"Mr. Brook, you're suggesting installing a small screen on a Den Den Mushi? Like the display connected to a Den Den Mushi?"
A senior technician from the World Economy News Paper looked at Brook with a puzzled expression. In an Image Den Den Mushi, the one responsible for observing and recording was relatively small, while the one projecting images was much larger, requiring significant energy to sustain continuous transmission.
For example, during the Paramount War, the snail recording the battlefield was compact, while the one broadcasting the footage live to Sabaody Archipelago was much larger. The same applied to Impel Down—small snails were used for surveillance, as they were easier to conceal, while the ones displaying the footage in the monitoring room were much bigger.
"Yes, is it possible?" Brook asked.
"It's possible to install, but small Den Den Mushis simply don't have the stamina to project images for long before becoming exhausted and falling into dormancy."
The technician pointed out the limitation. The concept of using large Image Den Den Mushi for long-distance video communication already existed, but their range was limited. In most cases, a regular Communication Den Den Mushi was more practical—it could mimic human speech just as well.
Additionally, Den Den Mushi were fragile, lazy, and generally specialized in only one type of signal transmission or function. Juvenile Den Den Mushi, for instance, could only communicate over short distances, typically within the same island. Over time, selective breeding had refined their roles: those trained for photography lost their communication abilities and instead transmitted images via an external signal printer; those used for recording only captured footage, while projection snails were solely for display...
In short, these creatures were simple-minded and couldn't be overloaded with too many functions.
Still, the technician agreed to modify dozens of juvenile Den Den Mushi for Brook, attaching small screens to their shells via wired connections, similar to the receiver on a landline telephone.
When Brook saw the result, he thought it resembled an early touchscreen phone, connected internally by a cable and attached to the snail's shell.
As soon as one of the juvenile Den Den Mushi was fitted with the device, the screen flickered on for a few seconds before dimming.
Another juvenile Den Den Mushi, under Antonio's guidance, transmitted an image it had seen onto the screen via radio waves. The experiment was a success—but the snail quickly exhausted its energy and went into dormancy.
Its battery life was, frankly, abysmal.
...
Over the following days, Antonio trained the young Den Den Mushi in various skills, while Brook searched for rare leaves to feed them, testing different sources of nourishment. He experimented with feeding them Yarukiman Mangrove leaves, Sunlight Tree Eve leaves, and even the legendary Treasure Tree Adam leaves.
Through trial and error, he discovered the best food to enhance their endurance. Yarukiman Mangrove leaves could serve as a staple, allowing the screen to stay on for 30 minutes. Supplementing with a Sunlight Tree Eve leaf extended screen time to an hour. Feeding them Treasure Tree Adam leaves boosted their energy, enabling up to two hours of continuous operation.
Eventually, the juvenile Den Den Mushi were successfully cultivated into what Brook called "Mobile Den Den Mushi." These specialized snails abandoned video transmission to conserve energy, focusing instead on communication and text-based messaging.
...
Brook, Antonio, and Shakky each picked up a Mobile Den Den Mushi, using its screen to scribble messages.
Their handwriting appeared on each other's screens in real-time.
[Unit 2: Captain Brook, can you see what I wrote?]
[Unit 1: I see it.]
[Unit 3: This is amazing!]
Brook felt deeply satisfied. It was a crude, yet functional group chat—a small tribute to his past life.
"Captain, I want to change my unit number to my actual name."
Only Antonio, who could communicate with Den Den Mushi, was capable of instructing them to alter their displayed identifiers.
"Captain, this function seems pretty useless! We're already on the same ship, so we can just talk to each other. For anything else, we can use a Den Den Mushi. Reading text is too much of a hassle—who wants to write everything down?"
Shakky frowned as she examined the new mobile Den Den Mushi, feeling like it was a pointless invention.
Brook pondered for a moment. Without a massive user base, this device couldn't compare to the practicality of a regular Den Den Mushi for communication.
On top of that, feeding them those rare leaves would make widespread adoption nearly impossible. Not to mention, Den Den Mushi weren't something an average person could afford. Right now, the world still relied on the News Coo as the primary source of information.
Brook sighed, shelving the idea of advancing into the information age for now. Maybe it would come in handy someday.
Perhaps forming a guild would work? A fraternity of sorts? Distribute these Den Den Mushi to promising pirate captains and pull them into a private network!
Haki, swordsmanship, island locations, treasure maps... this had potential!
But right now, his strength wasn't formidable enough, his name not well-known enough—no one would take him seriously. And even if they did, who's to say these captains wouldn't just start fighting each other the moment they joined?
He made up his mind. Even if he handed these mobile Den Den Mushi to potential allies, they had to be captains he personally approved of. The chat group had to remain anonymous until he fully established himself.
After racking his brain and strategizing based on his past-life knowledge, Brook felt confident in the plan. This was more than fifty years before the current storyline—he didn't have the advantage of knowing future events. The best he could do was gather information and, above all, secure control over the World Economy News Paper, the ultimate source of intelligence.
...
Before he knew it, the next day had arrived.
"Captain Brook! The first Supernova of the year has just landed on Sabaody Archipelago! It's the captain of the Flying Pirates, Golden Lion Shiki, with a bounty of 440 million Belly! His ship can fly! The bounty poster says his Devil Fruit is the Float-Float Fruit—it lets him make anything float!"
Early in the morning, Shakky rushed over, excitedly delivering the latest intelligence to Brook.
"Golden Lion Shiki... now that's a familiar name. I wonder how strong he is right now."
The Float-Float Fruit was truly a broken ability—perfect for both offense and retreat. On top of that, Shiki was a dual-sword wielder. No wonder the Marines had placed such a high bounty on his head!
"Captain, should we head to the lawless district to check out this big shot?"
As an information hunter, Shakky couldn't resist the urge to witness such a legend in the making. Still, she knew to report her intentions to Brook first.
"Sure. Just don't cause trouble."
Brook decided to tag along. It wasn't every day he got to witness the early days of someone like Golden Lion Shiki.
...
In a bar deep within Sabaody's lawless district…
A man with long golden hair, a cigar between his lips, and two swords strapped to his waist raised a glass of strong liquor, looking every bit like a rising legend.
If not for his desire to visit the fabled Fish-Man Island, he would've just flown straight over the Red Line into the New World. There was no need to waste time waiting for his ship to be coated.
"Captain Shiki, you're the fastest Supernova to reach Sabaody this year! You're the strongest!"
One of the Flying Pirates' lackeys showered him with praise, hyping up their captain.
"Hah! My ship can fly! Who could possibly be faster than me? Hahaha!"
Golden Lion Shiki roared with laughter. He was only in his twenties, yet his bounty had already soared to 440 million Belly. This year, he was undoubtedly the strongest Supernova!
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+100 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg