Kyle's gaze shifted from the ecstatic Vegapunk to Mihawk, who was still leaning against the tree, appearing completely detached from the world-altering conversation.
"Now that the boss has shared his big idea, his subordinates can't just sit around doing nothing," Kyle said with a friendly smile as he walked over to the swordsman.
Mihawk's sharp, hawk-like eyes opened, and the corner of one twitched almost imperceptibly. He could see the familiar glint of mischief in Kyle's smile and knew exactly where this was going.
"Don't look so tense, Hawkeyes," Kyle said, clapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity that clearly irritated the swordsman. "It's just a drop of blood. It'll be over in a second, I promise it won't hurt."
Mihawk said nothing. He didn't resist, but the deep scowl on his face was a clear sign of his silent protest.
Ignoring the accusing stare, Kyle quickly and skillfully took a drop of blood, using his Devil Fruit power to make it hover in the air before guiding it over to Vegapunk, who had already scurried closer.
"Here you go, Doctor. One more for the collection."
Vegapunk carefully accepted the second test tube, his eyes glinting behind his glasses like he was processing streams of data. "Mihawk-san's Lineage Factor… If we combine his incredible eyesight and innate talent for swordsmanship with the genes of the Lunarian race… Incredible! This would create the perfect swordsman!"
Kyle nodded, satisfied, as he watched the scientist get lost in his own brilliant imagination. "Oh, and speaking of projects, Vegapunk, I have an old antique here I was hoping you could help me modify."
As he spoke, Kyle's right hand made a gripping motion at his waist, as if drawing a pistol from an invisible holster. The air around his hand shimmered and distorted for a moment. When the light settled, a classic, ornate flintlock pistol materialized in his grasp. The body of the gun was crafted from gold and ivory, engraved with intricate patterns. It was Gol D. Roger's personal firearm, "Ann."
"This was Roger's gun," Kyle said, casually tossing it in his hand with a hint of disdain. "Unfortunately, he mostly used it as a fancy lighter. The only action it saw was when he'd shoot a seagull out of the sky for a snack."
In a world dominated by legendary swordsmen, firearms often felt like an afterthought.
Vegapunk adjusted his glasses. He immediately recognized the historical significance of the weapon, but he was far more interested in Kyle's idea for it.
"If it's possible, I'd like to change how it fires. Maybe… electromagnetic propulsion, or something like that. My own abilities could come in handy," Kyle explained, a playful gleam in his eyes.
He imagined it: special Sea Prism Stone bullets, coated in his own Haki, launched at an impossible velocity by an electromagnetic coil. Could anyone react to that? A wicked grin spread across his face. No more moving for you, Devil Fruit users. When he got tired of fighting up close, he could just use his Haki to lock onto some poor fool a hundred kilometers away and… biu. One little Sea Prism Stone bullet, and it wouldn't matter if they were a Logia or a Mythical Zoan; their powers would be gone in an instant. Being a schemer was so much more relaxing than chasing people down to fight.
"Electromagnetic propulsion! Splendid!" Vegapunk exclaimed, looking even more excited than Kyle. His massive head leaned in closer. "What a fantastic idea! We could install a miniature power core from the Ark Maxim, add a variable trajectory prediction system, use beta particles for energy amplification, and we could even…"
A flood of technical terms that Kyle didn't understand poured from Vegapunk's mouth.
"Ah… haha, yes," Kyle said, quickly holding up a hand to stop him. "Doctor, everything you just said is exactly what I was thinking. I trust you completely. Just make it as powerful and as easy to use as possible." Pretending to understand before handing the problem off to a professional was one of Kyle's greatest talents.
Vegapunk's excitement cooled slightly as reality set in. He pushed his glasses up his nose, a troubled look on his face. "But, Kyle-san… both the development of the Seraphim and the complete modification of this weapon will require enormous funding. Not to mention a completely independent laboratory. The funds I get from the World Government… well, you know. There are too many people watching."
The air fell silent. It was a very real problem. Even the greatest ideas in the world needed money to become reality. Dragon hesitated, wanting to say something, but the Revolutionary Army was barely staying afloat as it was. They could never fund research on this scale.
Kyle, however, just stood there for a moment in thought. An image of his butler, Caron, with his sharp jawline and the brick-thick financial reports he always carried, flashed through his mind. The Shambles' vast network of underworld entertainment, gambling, funeral services, arms dealing… Caron, that business genius, had turned those gray industries into a terrifying money-printing machine. An astronomical amount of Berries flowed into Kyle's accounts every single day.
Thinking of this, a subtle smirk formed on Kyle's lips. He looked up, first at the hopeful Vegapunk, then at the troubled-looking Dragon.
"Money?" he said softly, with a perfect touch of casual dismissal. "Money is the easiest problem in this world to solve."
He spread his hands wide in a sincere-looking gesture. "To be honest… I'm not really that interested in Berries."
Vegapunk just stared. Dragon looked confused. Even Mihawk paused for a second while wiping his black blade.
"Doctor, you just focus on the research," Kyle's tone became magnanimous, like a wealthy patron from a novel. "Labs, equipment, materials, staff… I'll cover all the expenses. I'll have my butler set up an unlimited account for you. All you have to do is turn these ideas into reality."
After a moment, he turned to Dragon, who had remained silent. "And the same goes for you."
Dragon's head snapped up, his eyes wide with astonishment.
"A revolution isn't a dinner party. Without money, you can't do anything," Kyle said, his gaze calm and direct. "Rallying the public, setting up bases, buying weapons, gathering intelligence—all of it costs a fortune."
He looked Dragon straight in the eye. "What you're doing is the most expensive and important project in the world. So, don't be polite with me."
Kyle's voice echoed across the ruins of Ohara, clear and powerful. "Name your price. I'm investing in your revolution."
By the lake, the giants continued their work, unaware that a transaction that would change the course of history had just been settled with a few simple words. Dragon's heart pounded in his chest. He stared at Kyle's relaxed smile and found himself completely speechless. And just like that, a pirate who ruled the underworld had casually struck a deal with the leader of the Revolutionary Army and the world's greatest scientist.
Of course, Kyle knew that even with Caron's genius, the profits from the Shambles' current territory had a limit. It was time to expand the business. Caron was already managing so much, and Kyle himself preferred to keep his hands clean. He needed to find someone else, a special kind of talent who was an expert at managing the darker, dirtier side of the underworld.
His mind began to turn. Now, where could I find someone like that? he wondered. It's such a difficult question, isn't it, Doffy?
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