While Oran arranged his follow-up plans, others on the MADS ship were scheming new projects.
"Shurororo, did you two fall into a native hunter's trap or what? How'd you get so pathetic?"
Judge and Queen, chased by Blitzcrank for half the day, finally returned to the ship, only to be greeted by a snarky voice.
A man with slick black mushroom hair, a flat nose, and horns sprouting from his head mocked them.
Caesar Clown, another MADS member, currently the moral bottom line of the group—or rather, his lack of a bottom line defined him. Though he hadn't yet sunk to his lowest, the signs were there.
When it came to narcissism, he rivaled the others. Like Queen and Judge, Caesar believed himself superior to Vegapunk and looked down on everyone else.
Seeing Queen and Judge in such a sorry state, he was thrilled, but instead of attacking him, they each let out cold snorts.
"You idiot, lounging around all day, clueless about what happened, huh?"
"Vegapunk personally invited someone else to join. Our funding's about to get slashed."
Queen and Judge relayed their intel back-to-back, successfully sending Caesar into a frenzy. But upon hearing about Vegapunk's wager, Caesar grew excited.
"So, it's a contest of results? Shurororo, teaming up, the three of us—that's not a bad idea."
No researcher ever complained about too much funding, and Caesar's extravagant lifestyle meant much of his budget went to frivolous pursuits.
In the original timeline, he brazenly swindled Big Mom's funds, squandering them on debauchery. While he hadn't reached that point yet, the seeds were sown.
However, their alliance wasn't as smooth as imagined.
"Muhahaha, perfect! Let me lead you to victory!"
"Hold on, Queen. Why should you lead? That thing's a robot—your research is useless. Obviously, it should be me."
"Shurororo, Judge, didn't you and Queen both lose? That proves you're both useless. I'm the clear choice to lead."
Alliance or not, none of the three respected each other. After a flurry of glares, they descended into infighting.
Vegapunk watched their squabble from afar, unbothered. He was used to this.
Occasional internal strife didn't aid his research. Vegapunk now yearned for someone of higher caliber to truly advance his work.
Each MADS member had their focus: Caesar leaned toward Devil Fruits, Queen explored chemical viruses, and Judge specialized in weapon development.
Their research shared a common thread—a desire to weaponize their inventions, clashing with Vegapunk's ideals.
From Blitzcrank's behavior, Vegapunk saw broader possibilities, fueling his high expectations for Oran.
The next day, Queen, Judge, and Caesar fought all night without resolution, ending in mutual exhaustion, now lying like corpses.
When the agreed time arrived, Oran brought Kate and Blitzcrank aboard. Ginny and Kuma had wanted to come but were tasked with other matters by Oran.
Shortly after boarding, they met the prepared medical team.
"Mr. Cidril, we're ready and can assist with the surgery whenever you need."
Oran was the sole surgeon, with others merely handing tools or wiping sweat. For safety, Oran even handled anesthesia himself, needing only the venue and equipment.
Nodding to the nurses and doctors, Oran glanced at Kate, who looked anxious.
"Relax. Take a nap, and in a few hours, you'll have a healthy body. I promise."
"Meow trusts you."
Oran and Kate donned surgical gowns, while Blitzcrank stood guard outside like a sentinel. The operating room's door light flicked on. Vegapunk set aside his research to observe Blitzcrank's structure outside.
"Cidril created you, correct?"
"Yes, the Master granted me everything."
"So, you're here to protect this place on his orders?"
"Yes, and no. Blitzcrank chose to come. Kate is a friend. Blitzcrank is worried about her."
The cold mechanical voice lacked emotion, yet it struck Vegapunk's heart like a hammer.
"A genius concept…"
Not preprogrammed responses, but behavior derived from its own logic. Among all robots Vegapunk had seen, none were as human-like as Blitzcrank.
And according to Oran, Blitzcrank had room to grow, not yet at its peak.
Vegapunk said no more, waiting alongside. Soon, the operating room's light went off, and a nurse emerged.
"What's wrong? Is there a problem?"
"Director Vegapunk? No problems. Everything went smoothly—almost too smoothly."
Du Feld's underworld connections ensured skilled doctors and nurses. You could question their ethics, but not their expertise—quacks in the underworld didn't last long.
These nurses had seen their share of intense situations but never a transplant this swift. From the moment surgery began, Oran transformed, moving with the precision of a machine.
His incisions were unhesitating, flawlessly accurate, completing the replacement in a fifth of the usual time. He even spent a few extra minutes perfecting the sutures for aesthetics.
But what followed made that feat seem trivial. After all assistants left, Oran remained in the operating room for several more minutes.
Then, Vegapunk witnessed someone who'd just undergone open-heart surgery walk out on her own.
"What's going on?! Where's the stretcher?! Get back and lie down! Who let you move like that?!"
"Calm down, Director Vegapunk. Kate's my responsibility. I'm more concerned about her than you are. She can walk because her body's already fine."
The Hextech Heart enhanced physical recovery, combined with minks' naturally high healing rate and some unique shimmer-based treatments, produced this result, shattering Vegapunk's preconceptions.