At that moment, Elior extended an invitation to Vegapunk.
He made his intentions clear—he wanted Vegapunk to work for him.
Of course, Elior already knew that Vegapunk would never willingly devote his life to anyone. The invitation was simply a gesture—a courtesy before the inevitable.
If persuasion didn't work, force would.
"Work for you?" Vegapunk frowned. Elior's tone made it obvious—this wasn't about cooperation; it was about allegiance.
Just like how the Gorosei once "requested" that he serve the World Government.
"I'm quite content working under the World Government," Vegapunk replied, shaking his head in quiet defiance.
Volunteering was impossible. No other force in the world could provide him with as many scientific resources as the Government. And above all, the World Government was stable—unshakable, eternal.
Vegapunk was a man of science. Nothing else mattered to him. Working for a pirate—no matter how powerful—was unthinkable.
Although the Celestial Dragons were corrupt and cruel, the world itself was already steeped in black and white. To Vegapunk, it made little difference.
Still, he suspected Elior wouldn't take rejection lightly. If diplomacy failed, coercion would surely follow.
Elior, however, had expected this answer all along. The offer was merely a formality.
He gazed at Vegapunk, his sharp eyes locking onto the scientist's trembling form. His Observation Haki brushed against Vegapunk's aura—it was surprisingly potent, far stronger than Judge's or Caesar's.
But still, nowhere near enough to matter.
Their eyes met.
Vegapunk felt the tension spike. He assumed Elior was about to attack and readied himself to defend. He even considered releasing one of his secret toxins—anything to delay until help could arrive.
But before he could act, Elior's eyes gleamed.
He released an Absolute Command.
Vegapunk's mind went blank. His body froze as the invisible force crushed his will.
For ten silent seconds, his consciousness struggled against it—but resistance was futile.
When he blinked again, the world had shifted. His thoughts were no longer his own. Loyalty to Elior had been etched deep into his very soul.
He turned toward Elior, bowed deeply, and knelt on one knee.
"From now on," Elior said, his voice calm and absolute, "address me as King."
His tone was serene yet carried the weight of command that could shake the heavens.
"Yes, my King," Vegapunk said reverently. "I shall follow your will in all things."
Elior crossed his arms. "Vegapunk, what experiments are you conducting at the moment?"
He glanced toward the massive form on the nearby table—the real Bartholomew Kuma, not a Pacifista replica.
Vegapunk replied at once, his tone formal and respectful:
"I've completed the Living Human Weapon project. However, further refinements are required. Once perfected, I can create human weapons far stronger than the current Pacifistas. Each one will possess power on par with a Rear Admiral."
"The power of a Rear Admiral?" Elior raised an eyebrow. "That's… impressive."
If every Pacifista truly held that level of strength, they'd be an unstoppable army—true weapons of war.
"And what's the success rate?" Elior asked.
"For me, it's one hundred percent, my King. It's only a matter of time."
Elior smiled faintly. "You truly are the scientist five centuries ahead of your time."
"Thank you for your praise, my King!"
Elior's tone hardened. "Besides that, what other major experiments are you conducting—or planning to?"
Vegapunk bowed again. "I am preparing to begin the Human Gigantification Project. If successful, it will allow me to create an army of giant warriors. They won't match high-level combatants in technique, but their sheer power will make them formidable. The animal gigantification tests have already succeeded—the human trials are next."
Elior's expression darkened slightly. He recognized this project from his knowledge of Punk Hazard. It hadn't yet begun—but it soon would.
He frowned. "You're using the genes of the Ancient Giants, aren't you?"
"Yes," Vegapunk confirmed. "I discovered traces of their genetic code. The Ancient Giants were beings of immense strength and longevity—nearly invincible. By reconstructing their lineage, I can bring them back."
"Tell me about your other experiments," Elior ordered.
Vegapunk nodded and listed them one by one.
"There's the Weaponized Devil Fruit Project—I'm developing a process to fuse Devil Fruit powers into inanimate weapons. The Zoan-type models have succeeded, but Paramecia, Logia, and Mythical Zoan types remain unstable. I've paused those to focus on higher-priority research."
"There's also the Bloodline Factor Project, though much of the data was stolen by Judge Vinsmoke. I retain fragments, but key results are lost."
"Another ongoing study, commissioned directly by the Gorosei, is the Monster Project—to create artificial life using the blood of Big Mom, Kaido, and you, my King. The intent is to synthesize perfect living weapons. Kaido's blood has already been secured from his prior captures."
"Lastly," Vegapunk hesitated, "there's the Multi-Fruit Ability Project—a theory born from observing you, my King. I suspect you possess more than one Devil Fruit ability. To test it, I would require a sample of your blood."
Elior's gaze sharpened. "Interesting."
Vegapunk continued humbly, "Aside from these, there are smaller experiments—Strength Enhancement Serums and temporary power amplifiers. One formula works but causes dangerous side effects. The perfected version remains elusive."
Elior absorbed it all in silence.
The scope of Vegapunk's work was staggering. Beyond the known Pacifista program, he was also developing projects sanctioned by the Gorosei themselves—plans to create living monsters from the blood of the world's most fearsome beings.
Big Mom, Kaido… and himself.
No wonder the Government considered Vegapunk irreplaceable.
But now, he was Elior's.
Only Elior knew of this new allegiance.