With Vegapunk joining the World Government, a thunderous realization exploded in Judge's mind like a bolt of lightning.
"The ultimate weapon... it's a success!"
Standing before him was Carl, the embodiment of his once-grand vision for the ultimate weapon!
Recalling Carl's meteoric rise and terrifying strength since his name appeared on the world stage, Judge became increasingly convinced of this hypothesis.
Compared to Carl, the genetically modified creations Judge had been so proud of—Ichiji, Niji, Yonji, and even Reiju—were nothing but trash.
As for Sanji, Judge hadn't seen him in nearly a decade. His impression of Sanji was still stuck in childhood, where he deemed him a failure and not even worth mentioning.
But there was one thing Judge couldn't understand. If Carl truly benefitted from the lineage factor modification, why was he so brutal toward him now?
Carl's icy gaze locked onto Judge's eyes. Even now, thinking back to those days in the lab made his chest ache faintly.
Though the physical scars had long healed after his lineage factor awakened, the emotional scars remained etched in his heart.
In his memories of Earth, Carl detested those who claimed their suffering made them stronger, as if hardship deserved gratitude. What nonsense!
If suffering was a prerequisite for success, then what was the point of striving for a better future?
Vegapunk, at least, had value in Carl's eyes. Forced into the experiments by Darian, Vegapunk had once saved Carl's life during a critical moment. For that, he earned a reprieve.
But Judge? He was nothing.
A humming sound reverberated through the air as gravity and pressure twisted and contorted Judge's head. Blood streamed from his seven orifices, and his eyes popped from their sockets.
Witnessing this horrific scene, Galette and the others turned pale, their faces white as sheets. Even Borsalino couldn't help but mutter, "Kowai ne…"
Carl's control was meticulous. Despite the torment, Judge remained alive, his brain supplied with just enough blood to keep him conscious.
Unable to bear it any longer, Reiju shouted, "You monster! Stop this!"
Carl glanced at her, and with a thought, Judge's head exploded like a balloon. Blood and brain matter splattered onto Reiju's face. She nearly fainted.
Without sparing her another glance, Carl shifted his focus. His heightened perception detected the hostility Reiju had shown earlier, sealing her fate.
Borsalino spoke up at this point. "Fleet Admiral, what should we do with the rest?"
Since Carl's promotion to Fleet Admiral, Borsalino had referred to him by title during missions or in public. While Carl didn't care much about formalities, Akainu was strict about protocol.
"Discipline is the foundation of the military!" Akainu often said.
Carl replied curtly, "Execute them."
Without hesitation. A golden slash of light swept through the air, and four heads fell to the ground.
Despite the gruesome execution, there was no blood spray. The heat of the light blade cauterized their wounds instantly.
Borsalino, often underestimated, was no "kind-hearted gentleman."
The four bodies collapsed. Carl glanced at them and said, "Borsalino, strip their combat suits. They're valuable. Send them to Vegapunk for research and improvements."
Borsalino, familiar with Vegapunk after years of collaboration, smiled.
"Good idea. Their durability is impressive. If we could mass-produce them…"
Carl chuckled. "These suits were made with the best materials. Mass production might not be feasible, but if anyone can create a practical version, it's Vegapunk. Once we standardize them, our Marines will benefit significantly."
Borsalino was taken aback. "That'd be a huge expense, wouldn't it?"
"Money isn't an issue," Carl replied nonchalantly. "I'll apply for funding from the World Government. Once these suits are implemented, they'll drastically reduce casualties. The savings on compensation alone will justify the expense. And if necessary, we'll reallocate funds."
Carl's logic was sound, and his tone carried no guilt.
This was the world of pirates, and the Navy bore the brunt of the workload. Why shouldn't they get priority funding?
Borsalino, moved by Carl's dedication, thought to himself, This is what makes a good Fleet Admiral! Someone who leads by example, fights alongside us, and prioritizes his people. It's an honor to serve under him!
Looking at Carl's composed face, Borsalino said with a smirk, "Fleet Admiral, it's truly reassuring to have you at the helm."
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+250 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg