One by one, the high-ranking officers snapped back to their senses, their shock erupting into a storm of voices.
"This is insane! Kid, just how did you pull this off?!" Garp's eyes were wide, his throat tight as he swallowed hard.
"The Tyrant Kuma is still alive, which means there can't possibly be another Paw-Paw Fruit in this world. Unless…" Vice Admiral Tsuru narrowed her eyes, suspicion and disbelief flashing across her face. "Unless it's an artificial Paw-Paw Fruit? You're telling me something like that can actually be made? Unbelievable… absolutely unbelievable!"
"A machine that not only has Haki but even a Devil Fruit ability… isn't this basically a perfectly obedient Warlord of the Sea?" Aokiji's mouth hung open, his expression exaggerated to the extreme.
"At first, I didn't buy it. But now? I'll admit defeat. Kid, you might just be a little monster." Akainu lit a cigar, taking a heavy drag to steady himself before he spoke.
Kizaru grinned from ear to ear. "See? Told you. This little guy's my baby brother!"
A once-in-a-millennium scientific prodigy!
"Actually, it's nothing too surprising," Natsuha explained, puffing out his tiny chest like a little adult. "Robots need human traits to function properly. The machines you've seen before couldn't wield Haki or Devil Fruit abilities simply because they were too weak."
"As for the Paw-Paw Fruit's power, I extracted the lineage factor directly from Kuma's blood and replicated it. You can think of it as an artificial Paw-Paw Fruit."
They didn't quite understand the science, but Sengoku's excitement was uncontainable.
Mass production!
This weapon had to be mass-produced!
If these humanoid machines could be created in large numbers, what pirate would still dare oppose the Navy?
Sengoku could finally see his dream of retiring in peace.
Overcome with joy, he grabbed Natsuha's hand tightly. "Forget the usual procedures. You're recruited on the spot! From now on, you'll be working in the Navy's Science Division!"
His eyes burned with anticipation. "But tell me… if these humanoid weapons were to be mass-produced, what would it cost?"
Natsuha smiled faintly, a glint of sly mischief hidden in his eyes.
"To mass-produce them… I'd say about five hundred billion Berries."
"What?!"
"That expensive?!"
Sengoku nearly choked, and the other officers jumped in shock.
Kizaru did a quick calculation and realized that even if he slacked off at work for his entire life, he'd never earn that much money.
"Listen carefully," Natsuha continued smoothly. "The Warlord-level Seraphim are cheap—only twenty billion Berries each. Ten of them would cost just two hundred billion."
"That's actually reasonable!" someone muttered.
Indeed, twenty billion per unit was no small sum, but compared to the cost of a single battleship, which could already run into the tens of billions, this was a bargain.
For twenty billion, they could acquire a completely obedient Warlord-level fighter. For two hundred billion, they could build an entire squad on par with the Shichibukai—a force equivalent to one of the world's three great powers. A steal!
But five hundred billion? That was another matter entirely. The Navy's budget was already stretched thin.
"Don't rush," Natsuha said, waving a hand. "There's also the Admiral-class Seraphim. The first round of development will cost extra—about two hundred billion for R&D—but once completed, the production cost can be reduced to one hundred billion each. Add that to the Warlord models, and that's where the total of five hundred billion comes from."
Of course, this was all a bluff. With his [Future Technology System], the true cost was closer to two hundred billion at most.
But in order to unlock the next technological tier—the Admiral-class Seraphim—he had to fulfill the system's requirement: secure five hundred billion in Navy research funding.
Whether the money was actually spent didn't matter. The funding had to be secured.
Which meant he had to scheme it out of them.
Five hundred billion wasn't too much to ask, right? After all, wasn't he doing the Navy a huge favor?
…Wait.
Did he just say Admiral-class Seraphim?
Everyone in the room jolted as if struck by lightning.
If such a thing could really be created, the balance of the entire world would be overturned.
If Admiral-class Seraphim were mass-produced, the Navy wouldn't just dominate the Grand Line—they could even uproot the Yonko in the New World!
The thought of it made even hardened veterans shiver.
But doubt quickly crept in.
"Impossible, isn't it?" someone muttered.
"Kid, do you even know what Admiral-level power means?" Akainu narrowed his eyes. "Don't spout nonsense unless you're sure."
He didn't doubt Natsuha's brilliance, but he worried the boy simply didn't understand what "Admiral level" truly entailed. What if the machines turned out to be mere Vice Admiral-class? Then a hundred billion apiece would be a terrible waste compared to simply making more Warlord-class units.
Vice Admiral Tsuru remained silent but exchanged a concerned look with Sengoku. Five hundred billion Berries wasn't pocket change—it was nearly half a year's Navy budget. If it failed, Sengoku would bear the wrath of the Five Elders.
"Think carefully, Natsuha," Kizaru added uneasily. "Don't make promises you can't keep. If the Seraphim can't match an Admiral's strength, the blame will fall on me too. If they cut my salary, I'll be ruined."
Natsuha waved his little hand confidently.
"Don't worry, brother. If I say they'll reach Admiral level, then they will. After all, you are an Admiral, and I've watched countless Navy training videos of Admirals fighting to the death. I know exactly what 'Admiral level' means."
Hearing this, Sengoku's resolve began to waver.
He knew there was risk, but the temptation was irresistible.
Even if only two or three Admiral-class Seraphim could be created, it would still change the balance of power. The Navy would finally be able to suppress the Yonko with certainty.
This was an opportunity too great to ignore.
To hell with it. Win, and the Navy would stand unmatched. Lose, and… well, he'd face the consequences.
"How long would it take to build them?" Sengoku asked.
"The Warlord-level models are already complete. I can deliver ten of them within three days," Natsuha answered.
"As for the Admiral-class… it'll take about half a month of development before they're ready. After that, production will be much faster."
Sengoku bit down hard, making his decision.
At least the Warlord-class units were guaranteed. Even if the Admiral project failed, the Five Elders wouldn't punish him too severely.
"Alright, boy!" Sengoku declared. "I'll find a way to get you your five hundred billion. Go all out—if you fail, I'll take the blame!"
All eyes turned to him. It was clear—Sengoku had truly fallen for Natsuha's machines.
Even at the risk of his own career, he was willing to gamble everything.
Sengoku was betting on this.
Natsuha's lips curved into a small smile. Five hundred billion secured.
"Don't worry, Uncle Sengoku. Just give me a private lab and make sure nobody disturbs me. Leave the rest to me. I guarantee results!" he promised, his childish voice filled with unshakable confidence.
"Good lad! From today, you'll take up your post. Forget the formalities—I'll handle the paperwork. You focus on research!" Sengoku said, visibly excited.
And so, with Sengoku and Kizaru personally escorting him aboard a Navy warship, the boy genius Natsuha was taken to the Science Division.
For Sengoku, not a minute could be wasted.
Natsuha was too important to risk. Which was why Sengoku ordered Vice Admirals to stand guard in shifts outside his lab.
This boy was the Navy's future. Nothing could be allowed to happen to him.