Upon entering the study, the little demon materialized and opened its mouth. Robert walked straight in.
This space was truly mysterious. The first time he entered it, less than ten square meters were lit; the rest was engulfed in absolute darkness. But as the little demon traveled more frequently, the lit area gradually expanded.
This wasn't inside the little demon's body—it felt more like a separate dimension, and the little demon was merely the key to access it.
Robert had once taught the little demon to bring back "souvenirs" when hopping into other worlds, even stuffing items into its mouth. The experience nearly traumatized the poor creature into silence.
Unfortunately, this space didn't travel with the demon, so Robert's grand plan of hiding here to traverse different worlds was a failure.
Upon entering, Robert first checked the amount of "Resentment of Living Beings" the little demon had recently absorbed—it was enough for a hundred traversals.
All over the world, people were dying every second, and anger, sadness, fear, and hatred were constant. But only the resentment tied to Robert through karma could be absorbed by the little demon. In other words, Robert had to be directly or indirectly involved.
Personally killing someone or attacking them scored a full 100%. Releasing viruses, using doomsday devices—all that counted too. Then came destruction caused by creatures contracted to the little demon. The stronger the karmic tie, the more resentment he gained.
The "Black and White Battle" on the streets of San Francisco had caused many bystander deaths. That event netted Robert the highest amount of resentment yet.
On top of that, the national protests sparked by racial discrimination were providing him with a steady trickle of energy. While individual contributions were small due to indirect involvement, the sheer number of participants made up for it.
At this rate, it would keep producing for quite some time—a slow, sustainable stream.
America really was Robert's blessed land.
Back home, even after working to death for half a year, he could barely accumulate enough energy for a "100 consecutive draws." He had to constantly come up with new ways to provoke people—otherwise, his desensitized coworkers wouldn't react at all.
Robert sat cross-legged and muttered a calming incantation, then ordered, "Begin."
With a "whoosh," the little demon disappeared and returned just as quickly, dropping a gold nugget at Robert's feet.
Robert touched it and instantly received information: a gold block from Journey to the Center of the Earth.
He felt… nothing. Well, at least it was worth money.
Next came a rapid-fire series of clinks and clatter as a pile of strange items appeared in front of him: Rick's leather jacket, Brian's notebook, Joshua's sniper rifle, Shane's copy of The Art of War, Mae's black stockings…
Robert silently set aside the jacket and stockings.
Don't get it wrong—I just want to remember my lost youth.
The sniper rifle? Tossed into the junk pile. Maybe it would be useful in some old imperial dynasty, but this was modern America—you could buy anything here.
Suddenly, the little demon threw out an old monk's robe.
Robert picked it up, face turning strange.
Flipping it over, he saw eight glowing golden characters on the lining:
"To master this skill, one must first castrate oneself."
It was the Evil-Repelling Sword Manual from The Smiling, Proud Wanderer.
Then, just as the little demon returned holding a piece of jade, Robert grabbed it and asked, "Where did this come from?"
""Giggle giggle...…"
"You mean, there was a middle-aged man butt-naked in a cave, hesitating with a dagger, and you snatched this while he was distracted?"
"Hee hee hee hee…"
"Master Davis, looks like you owe me one!"
Robert snickered shamelessly. "Actually, Miss Lea should be thanking me even more. If only I could get over there—I'd definitely ask for a very personal thank-you."
"Chop chop chop… Hehehehehe…" the little demon chirped gleefully.
"Not like that. Listen to my version." Robert chuckled, then sang,
"Chop chop chop, chop chop chop, Auntie's got the little bird."
"Ehehehe… hehehehe…"
After the laughter died down, the little demon resumed its scavenging, bringing back more bizarre items.
Then it returned with a tiny porcelain vial, looking pitiful.
When Robert saw its face, it began to cry:
"Wuwuwu…"
"A guy with a cloth tiger hat wouldn't let go, so you only got this?"
"Wuuu…"
"Don't worry. Next time you see him, just stab him with a fork." Robert comforted it and took the bottle.
"Holy sh*t!"
It was the 'I Love One Stick of Firewood' potion from The Deer and the Cauldron.
A quote inexplicably popped into his mind:
"You don't even need to touch this. Just smelling it is enough to knock you out. No one else even comes close!"
"Interesting. Trust Stephen Collins to deliver gold."
Waving for the little demon to continue, Robert suddenly realized something unsettling:
The Evil-Repelling Sword Manual was on his left, and 'I Love One Stick of Firewood' was in his right hand.
He fell silent.
What's this supposed to mean?
A test?
What kind of official would fail a test like this?
With solemn determination, Robert tossed the monk's robe aside and pocketed the porcelain bottle.
The rest of the items were mundane—nothing worth noting.
Which was expected. Over the years, Robert had only found three truly valuable things through the gacha system.
He carefully packed the few items he liked and ordered the synthetic humanoids to sort and store the rest.
But just as he was finishing, the little demon tugged at his clothes.
"Didn't get enough?"
Robert glanced at the remaining energy—enough for another dozen trips.
"Alright, use it all."
If he were still in Japan, he would've saved it. But with the American protests fueling his reserves like clockwork, he didn't mind burning the rest.
Soon, the little demon returned with another pile of average junk.
Until the final traversal.
This time, it brought back half of a burning face, still hot to the touch, with magma hanging from the edges.
A curved mustache clung to the cheek, and a scorched eyeball sat in the socket.
"This…" Robert stepped forward and picked it up.
It was Whitebeard's face—from One Piece.
"As expected."
The moment he touched it, a surge of energy and fragmented memories flooded into him. With the help of his Brain-Brain Fruit ability, Robert rapidly absorbed Whitebeard's memories and detected three distinct energies:
Armament Haki Observation Haki Conqueror's Haki
While the quantities were small, the quality was outstanding.
Years ago, Robert had acquired Vegapunk's memories, which included training methods for Six Powers and Life Return. After years of grueling practice, he had mastered both.
Though Six Powers was considered top-secret World Government training, thousands had learned it over the years. Many had been captured, tortured, or turned traitor.
Some pirates even infiltrated the Navy and became Vice Admirals.
In the world of pirates, Six Powers and Haki were no longer "secrets" once you reached a certain level.
Despite mastering Six Powers, Robert had never awakened Haki—until now. Whitebeard's face gave him his first taste.
The quantity didn't matter.
Once he had it, he could cultivate it—just like Ki in Dragon Ball.
But Whitebeard's face didn't stop there.
"Do you want to copy the special trait?"
The system prompted.
"Special trait?" Robert was stunned—then realized:
"Does this mean… remnants of the Gura Gura no Mi's power?"
"Copy!" he said without hesitation.
The system only transferred abilities, not side effects. When he copied the Brain-Brain Fruit, his head didn't swell, he didn't lose swimming ability, and he wasn't afraid of water.
That's why he hadn't bothered eating the synthetic Azure Dragon Fruit.
He was traveling across worlds—he needed long-term vision.
In an instant, Robert acquired the power of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit. Like Haki, it was limited in quantity but genuine.
He extended a finger and watched it tremble violently.
"…The hell is this good for?"
Then his eyes slowly shifted downward.
"…Wait, I'm not even the one who's gonna enjoy this…"
A little disgruntled, Robert walked over to the lab table and began extracting Whitebeard's genetic factors while they were still fresh.
Another tool to clone.
He'd make sure Whitebeard continued collecting sons—
In the Marvel Universe.
(End of Chapter)