While Oran arranged his affairs, plans brewed aboard MADS's ship.
"Shurororo, did you two fall into a native hunter's trap? You look pathetic."
Queen and Judge, battered from Blitzcrank's chase, returned to jeers from a man with slick black mushroom hair, a flat nose, and horns.
Caesar Clown, another MADS member, was the group's moral bottom—lacking any limits, though not yet at his worst.
Like Queen and Judge, Caesar's narcissism rivaled theirs, believing himself superior to Vegapunk and dismissive of others.
Seeing Queen and Judge's state, he reveled in their misery but held back attacks. They only snorted coldly.
"You idiot, you didn't go out, so you don't know what happened."
"Vegapunk invited someone new. Our funding's about to get cut."
Queen and Judge relayed the news, sending Caesar into a frenzy. But Vegapunk's wager sparked his excitement.
"So, it's a contest of results? Shurororo, teaming up sounds good."
No researcher complained about too much funding. Caesar's lavish lifestyle often misspent his share.
In the original timeline, he'd swindle Big Mom's funds for debauchery. He wasn't there yet, but signs showed.
Their alliance wasn't smooth.
"Muhahaha, great! Follow me to victory!"
"Wait, Queen, why you? Robots aren't your field. It should be me."
"Shurororo, Judge, Queen—you both lost. You're useless. I should lead."
Allied in name, none yielded. A glance sparked infighting.
Vegapunk watched silently, accustomed to their squabbles. Their bickering rarely aided his work.
He craved a peer of equal skill for true progress. MADS members had specialties: Caesar on Devil Fruits, Queen on chemical viruses, Judge on weapons.
All three aimed to weaponize their work, clashing with Vegapunk's ideals.
Blitzcrank's behavior hinted at new possibilities, fueling Vegapunk's hopes for Oran.
The next day, Queen, Judge, and Caesar fought all night, ending in mutual exhaustion, collapsed together.
At the agreed time, Oran arrived with Kate and Blitzcrank. Ginny and Kuma, meant to come, were assigned other tasks.
Boarding, they met the ready medical team.
"Mr. Cidilir, we're prepared to assist with the surgery."
Oran would operate alone, with others handling tools and minor tasks. For safety, he even managed anesthesia, needing only the venue and equipment.
Nodding to the staff, Oran turned to a nervous Kate.
"Relax. Sleep, and in a few hours, you'll be healthy. I promise."
"Meow trusts you."
Oran and Kate donned surgical gowns. Blitzcrank stood guard outside like a sentinel. The operating room's light glowed as Vegapunk paused his research to study Blitzcrank.
"Cidilir created you, yes?"
"Yes, Master gave me everything."
"So you're here to guard, per his orders?"
"Yes and no. Blitzcrank chose to come. Kate is a friend. Blitzcrank worries for her."
The cold mechanical voice lacked emotion but struck Vegapunk like a hammer.
"Genius design…"
Not preprogrammed responses but self-derived actions. Among robots, Blitzcrank's human-like nature was unmatched.
Per Oran, it had room to grow, not yet at its peak.
Vegapunk said no more, waiting. Soon, the operating room light dimmed, and a nurse emerged.
"What's wrong? Any issues?"
"Director Vegapunk? No issues. It was too smooth."
Du Feld's underworld connections ensured skilled doctors and nurses. Their morals might be questionable, but their expertise wasn't—quacks didn't survive.
These nurses, seasoned by big cases, had never seen such a swift transplant. Oran operated like a machine, precise and unwavering, finishing in a fifth of the usual time, even spending minutes perfecting sutures.
Yet what followed overshadowed this. After assistants left, Oran stayed longer.
Then Vegapunk saw a patient fresh from open-heart surgery walk out.
"What's happening? Where's the stretcher? Get back to bed!"
"Calm down, Director. Kate's my responsibility. I care more than you. She's walking because she's fine."
The Hextech heart boosted recovery, amplified by Fur Tribe healing and subtle light-based therapies, shattering Vegapunk's preconceptions.
(End of Chapter)
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