MADS's ship anchored at Tamonda Island in the Grand Line's first half, a brief respite from their voyage. The island was no haven—two nations had waged a relentless war for control, their pride preventing peace despite exhaustion. Vegapunk's GP flower bomb changed that.
Kate, after testing the bombs, deemed them unfit for open battle but ideal for covert ops. Bakin, hired once more, slipped into the night, lobbing flower bombs into both armies' arsenals. The next day, as the factions clashed, their guns and cannons sprouted flowers, and tanks charging the plains bloomed vibrantly. The war ended in a surreal sea of petals, forcing peace talks.
Under Feld's orchestration, reporters swarmed, splashing Orlan's designs across headlines. "Orlan! Today's paper!" Kate called, waving a newspaper aboard the ship.
The Iber Prize nominees announced, celebrating the bond between a genius doctor and a scientist. The article, laced with Feld's paid exaggerations, lauded Orlan and Vegapunk. It felt overblown, even to Orlan. Aiming for the Medical Prize, his prosthetic tech breakthroughs were highlighted, tying his work to Vegapunk's.
"Those who chase peace and share ideals bring blessings to the world," the paper declared. Orlan set aside the engine he was tinkering with. Tamonda's tech tree puzzled him—tanks powered by charcoal, not oil, their flimsy armor barely stopping flintlock bullets. Still, their engines intrigued him, a clever workaround under constraints.
"They're not wrong," Kate said. "Aren't you changing the world?"
"It's a start, not a change," Orlan replied. "If those failures keep ruling, progress stays chained."
The World Government, propped by Celestial Dragon supremacy, thrived on chaos to maintain power. Not incompetent—its military dominated the seas—but woefully inefficient, it served as the Dragons' steward, not a force for progress. For Orlan, whether for personal gain or grander plans, change was essential.
"Too early for that, Kate. Gear up—we'll be busy. Trouble's coming."
The newspaper exposed their location, a golden chance for Piercro. It also tested if the World Government suspected Orlan's role in the Valley of the Gods. Logically, they shouldn't—only Kate and a few knew his true identity. His face, masked then, was unknown, and survivors scattered across a vast, disconnected world. The Government lacked leads to dig deeper.
Still, Orlan planned for the worst. A small device, a replica Z-type drive inspired by Zaun's Ekko, was his trump card. Ekko's accidental time-travel invention, limited by Hextech crystal differences, allowed Orlan's version one stable, long-range jump—enough to reset critical moments.
As Orlan's team braced, news spread. In the South Sea's Solbe Kingdom, Xiong studied Orlan's notes, managing a factory with Ginny. Orlan's gift freed them from scraping by with woodcutting or fishing. Their church, renovated over two years, reflected their improved lives.
"Xiongxiong! Orlan's in the news!" Ginny burst in, newspaper oil-stained from her work. "Nominated for the Iber Medical Prize. He's saving people crippled by accidents."
"Published nominees usually win," Xiong said. "But is this his goal? I doubt it."
"Doesn't matter. He's got plans. We just handle our tasks—can't let him down."
In the Grand Line's Kamabaka Kingdom, Ivankov, who'd left Solbe, thrived among its gender-fluid community, mastering their unique cuisine and combat. "Orlan?!" he exclaimed, reading the paper. "Knew he wouldn't stay quiet. He's moving! Hee ha!"
"Your friend, Little Ivan?" a local asked. "Her Majesty called him extraordinary."
"Gotta step up! Marilyn, let's train!" Ivankov roared.
"Here's the Newkama Kenpo secret: Youthful Dream-Shattering Kick!" Marilyn, feminine in voice but unshaven, struck. Their avant-garde techniques led the era.
Not all rejoiced. In a dim room, Piercro, masked as a grinning clown, kicked over a table. "Finally, news of you!" he snarled. A massive sickle slashed the newspaper bearing Orlan's photo, embedding in the wall. "You won't escape. Alert all assassins and the organ trafficking ring. Take him down now!"
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