Accompanied by Sentomaru, Gern and Kizaru passed through layer after layer of heavily fortified alloy gates and energy barriers before finally arriving at the most critical area of Egghead Island—the core laboratory of Vegapunk.
The interior of the laboratory was even more astonishing than anything outside.
Countless intricate photon circuits spread across the walls and ceiling like a vast neural network. Cascading streams of complex data flowed endlessly across holographic displays like luminous waterfalls, while unfamiliar experimental devices hummed with a deep, constant resonance.
Yet at the very center of the laboratory, the most eye-catching sight was not any machine.
It was a brain.
An enormous brain—floating within a chamber of specialized nutrient fluid and surrounded by a stabilizing energy field.
This was Vegapunk's natural genius mind, magnified by the power of the Brain-Brain Fruit and endlessly expanded through his own relentless accumulation of knowledge.
The largest brain in the world.
Its sheer scale was suffocating. Deep grooves lined its surface, flickering with faint blue bioelectric light. Countless delicate conduits connected to it, making it the living biological core of Egghead Island's entire supercomputing network.
Gern's gaze drifted away from the awe-inspiring brain and settled on the figure standing before it.
Vegapunk.
Compared to several years ago, his head had swollen to a truly absurd size due to the power of the Brain-Brain Fruit. His height had grown alongside it, nearly reaching that of the giant race, giving his body a strangely disproportionate appearance.
Clearly, this body could no longer properly support the ever-evolving, infinitely expanding "source of knowledge" that was his brain.
So the genius scientist had made a radical decision.
He had cut it off.
The original brain—grown colossal from containing limitless knowledge—had been removed from his body entirely.
Now the top of Vegapunk's skull was empty. In its place sat a peculiar device: a strange structure shaped like half of a freshly cut apple, forming a framework resembling a skull.
This was the Apple Head Dome—the "cranial radio" he created after removing his brain. Through it, Vegapunk sustained his life while continuously receiving knowledge signals transmitted from the massive brain floating ahead of him.
"So you actually severed the brain that kept expanding from storing knowledge, cultivated it independently as a supercomputer, and now you receive that knowledge endlessly through this 'antenna,' freeing yourself from the limits of the flesh?"
Even someone as well-traveled and experienced as Gern couldn't help murmuring in admiration.
"I didn't expect you to figure that out at a glance, Gern."
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
Vegapunk, the strange "apple dome" perched atop his head, walked closer.
Because Gern had requested a private meeting, only the two of them remained in the room.
"It's been years, Vegapunk," Gern said with a faint smile as he looked at the eccentric genius.
"Indeed, it has been quite a while!" Vegapunk's voice rose slightly, carrying the unmistakable excitement of a researcher.
"But I watched the entire broadcast of what you did in front of the whole world during the World Government's live transmission two years ago."
He grinned.
"You've become a qualified politician."
After the brief pleasantries, Vegapunk jumped directly onto a specially designed high-backed chair beside him, elevating himself so that his "apple dome" sat level with Gern's gaze. His tone turned straightforward.
"Now then—speak. Normally there's no reason for our paths to cross. What exactly did you come to see me for?"
Gern did not answer immediately.
Instead, his right hand slipped into his coat. When it emerged again, a sheet of uniquely textured rubbing paper was held between his fingers.
With a flick of his wrist—
Swish.
The paper unfolded, revealing ancient, twisted characters along with a strange map-like pattern of road markers.
"I want to know…" Gern began, his voice low, his sharp gaze fixed directly on Vegapunk.
But before he could finish—
"You don't need to know."
Vegapunk's reaction was astonishingly fast.
He interrupted instantly, springing up from the high-backed chair. His feet struck the floor with a heavy thud.
Vegapunk stared straight at Gern, speaking slowly, each word carrying the weight of an unyielding verdict.
"You are not the destined one, Gern. You are not… D."
The declaration echoed coldly throughout the laboratory.
"This path—and the meaning behind it—has nothing to do with you. You are not the enemy of the 'gods.' Whether you know about it or not makes no difference, Gern."
"The entity within the World Government will not care about you."
"Because you are not a D."
For a moment, the name "D" stood like an invisible wall before Gern.
Yet the smile on Gern's face did not fade even slightly.
He showed no anger at being denied.
Instead, he chuckled softly.
"Heh…"
The laughter faded.
Gern raised his hand and casually dusted the Poneglyph road rubbing.
"You're right," he admitted calmly. "I'm not a D."
"Nor am I the so-called 'enemy of the gods' you speak of."
Before the final word had even settled, Gern's eyes sharpened abruptly.
The restrained aura around him suddenly erupted.
An invisible surge of Haki swept through the laboratory. The electronic hum in the air wavered and distorted under the pressure.
Then Gern stepped forward.
The metal floor beneath his foot let out a faint vibrating buzz, as though struggling to bear the weight of his presence.
"But…"
"'God' will definitely fear me."
Not perhaps.
Not maybe.
But definitely.
This was not a declaration born from bloodline or destiny.
It was a challenge to fate itself—driven by absolute power and unyielding will.
He was not the chosen "enemy of the gods."
But he would become the one who made even the gods tremble—
The Heaven-Shaking One.
"Gern, these matters truly have nothing to do with you—" Vegapunk tried to persuade him.
"Vegapunk!!"
This time, it was Gern who cut him off.
A faint crack echoed in the air.
Spider-web fractures spread across nearby surfaces as pale vibration particles—visible to the naked eye—appeared like drifting stardust, flickering and humming softly.
Gern stared directly at Vegapunk.
Word by word, his voice fell cold and heavy, yet carried a madness that trampled destiny itself.
"Understand this clearly."
"If I wished… I could kill every single D in the world."
"All the logic and fatalistic theories you rely on—"
"They mean nothing to me."
"Perhaps I am not the destined 'enemy of the gods.'"
"But I possess the power to destroy fate itself."
"And that…"
"Is more than enough."