Chapter 158: Taboo Refinement! (For Automatic Subscription!)
Caesar Clown—formerly known as Caesar Courant—a deranged genius expelled from the World Government's scientific division, MADS, and the twisted creator of SAD and SMILEs, now stood soaked in sweat, the moisture glistening on his forehead and smearing his trademark purple lipstick.
This was the same man who had once dared to defraud Big Mom by faking research on gigantification. Sure, he performed experiments—abducting dozens of innocent children and subjecting them to size-altering chemicals under the pretense of science—but in the end, he knew full well that the goal of true gigantification was impossible with his limited expertise. It had all been a con.
And yet now, that same man was silently, obediently completing the assignment given to him by Solomon Carl—the very monster whose reputation rivaled that of the Admirals.
"That, um, Vice Admiral Oak Dragon, all your requested materials are ready," Caesar forced a strained smile as he turned, his voice trembling with poorly concealed fear.
"Mm. Then go ahead and release 'Dead Nation,'" Carl replied calmly, not even turning his gaze from his current subject—Kozuki Momonosuke, the child heir of Wano, who had already ingested Vegapunk's artificial Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit, modeled after Kaido's Uo Uo no Mi, Model: Seiryu.
Carl spoke casually, but there was an edge beneath his tone. "I'll take care of this kid."
"Yes—yes sir!" Caesar saluted instinctively and shuffled backward.
The so-called 'Dead Nation' was not some weaponized chemical formula, but a grotesque mass of sentient gas slimes, created by Caesar and merged with a Salamander SMILE, giving it a beastly and unpredictable nature. Though pseudo-Logia in appearance, these monsters had a fatal flaw—just like Caesar's own Gasu Gasu no Mi—they were weak to water.
Normally, these slimes were housed in the Land of Fire, an area scorched into volcanic plains by Akainu's Magma-Magma powers during his marine campaign. On the opposite side of the island, the Land of Ice, created by Aokiji, served as an effective containment zone. Water and ice rendered the slimes dormant.
Caesar, clutching his lab coat, tiptoed toward the steel-reinforced lab exit. His pupils darted back and forth, scheming in silence: If I could just escape while the monster's distracted… wouldn't that be ideal?
After all, even if Carl was terrifying—even if he tore through the Beasts Pirates like a natural disaster—there was no way he could match the elemental mobility of a Logia user… right?
Caesar's heart pounded with excitement the farther he walked.
No one followed. Not Carl. Not even Yamato, the mysterious woman always nearby.
The moment seemed perfect.
Finally, he reached the main doors of the institute, rubbing his hands with glee. "Heh," he cackled, pushing them open, already imagining the sweet taste of freedom.
pat—
What awaited him outside, however, stopped him cold.
Cherry blossom petals drifted lazily across the island, painting the battlefield in delicate hues of pink. The entire island seemed cloaked in the beauty of a fleeting spring.
But to Caesar, it was a waking nightmare.
Each blossom, each swirl of wind, seemed to hum with killing intent. The entire world outside looked like a stage set for a massacre—and he, the guest of honor.
Carl had already arranged the trap.
There was no escape.
Caesar sighed heavily and slumped his shoulders, floating glumly in the direction of the Land of Fire. His pride as a Logia user meant nothing now.
He was no Kizaru, no Smoker, not even Crocodile.
He was just a pathetic gas-man, ranked in infamy alongside "Wet-Haired" Caribou, and no one feared them for a reason.
Inside the Research Institute
Carl hung Momonosuke's unconscious body from a restraint module and leaned in, lifting the child's eyelid with one gloved hand.
"What are you doing?" Yamato asked, her expression confused but curious.
"Well…" Carl exhaled slowly, tapping his temple. "I'm trying to create a warrior. A very powerful one."
"A warrior?" Yamato tilted her head. "Like the Givers?"
She immediately recalled the Givers—those altered warriors of the Beasts Pirates who'd consumed defective SMILE fruits. Their animal features were semi-permanent and grotesquely randomized, but they were still a core part of Kaido's forces.
Carl shook his head. "No, something beyond that."
A faint glow lit his crimson right eye. Within it, the digital sigil of the number '6' shimmered.
"If anything," he said, "this is more in line with the Pacifista projects from Marine HQ."
[Tenjindo]—Activate!
A pulse of invisible spiritual energy rippled outward.
hum—
Momonosuke's limbs twitched. His body moved.
"Manipulating a kid's body feels strange," Carl muttered, clicking his tongue. "Too delicate… too limited."
It had been a long time since Carl used [Tenjindo], the spiritual command system integrated with his Ancient Weapon-based neural interface. Unlike [Hungry Kidō], which allowed direct, visceral possession—especially when applied to entities like Kuma—this was more like operating a puppet.
With Kuma, it felt like Carl was immersed inside a virtual cockpit, commanding a titan with fluidity and full motor control.
But now? Controlling Momonosuke was like using an old PSP console, his inputs laggy and the feedback disjointed.
Still, it was enough.
He didn't need finesse. Only results.
"Transform," he commanded coldly.
Momonosuke's body stretched—
In midair, the young heir's form elongated and twisted, shimmering with an unnatural pink glow. Within seconds, he had fully transformed—his body replaced by a large pink-scaled Eastern dragon, coils gliding across the floor like mist.
Yamato's jaw dropped.
"This is…" she gasped, eyes wide with shock.
There was no mistake. This was her father Kaido's power. The serpentine body, the storm-cloud mane, the vapor that curled around his antlers—
The shape wasn't as large. The aura wasn't as overwhelming.
But there was no denying it.
It was a dragon.
A real, living dragon. And that made Momonosuke, in this moment…
…something truly terrifying.
Yes, just as you thought." Carl's lips curled into a cool smile. "The Devil Fruit this guy consumed was created by mimicking Kaido's power… the Mythical Zoan-type: Fish-Fish Fruit, Model Azure Dragon."
Kaido's overwhelming strength, enhanced by the abilities of this mythical creature, had long since shocked the world. Not only could he shift into a massive eastern dragon, but he could also summon flame-like clouds, fly, and generate destructive wind and fire attacks with ease. It was a level of power that both Donquixote Doflamingo and Caesar Clown had desperately craved for their own twisted ambitions.
Whether it was Doflamingo's intention to sell such fruits through the underworld to empower warlords—or Caesar's own deranged desire to prove his scientific prowess—they both longed to reproduce the power of a Yonko. Hence, this special artificial Devil Fruit was developed… the very same one that Momonosuke had unintentionally consumed, created during Punk Hazard's darkest experiments.
Carl casually waved his hand, sending the mutated dragon-form test subject crashing into the open field before him. A gleam of satisfaction danced in his eyes.
"This fruit's potential is incredible. In truth, there are no weak Devil Fruits—only weak users. Take Whitebeard's Gura Gura no Mi, for instance. It's often called the strongest Paramecia-class fruit in existence. With it, he could crack the air and generate planet-level tremors. People said it could destroy the world… and in his hands, it almost did."
Carl turned, cigar in hand. "But give that same fruit to a nobody… and they'd struggle to collapse even a hut."
He gestured lazily. "However, certain fruits—especially the ones wielded by the Four Emperors, the Admirals, or ancient monsters like Shiki the Golden Lion—have upper limits far beyond the ordinary. Their destructive capacity isn't just due to personal strength… it's because the fruits themselves are monsters."
At that moment, Caesar Clown returned, his slick figure sneaking around the corner like a rat sensing danger, his exaggerated grin plastered across his face.
The expression on Carl's face didn't change. "Back so soon?" he asked lightly, exhaling smoke. "I thought you might have used the chance to disappear."
Caesar froze mid-step, his grin twitching. "Ehh… Vice Admiral! You're quite the joker! Me, run? It's an honor to serve you!"
Trying to deflect attention, Caesar gestured wildly behind him. "L-Look! I've already brought out the 'Land of the Dead'—just as requested!"
Hwooosh—
A frigid draft swept into the room, followed by a low, unsettling gurgle.
GLOOP—GLOOP—
A giant, grotesque mass squeezed itself in through the compound entrance—its blobby body flickering like a mirage. Poisonous gas curled around it like a suffocating mist.
"So it really is a slime," Carl muttered, raising one eyebrow.
This monstrous creature looked like a gelatinous blob—but it wasn't made of water. It was a toxic gas entity compressed into a semi-solid state, pulsing ominously like some cursed relic of science gone wrong.
Caesar shuffled forward nervously, sweat pooling on his forehead. "U-uh, Vice Admiral Oak Dragon, what do you want me to do with it?"
Because even in this choking atmosphere, neither Carl nor the silent, silver-haired woman beside him seemed bothered. They stood unphased, as if the very air obeyed them.
At that moment, all escape thoughts left Caesar's mind.
Carl glanced at him coolly. "Send it to the material pile."
"Y-Yes!" Caesar jumped, scrambling to obey.
In front of the control chamber was a massive arcane device, covered in gauges, steel coils, and observation tubes. Around it, a veritable mountain of materials had been gathered—beast meat, stone, wood, rare metals like carbon steel—everything Caesar had hoarded under the flag of Doflamingo and later Big Mom.
He had emptied everything to avoid Carl's wrath.
GLOOP—GLOOP—
The poisonous slime shuffled obediently toward the glowing pod under Caesar's commands.
"Excellent." Carl nodded. With a soft wave of his fingers, the pink-scaled dragon on the floor lifted off like it was weightless, hovering into the device and settling into the very center.
BOOM!
Carl's figure blurred—suddenly reappearing in front of the machine. He pressed a single palm flat against the outer casing.
HUMMMMM—
Scarlet symbols radiated from his touch—ancient runes and intricate geometric patterns illuminating the entire machine surface like a web of red lightning.
"This is…" Caesar's jaw dropped. "A forbidden technique… [Alchemy]!?"
"Refine it."
Carl's crimson eyes shimmered, lightning crackling faintly in their depths. His brain operated like a supercomputer, hundreds of calculations firing at once.
True Alchemy wasn't brute strength—it was mental acuity. A profound understanding of matter: to break it down, and reshape it at will.
Inside the machine, everything began to twist, melt, and morph. Not a single movement could be seen from the outside.
Then—
ROOOAR!!
A shriek of pain and fury burst out from the slime creature—but it was silenced as swiftly as it came.
Carl stood silently, one hand still pressed against the device, the other pulling a cigar from his coat. A tiny flame flickered to life.
This time… he wasn't making a weapon.
He was undergoing taboo experimentation—the kind whispered about in the dark corners of the world: human-body refinement.
Even for him, it demanded extreme focus.
Time passed.
Finally, Hoo—
Carl exhaled a heavy plume of smoke and removed his hand. "It's done."
The red light vanished, and the glowing circuit patterns faded from the machine's shell.
With a hiss of steam, the top of the device slowly opened—
PSSSSSHHH—
Clouds of smoke and vapor billowed outward, as if a demon had just been unsealed.
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