Wearing sunglasses and a checkered shirt, the man before Oran was the director of MADS—Vegapunk, a genius scientist who, years later, would be hailed as being five hundred years ahead of the world.
Not long ago, while Judge and Queen had gone off on their own, Vegapunk had also arrived at the Sorbet Kingdom's newly built smelting plant.
Vegapunk sensed a discordance. The entire smelting plant's aesthetic clashed with the Sorbet Kingdom's, both in technology and architectural style.
While ordinary MADS researchers negotiated fees with the local workers, Vegapunk, after some inquiries, found Oran, who was providing technical guidance at the facility.
"Hello, I'm Vegapunk, director of MADS. I heard this place was built under your guidance. It's an impressive approach."
Oran remembered Vegapunk well. Many invention projects were tied to him.
Though much of his technology was replicated from ancient texts, that itself was a feat. Research wasn't as simple as glancing at documents and immediately putting them into practice.
For one, in the original timeline, the artificial Devil Fruits Vegapunk created were leagues above the inferior ones produced by Caesar.
The current Vegapunk hadn't yet earned such fame or achievements, but more than his future deeds, his oversized head caught Oran's attention.
"Strange, isn't it? I'm the user of the Brain-Brain Fruit, so my head's a bit… large."
The Paramecia-type Brain-Brain Fruit granted the user an infinitely expandable brain capacity, a valuable asset for researchers.
Oran wasn't opposed to Devil Fruits. These were among the sea's most mysterious entities, often providing significant advantages. Kuma's Paw-Paw Fruit had already been a great help to Oran.
Oran himself was interested in several Devil Fruits, such as the Swallow-Swallow Fruit, which was on his list. With it, material limitations would be entirely resolved.
Other powerful or conceptually unique fruits also piqued his interest, but there was little chance of encountering them in the Sorbet Kingdom.
"No big deal. I've seen weirder people than you.
I'm Cidril Oran, technical advisor here."
After a brief introduction, the two casually delved into technical topics, their research perspectives from different worlds intertwining. It was then that Kate's call reached Oran.
"Didn't you just say you're the director of MADS?"
"MADS isn't a particularly formal organization. Members have a lot of freedom. I can come with you to check it out. If they've caused you trouble, I'll handle it."
MADS was more like a salon for science enthusiasts, where members researched shared interests and exchanged experiences without a strict hierarchy.
Vegapunk's ability to manage others stemmed from controlling funds. Due to trust issues, Du Feld had entrusted Vegapunk with financial oversight. If someone caused trouble, Vegapunk could cut their research budget.
Science was a money-burning endeavor, and without the organization, most couldn't sustain themselves, which kept MADS relatively stable.
"Trouble? Maybe not, but let me be clear—I'm not paying any medical bills."
Kate had explained clearly that the other party started the conflict. In such a case, Oran found it reasonable even if Blitzcrank had activated its annihilation mode, let alone just roughing them up.
Vegapunk merely nodded silently. This was an unspoken rule in MADS: high member autonomy came with the caveat that if someone caused a major mess, others wouldn't share the burden.
The distance from here to Blitzcrank's fishing spot wasn't short. Even leaving immediately after the call, it took time to get there.
By the time Oran arrived, noon had turned to dusk. Under the sunset's glow, three figures dashed along the beach—Blitzcrank's first long run since its creation, and a youthful memory some would rather forget.
"How… is this thing's energy not running out?!"
"How should I know? You're the idiot who caused this!"
Blitzcrank trailed closely behind Judge and Queen, maintaining an ambiguously close distance—neither crushing them nor letting them escape. If they slowed, they'd feel the sting of an electrified iron fist.
From the steam venting from Blitzcrank's back, Queen and Judge deduced it was steam-powered. They figured outlasting its fuel would mean victory, but Blitzcrank's endurance far exceeded their expectations.
After all, the Hextech Crystal was Blitzcrank's true energy core. Depleting it was unrealistic.
"Blitzcrank can chase you all day!"
This was a result of its learning module. Oran had only programmed basic operations, so Blitzcrank essentially lacked emotions. Anger and irritation were merely threatening tones.
Blitzcrank's actions stemmed from its code determining that the opponents' behavior warranted a lesson. Having spent much time with Kate, Blitzcrank had adopted some feline traits, like toying with prey.
"Blitzcrank, that's enough."
The voice was soft, but Blitzcrank's sensors picked it up. It immediately halted, returning to Oran and Kate's side. Relieved, Queen and Judge collapsed onto the sand, gasping for air.
"Master, Blitzcrank awaits instructions."
"Operate freely in the area. Stand by for orders."
"Understood."
Blitzcrank lumbered off, assisting Kate with processing the day's catch. If left unattended, the fish would soon spoil.
"It's hard to believe. Can it really execute such vague commands?"
Vegapunk was seeing a robot with such high intelligence for the first time. His own robotic creations required extremely precise instructions to avoid misinterpretation.
Tell them to buy a bamboo stick, and who knows what they'd bring back.
But Blitzcrank was different. If tasked with buying bamboo now, it would select the most suitable stick for the situation.
"Since it calls you Master, I assume it's your creation. Mind sharing the thought process behind its development?"
A spark of curiosity ignited in Vegapunk. For someone like him, unknown technology was irresistibly alluring.
"I just made slight improvements on existing technology, standing on the shoulders of giants. No big deal."
"Standing on giants' shoulders—a fitting metaphor. Isn't that how science progresses, generation by generation?
Mr. Cidril, would you be interested in joining MADS?"