless, odorless, tasteless, and nearly insoluble in water. Under normal atmospheric conditions, CO levels remained safely below 0.002%. But when Smoker flooded an area with concentrated carbon monoxide, the results were inevitably fatal.
The poisoning occurred through two vectors—inhalation through normal breathing, and absorption through skin contact as the gas infiltrated blood vessels directly. No defense existed against an attack the victim couldn't detect until it was already too late. Any creature dependent on oxygen for survival would eventually succumb to the invisible killer.
The fact that Vergo had lasted as long as he did spoke to his exceptional physical conditioning as a Marine Vice Admiral. An ordinary person would have collapsed within minutes of exposure to such concentrated toxin levels.
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