"So, first place in scientific achievement, hmm? Though I don't know the specifics, achieving top rank in any field within the Cosmic Realm certainly requires exceptional skill." Arthur nodded thoughtfully at Zavia's explanation.
"Emmm… I couldn't get the details. Perhaps I damaged her brain a bit too much, affecting the memory storage area." Zavia shrugged, admitting a slight misstep, though he quickly dismissed it. His next objective was to leave this place and head for Raijin Island.
Or so he thought. A sudden, crucial thought stopped him mid-stride.
(Could Momonosuke be here?) Zavia raised his foot and put it down. The image of the irritating brat flashed through his mind.
The mere mention of Momonosuke evoked a visceral reaction in most people: "Becoming Pirate King is optional, but Momonosuke must die!"
The primary reason for this widespread hatred stemmed from the boy's shameless exploitation of his youthful appearance, taking advantage of two goddesses—Nami and Robin—and then flaunting his success with a smug grin.
Every male One Piece fan felt a surge of anger towards Momonosuke, an anger that bordered on homicidal.
Zavia was no exception. He remembered vividly the rage he'd felt watching those scenes, cursing at the screen. He'd even vowed that if he ever found himself in the One Piece world, he would eliminate the little fiend.
However, after carefully reviewing the storyline, a wave of disappointment washed over him. Momonosuke wasn't supposed to be on Punk Hazard at this point in time.
He was only transported here two years after the main storyline began by Toki. Therefore, at this point, apart from the Wano samurai and Kaido, no one should know Momonosuke.
Of course, there was one other group who would – the Whitebeard Pirates. After all, Kozuki Oden had fathered a son and a daughter, Momonosuke and Hiyori, while residing on the Moby Dick.
As for Big Mom, it was hard to say. Zavia suspected she might be aware of Momonosuke's existence.
But that wasn't something he needed to worry about right now. He simply knew that Momonosuke wasn't here yet, and he was disappointed.
As for the current Momonosuke? Zavia had no idea where he was, whether he was alive, or even if he still existed in this timeline. Nor did he care. His hatred was reserved for the child version of Momonosuke. (P.S. Because so far, only the child version has appeared, not the grown-up one.)
With a slight shake of his head, Zavia pushed aside his disappointment. If he wasn't here, there was no point dwelling on it.
He unleashed his Observation Haki, enveloping the entire research facility. Within five seconds, he opened his eyes, having located Mihawk in the eastern section above, approximately 300 meters away.
Mihawk's aura was simply too distinct. As a powerhouse, his presence dwarfed everyone else in the facility; finding him was child's play.
The main reason, however, was Mihawk's lack of effort in concealing his presence. He considered himself the strongest being in this location. Such was the pride of the World's Greatest Swordsman.
…
"Is that all?" Mihawk stood in a vast chamber within the research facility, a small crucifix knife in his hand, he looked impassive.
"Damn it! Is this… the power of a Warlord?" Before him, a tall, slender woman with wavy green hair and golden eyes knelt on the ground, gasping for breath.
Her body was riddled with small cuts, her clothes dotted with bloody holes where the crucifix knife had pierced through, blood steadily flowing from the wounds.
She was Monet, one of Doflamingo's subordinates, known as the "Snow Woman." Fiercely loyal to Doflamingo, she believed only he was worthy of becoming the Pirate King.
"I told you, I'm only interested in what's behind that door. You didn't have to provoke me. The difference in our strength is simply too vast." Mihawk flicked a speck of snow from his shoulder, returned the crucifix knife to its small wooden sheath, and hung it around his neck.
The battle was over. His opponent was no longer capable of fighting.
"Hmm, I'm surprised you showed mercy. If it were me, she'd be dead." A teasing voice suddenly echoed through the chamber.
Mihawk turned to see a white-haired man in a blue trench coat, a sword at his hip, approaching. A small, cloaked figure accompanied him, its face hidden beneath the hood.
"Urizen, the 'Sword Demon'!! How is this possible!?" Monet stared at the newcomer with disbelief, as if his presence here was inconceivable.
"Hmph hmph hmph, why wouldn't it be? No one can stop me from going where I please. Unless… they're stronger than me." Zavia reached Mihawk's side, looking down at the battered Monet with a cold smile.
"The 'Sword Demon' Urizen and 'Hawkeye'… Damn it, what's happening on this island!?" Monet lowered her head, her bangs obscured her face as she fell deep in thought.
She had been in her office, helping Caesar Clown with paperwork, when she received an urgent call from him. Initially assuming it was a problem with the test subjects (the children), she was shocked to learn that Dracule Mihawk, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, had arrived on Punk Hazard.
The news was startling, but it also sparked a question: What was Hawkeye doing on Punk Hazard?
The thought was fleeting. She immediately ended the call and rushed to Mihawk's location, engaging him in battle. The outcome was predictable. And now, Urizen had arrived.
"Mihawk, what are you doing here?" Zavia asked.
"Nothing much. I'm simply curious about what's behind this door. For some reason, it emanates a rather peculiar aura." Mihawk gestured towards the iron door behind Monet.
"Hmm… SAD, is it? Hmph hmph hmph, what a disgusting thing." Zavia glanced at the door, lost in thought. Suddenly, it struck him. He knew what this place was. It was the SAD manufacturing facility that Law would attempt to destroy three years from now.
"SAD? What's that?" Hearing the unfamiliar term, Mihawk looked at Zavia with a questioning gaze.
"Well, there's no point hiding it. Have you heard of artificial Devil Fruits?"
"Emmm, vaguely."
"That thing is the key ingredient for creating artificial Devil Fruits. Without it, they can't be made."
"I see."
Zavia kept his explanation brief. Mihawk understood immediately.
"You! How did you find out about this!?" Monet, finally recovering from her shock, looked at Zavia with wide, accusing eyes.
"You don't need to know where I got my information. You should be grateful that you're still alive. If I were fighting you, it would have been over in an instant." Zavia glanced at the kneeling Monet, devoid of any emotion.
His gaze sent a shiver down Monet's spine, a chilling premonition of death. She knew he was serious. If they were to fight, it would be over in a flash, and the outcome would undoubtedly be her demise.
"Well, your life is Mihawk's to take. Whether you live or die is his decision. But if you try anything funny, I won't hesitate to take your head now."
Monet was drenched in cold sweat, her back soaked. Fear consumed her, overriding even the pain of sweat stinging her wounds. All she felt was the chilling embrace of death.
"Hmph hmph hmph, while I don't have Conqueror's Haki, killing intent is quite effective, isn't it?" Zavia chuckled coldly, watching Monet's petrified form.
"However, Caesar Clown, are you sure you want to continue watching? Do you not care whether this woman lives or dies? Aren't you afraid of Doflamingo's wrath?" Zavia's voice suddenly addressed the seemingly empty air.
Both Mihawk and Arthur looked at him in confusion. Then, a man with long, dark purple hair and ram-like horns emerged from a hidden door. It was Caesar Clown.
"Damn you, brat! You're despicable!" Caesar's face was livid. He didn't hesitate to hurl insults at Zavia, who simply shrugged them off, accustomed to such reactions.
"Despicable? And what about you, using children for your experiments? Why don't you call yourself despicable?"
"You—!!" Zavia's words struck a nerve, silencing Caesar. He couldn't deny the truth. Using children for experiments was indeed a morally reprehensible act.
"I'm doing it for science! For the future! Science demands sacrifice!!" After a long pause, Caesar finally retorted, resorting to the classic "science requires sacrifice" excuse.
Zavia didn't bother responding. There was no point arguing with such a fool.
One might argue that Caesar wasn't a fool, that he was a brilliant scientist who had worked alongside Vegapunk. And that was true. Caesar possessed undeniable talent.
However, Zavia's assessment was based purely on combat ability, not intellect. As far as Zavia was concerned, defeating Caesar would be a trivial matter.
First, Zavia's demonic physiology allowed him to survive without oxygen for extended periods. Second, Caesar, much like Crocodile in their first encounter, relied heavily on his Devil Fruit abilities, neglecting physical combat.
A single Soru or spatial teleportation would be enough for Zavia to decapitate Caesar before he could even react.
One might suggest that Caesar could use his Gas-Gas Fruit to release poisonous gas. But Zavia was immune to poison, thanks to his demonic constitution.
This wasn't a joke. If poison could kill Dante or Vergil, Mundus wouldn't have gone to such lengths to defeat them. Poisoning them would have been far simpler, quicker, and more effective, even tarnishing their reputation in the process – a double win.
Therefore, even Magellan, the warden of Impel Down, with his potent poisons, couldn't harm Zavia. His clothes might melt, but that was inconsequential.
"Well, I'm not interested in whether science requires sacrifice or not. I have one question: Where's that failed artificial Devil Fruit?"