"The Paramecia-type Nikyu Nikyu no Mi (Paw-Paw Fruit)!"
York looked at Zephyr with a beaming, confident smile. "The fundamental ability of this fruit is absolute repulsion! A conceptual, physical repulsion! It can repel solids, liquids, gases, fatigue, pain, injuries, heat, souls, slashes, cutting waves, shockwaves, and energy. Absolutely all matter or abstract energy is within its terrifying range of repulsion."
York leaned forward. "Therefore, theoretically, it can also actively repel the intangible memories from the human body."
"And as long as someone can safely receive the repelled memory-bubble, these memories will seamlessly transfer and will not return to the body from which they were repelled!"
Zephyr's pupils violently contracted. His previously downcast, despairing emotions surged with a massive, impossible wave of excitement. He subconsciously clenched his massive fists, completely unaware that his fingernails were digging deeply enough into his palms to draw blood.
He asked with a desperate, trembling voice, "Who is the user of this Devil Fruit?!"
York pursed his lips and smiled warmly. "It's Bartholomew Kuma. He was one of the duo who escorted the coffins of your wife and son earlier—the quiet, slightly chubby boy carrying the Bible standing next to Ginny!"
Zephyr was completely stunned. The image of the silent, gentle young man immediately flashed in his mind. At the time, on the beach, he had only noticed the boy's quiet demeanor and towering height, never once expecting him to be the wielder of such a rare, conceptually overpowered ability.
But the very next second, the desperate light in the Admiral's eyes dimmed again, and his unconsciously clenched fists slowly relaxed.
"But... how old is that child this year?" Zephyr asked bitterly. "Even if the ability's upper limit is as miraculously powerful as you say, with his current strength and mastery, he definitely can't achieve something so delicate and conceptual, right?"
York did not deny it. Instead, he walked over to the sterile experimental bench, picked up the clone cultivation progress chart that Judge had just printed, and gently traced the line indicating the 'Brain Nerve Development Cycle' with his fingertip.
"You're absolutely right. Kuma can't do it right now; after all, he's only fifteen this year."
"However, his innate talent is excellent, and he has already developed the fruit to the point where he can smoothly repel fatigue and pain—abilities that are already bordering on the conceptual realm." York tapped the paper. "According to his current, unguided growth rate, it might take him another ten years to fully Awaken the Devil Fruit ability to the level of flawlessly repelling memories."
"Of course... I know that specific growth rate certainly cannot meet your desperate requirements."
York's eyes locked onto Zephyr's. "After all, the genetic cloning experiment has already begun. Judge can successfully reunite you with the living, breathing bodies of your wife and son in a year at most. Even if the clone's biological progress is deliberately, artificially delayed, it will take no more than two years."
"You couldn't possibly be so cold and heartless as to live with these memory-less clones for eight years, only to sever that affection and 'overwrite' their entire identities ten years later, could you?"
York looked at Zephyr with a knowing smile, his manipulative subtext finally revealing his true, overarching intentions.
Zephyr's scarred face instantly turned deathly pale. York's last words were like an ice-tempered combat knife, precisely and brutally piercing the absolute most fragile defense in his broken heart.
He clenched his fists tightly again, his knuckles turning entirely white from the sheer effort, and his heavy breathing echoed in the lab.
Ten years? No! He absolutely couldn't wait ten years, nor could he ever accept the psychological horror of facing another agonizing separation and identity death after their "reunion."
He had just barely accepted the grim reality that the clones would have no memories... so why did this devil have to dangle the impossible hope that his family had the possibility of recovering their past memories and truly being resurrected?!
Ten years! Even if Kuma truly grew to the point where he could repel memories a decade from now, how could Zephyr—who would have lived with, raised, and loved the clones for eight years by then—forcefully overwrite the new souls they had developed?!
Zephyr's massive chest heaved violently. His hands, hanging heavily by his sides, repeatedly tightened and loosened. His palms were bleeding, but the physical sting was far less intense than the dull, agonizing pain tearing his heart apart.
"Why... why tell me all this?"
Zephyr's voice was hoarse, sounding as if it had been rubbed with coarse sandpaper. He looked up, his eyes entirely bloodshot. "What exactly is your true purpose?!"
In fact, Zephyr had already guessed it, but his pride didn't want to—or rather, was violently unwilling to—say it aloud. Years of strict Marine life and unyielding adherence to Absolute Justice, even after a deep period of ideological reflection in his sleep, would not allow him to easily defect to a pirate emperor.
"My purpose is actually very simple, Zephyr!"
York grinned widely, finally stating his true, imperial intention, which he had masterfully hidden until this exact breaking point.
"I want you to formally work for me and become the Chief Instructor of the Crimson Harvest Pirates!"
"I firmly believe that under your legendary guidance and brutal training, Kuma's development of his Devil Fruit ability will absolutely progress at a rapid, monstrous pace! Three years—no, maybe just two years—and he might reach the awakened level of repelling memories!"
"So! Make your choice, Admiral!"
York stepped forward, his aura flaring. "Will you stubbornly uphold the hypocritical 'Justice' in your heart, refuse to work for me, and ultimately spend your tragic old age with a pair of hollow clones—mere biological substitutes of the people you failed to protect?!"
"Or will you swallow your pride, work for my Empire, and truly, miraculously resurrect your wife and children! Allowing you the chance to truly compensate them for your past failures!"
York's devastating words echoed in the sterile laboratory like a block of ancient black ice, sending a terrifying chill down Zephyr's spine.
He looked into York's eyes, which were filled with an absolute sense of certainty. Two completely different, conflicting scenes instantly surged in Zephyr's mind. On one side was the familiar, billowing white cloak of 'Justice' from Marineford—the unyielding belief he had bled for most of his life. On the other side were the warm, smiling faces of his wife and son before their brutal murders, the uncanny familiarity of the genetic clones, the impossible possibility of "true resurrection" as York spoke of, and the agonizing obsession he clutched in his palm during his midnight terrors.
Complex thoughts, like colliding forces of ice and magma, warred fiercely in Zephyr's mind.
York was incredibly patient; he simply leaned against the wall and waited quietly. Judge, on the other hand, couldn't care less about the drama; he was already in the adjoining sterile room, obsessively carrying out the initial cellular work of the cloning process.
Time passed minute by agonizing minute.
Zephyr painfully, tightly closed his eyes. Then, he slowly raised his massive head, looking up at the sterile ceiling, and finally, with extreme difficulty, uttered a single, world-shattering word:
"Alright."
Zephyr opened his eyes, the Marine light in them permanently extinguished. "I'll work for you."
York finally showed a genuine, joyful smile. He stepped forward, extending his hand, and firmly shook Zephyr's massive hand.
"Don't worry! I won't make things ideologically difficult for you, Zephyr. The bloody wars with the Marines and the World Government are my business! You just need to be solely responsible for teaching the kids under my command, and in return, you can enjoy family happiness with your resurrected wife and son."
Zephyr lowered his head, gazing at their clasped hands. The cool, firm touch from the pirate Emperor's palm felt like a permanent brand, completely burning away his absolute last trace of attachment to Marine Justice. As a former Admiral, making such a monumental decision was undoubtedly painful and tormenting, but now that he had made it, he would no longer hesitate.
"I have three strict demands."
Zephyr's voice finally regained its commanding steadiness, though his fingertips still trembled slightly from his unresolved emotional adrenaline.
"First: during training, I must have absolute, unquestioned control over the teaching curriculum and discipline. No one, including you, may ever interfere with my methods."
"Second: before Kuma officially achieves the awakened ability to 'repel memories,' Judge must strictly follow my requirements to artificially delay the physical growth progress and consciousness solidification of the clones. I will personally review the cultivation data every half month."
"Third: I will only teach your crew combat techniques, Haki, and ability development. I will absolutely not step onto the battlefield or physically participate in any conflicts between the Crimson Harvest Pirates and the Marines or the World Government."
After listening to the terms, York unhesitatingly released his hand, turned around, and took out a pre-prepared, official contract from a drawer in the experimental bench. He picked up a fountain pen and swiftly, elegantly wrote down the exact three conditions Zephyr had just proposed.
At the very end, he even deliberately added a supplementary clause: "If the Crimson Harvest Pirates breach this contract in any manner, Zephyr may terminate the cooperation at any time and take his resurrected wife and children, and they shall not be obstructed by the Empire."
After writing it, York pushed the contract and the fountain pen across the metal table towards Zephyr.
"Take a careful look. If there are no issues, sign it. The contract is in duplicate, and we'll each keep a secure copy." York smirked. "Assuming I truly breach the contract in the future, you can take this paper and publish it in the global newspapers at any time, bankrupting the Crimson Harvest Pirates' credibility and my personal reputation!"
Zephyr picked up the contract and checked it meticulously, word by word. The handwriting on the paper was neat and clear, with no vague, tricky, or hidden clauses. Even highly specific details like "clone cultivation data must be confirmed by Zephyr" were clearly and legally marked.
He looked up at York, who was casually leaning against the experimental bench, playing with a blank mask in his hand. There was no hint of malicious calculation on the Emperor's face, but rather a sense of genuine relief at finally securing his prize.
Zephyr's hand, holding the fountain pen, paused for a fraction of a second, then he no longer hesitated and boldly signed his name at the bottom of the contract.
The black ink on the paper was like an absolute dividing line, completely severing his legendary "Marine career" and giving birth to his "new identity."
The contract was made in duplicate. After Zephyr and York each signed both copies, York tossed the mask he had been playing with to Zephyr.
"As a legendary former Admiral, even if both the Marine high command and I know full well that you've defected to my ranks, it's still tactically best to hide your face and identity when necessary. After all, the World Government completely controls the global news agencies, and their malicious smears can be quite disgustingly troublesome."
"Besides that..." York then pulled open another heavy drawer and took out a swirled Devil Fruit.
This was the Gasha Gasha no Mi (Clank-Clank/Combine-Combine Fruit), which Bullet and King had successfully snatched back from the treasury of the Pirate Expo. There was originally also the Riki Riki no Mi (Strength-Strength Fruit) in the vault, but York had already given that to Bullet to eat to enhance his monstrous physical power.
This Gasha Gasha no Mi was casually tossed through the air to Zephyr by York.
"In terms of guiding Devil Fruit abilities for my crew, there are always some distinct differences in perception between a non-ability user and an actual ability user. Eating it will be highly conducive to your teaching methodology."
York smiled. "Also, I don't restrict your freedom of movement. If you ever have personal matters and go out to sea, actively using a Devil Fruit ability is far more convenient for hiding your old identity than using your signature 'Black Arm' martial arts."
Zephyr caught the Gasha Gasha no Mi, his emotions surging complicatedly within.
For some reason, he recalled his early time in the Marines, where he didn't even learn the advanced Rokushiki training methods until he was twenty-eight years old. It was also at twenty-eight that he truly embarked on the path to becoming a recognized powerhouse.
Now, so many years later, talking about these things seemed to be mere hindsight. But York's absolute regard, investment, and trust still made a distinct touch of emotion rise within the veteran.
Zephyr looked at the fruit and said semi-jokingly, "Aren't you afraid of completely wasting such a high-tier Devil Fruit by casually giving it to me, a logistics instructor who is contractually destined not to appear on the front lines?"
"Not at all! Your strategic value to my Empire cannot possibly be measured by a mere Devil Fruit!"
York's answer was direct, pragmatic, and absolute, completely leaving Zephyr speechless.
The subsequent minor logistical matters were swiftly handled. Zephyr's permanent, luxurious residence was arranged by York directly inside the castle of the Mirro-World, located just a single door and a quick turn away from the entrance to the scientific research department, ensuring he could check on the clones daily.
In addition, York also thoroughly briefed Zephyr about the network of several specific mirrors that securely led to his various controlled islands in the real world.
A night passed. Zephyr spent a completely sleepless night, tossing and turning in his new bed. It wasn't that the living conditions weren't good enough; it was purely because of the overwhelming, intoxicating possibility of his wife and children truly being resurrected that his mind couldn't shut down.
The next day, York immediately noticed Zephyr's heavy distraction.
After casually asking if he had already eaten the Gasha Gasha no Mi, York invited the Admiral to step through a specific, ornate mirror. When Zephyr stepped through, he found himself transported to the Sky Island, located ten thousand meters above the Grand Line.
"This is..."
Zephyr looked in absolute, wide-eyed surprise at the paradise-like world of white sea clouds and dense jungle around him. The air was thin, but incredibly pure.
"Skypiea!" York replied with a proud smile, breathing in the air. "This is my first territory, and also exactly where you will be permanently teaching the recruits in the future."
York led Zephyr towards the dense southwest jungle of Upper Yard. "There's a massive training ground ahead that I specifically had prepared for extreme combat training."
DUANG! DUANG! DUANG!
Just as York's voice fell, a distant, breathtakingly beautiful, and profound bell suddenly rang out across the clouds, and Zephyr couldn't help but turn his head in shock to look toward the northeast.
"That's the ruins of Shandora, the Golden City," York explained casually. "The majestic bell sound you just heard is the legendary Golden Bell."
"The Golden City? The Golden Bell?!"
Zephyr was profoundly surprised. As a highly educated Admiral, he naturally knew about the famous North Blue fairy tale of Noland the Liar. "Isn't all of that just a fabricated fake?!"
"The Golden City and the Golden Bell are absolutely real!" York briefly, fluidly explained the true, tragic history of Sky Island and the Knock Up Stream to Zephyr.
Listening to York's casual narration, Zephyr couldn't help but sigh heavily inwardly.
'I completely underestimated him. I didn't expect York to have already become so deeply, strategically powerful!' Zephyr thought, looking at the sprawling empire in the clouds. 'His true base of operations is not the New World, as the Marine high command desperately believes, but this completely uninhabited, unreachable Sky Island tens of thousands of meters high!'
'With such a strategically important, resource-rich, and physically hard-to-attack treasure... no wonder York dares to constantly, arrogantly oppose the Marines in the New World. It turns out he isn't afraid of a Buster Call at all! Even if his entire territory in the New World is completely wiped out by Sengoku, he can calmly retreat to the sky to recuperate and return at any time.'
Zephyr did not voice his inner, strategic thoughts, nor did he even entertain the opportunity to somehow inform the Marines of this massive intelligence failure. He was no longer a Marine Admiral. He was now the Chief Instructor of the Crimson Harvest Pirates!
Furthermore, York's absolute trust in him—bringing him to the Empire's greatest secret on day one—made his honorable nature unable to do such a treacherous thing. What's more, his wife and children were still technically in York's hands, whether deceased or in the miraculous process of being resurrected. With his absolute greatest weakness held by York, he couldn't and wouldn't easily betray him.
As they talked and walked through the jungle, they arrived at the aforementioned massive clearing.
This clearing was located on the dense southwest side of Upper Yard. It was perfectly square-shaped, exactly one thousand meters long and wide, leveled by sheer force. A row of sturdy, two-story stone buildings lined the edge, mainly used for securely storing heavy training equipment and emergency medical supplies.
In addition, there were secure mirrors inside these stone buildings that led directly back to the Mirro-World. If anyone got severely injured during brutal training, they could directly return to the Mirro-World through these mirrors, where the advanced medical department was just a quick turn out of the teleportation room.
The strategic reason York didn't just take Zephyr directly through the mirrors inside these stone houses in the first place was precisely to let Zephyr get a macro-level look and become more acquainted with the environment of Sky Island.
Now that the two of them had arrived at the perimeter, the "little ones" had already begun their grueling, daily morning training in the center of the massive field.
Emporio Ivankov, Ginny, Bartholomew Kuma, Olga, Marshall D. Teach, Enel, Douglas Bullet, and King were all sweating profusely. Besides these core interns and reserve Vanguards, Hanafuda and Magha—two experienced mid-level cadres—were also present on the field.
When York, Kaido, and Dragon were all unavailable due to geopolitics, Hanafuda and Magha temporarily served as the strict instructors for the little ones' daily morning training.
Purely in terms of raw, destructive combat power, Hanafuda and Magha were actually already starting to be a bit outmatched by the sheer monstrous potential of Bullet and King. But they were ultimately older, possessed richer theoretical knowledge of Haki, and had real sea experience, so guiding these little monsters was no problem for now.
Of course, now that the legendary "Black Arm" Zephyr was here, there was absolutely no need for them to pretend to be master instructors anymore.
York stepped onto the field and loudly clapped his hands twice, the sound echoing like a gunshot.
"Alright, you little monsters, gather round!!" York commanded with a grin. "Today, I'm officially introducing you to a brand new instructor!"
York stepped aside, revealing the towering, imposing figure of the former Admiral. "From now on, this man will be primarily, absolutely responsible for your daily hell!!"
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Give me powerstones.
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