As the Going Merry cut through the waves, leaving Arabasta behind, Douglas could be found in a quiet corner of the ship, deep in discussion with Chopper. The small reindeer doctor sat beside him at a makeshift workstation, cluttered with vials, petri dishes, and a sturdy microscope Douglas had brought aboard.
For the past week, ever since the chaos in Arabasta, Douglas had been absorbed in a project that was equal parts medicine and ambition. While Chopper worked on refining his Rumble Balls, Douglas pursued something far more experimental: an injectable serum designed to coax the human body into producing the enzyme telomerase—the same compound that grants lobsters their remarkable longevity.
But his work didn't stop there. "Telomerase on its own is dangerous," Douglas muttered to Chopper, carefully adjusting the microscope's focus. "If it runs unchecked, it can trigger cancer. I'm trying to make the repair process selective, so the DNA's protective caps are maintained without the risk of uncontrolled growth."
Chopper's eyes lit up at the complexity of the challenge, his curiosity as a doctor pushing him to keep pace. "That's why you're working with the axolotl samples, isn't it? To map the regeneration pathways?"
"Exactly," Douglas replied, gesturing toward several sealed jars where the strange, feathery-gilled creatures floated lazily. "Axolotls can regrow limbs, tails, even parts of their hearts. If I can integrate their regenerative coding into the serum, a person could—at the very least—recover from severe injuries. Maybe even reattach lost limbs naturally."
He wasn't just tinkering with theory—Douglas was attempting to merge the regenerative potential of the axolotl with the controlled longevity of telomerase, creating something akin to a safer, more adaptable version of the immortality formula once achieved by Dr. Kureha.
During the entire week in Arabasta, the two had worked side by side, often until exhaustion pulled them away from the bench. Now, aboard the Merry, they carried on without pause. Their focus was so absolute that even the most restless of the crew, especially Luffy and Usopp, who loved to bother Chopper, chose to keep their distance.
Sanji, ever the caretaker in his own way, would quietly set plates of food beside their work area and return hours later to collect the emptied dishes, offering only a nod in acknowledgment. No one wanted to break the quiet rhythm of the ship's makeshift laboratory. And so, while the wind filled the sails and laughter occasionally drifted from the deck, Douglas and Chopper worked in near silence, their minds fixed on their goal.
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A few days after leaving Arabasta, the calm rhythm of life aboard the Going Merry was suddenly broken by loud cheering from Douglas and Chopper. Both came bounding up from their small work area at the stern, faces lit with triumph. Douglas held a small glass vial filled with a shimmering, strange-colored liquid, raising it like a trophy. Chopper was bouncing on his hooves, tail wagging, swept up in the excitement.
The rest of the crew turned their heads immediately. Even Sanji paused mid-puff on his cigarette, and Luffy practically skipped over, eyes wide.
"What is it, Douglas? Did you finally make a robot?" Luffy asked eagerly—because of course, that's what he'd been pestering Douglas about for weeks. His hopeful grin faltered when he noticed the man holding a vial of liquid instead of a pile of gears.
"No," Douglas replied with a grin of his own, "it's more useful than a robot."
Luffy's enthusiasm deflated slightly, while the others' curiosity only sharpened.
"So, what is it?" Nami asked, arms crossed, but her eyes kept flicking toward the vial.
Douglas glanced at them all before speaking, his tone calm but laced with pride. "It's a serum. Inject it, and your body will gain the ability to constantly repair its chromosomes—keeping them in peak condition indefinitely. And it doesn't stop there. It mimics the regenerative traits of an axolotl, meaning if you lose a limb, your body could regrow it over time."
Some of the crew stared blankly, the science sailing right over their heads. But Nami's eyes widened as she pieced it together, and Usopp let out a slow whistle, getting the gist.
"So… you're saying this would give us healing abilities?" Nami asked.
"Basically, yes," Douglas said with a small nod. "And theoretically… it could extend a person's lifespan to around five hundred years, without any loss in physical strength."
That made jaws drop. Usopp immediately fell into a deep dogeza, forehead pressed to the deck. "Please, give it to us!" Nami quickly joined him, not out of dramatics, but with a very clear picture in her head of just how useful such an advantage could be for survival.
Douglas chuckled softly. "Don't worry, I was planning to give it to everyone—especially Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji."
The three named fighters exchanged puzzled looks.
"You three do most of the heavy fighting," Douglas explained. "Your bodies are constantly undergoing intense repair. Over time, that wears you down, even if you can't feel it now. This would protect you from that long-term damage."
The logic was simple and sobering. Even Zoro gave a small grunt of acknowledgment, while Sanji exhaled a thoughtful stream of smoke. Luffy just grinned and said, "Cool!"
"Chopper," Douglas said, handing over a tray, "collect their blood samples. I'll tailor each batch to their genetic makeup so there's no risk of rejection."
"Yes!" Chopper said, practically glowing with pride that Douglas trusted him with such delicate work. The little doctor was already imagining how to document every step of the process, as it was also an incredibly useful step for his quest to cure every disease there is.