Chapter 106
**"I have Green Blood implanted in my body?"**
Carl stared at the report in his hands, his mind racing.
Green Blood... He had heard of it before.
Since this document was compiled by **Vegapunk**, it included not just cold data, but also **Vegapunk's personal insights.** And thanks to those notes, Carl finally **understood** the role Green Blood played in his body.
In the original timeline, Vegapunk had used **Green Blood** in the **Seraphim**—allowing them to **replicate** Devil Fruit abilities.
At its core, **Green Blood** was nothing more than a **carrier**—a way to transfer the **bloodline factor** of an ability user into another being.
But Carl's case was **different.**
The **Green Blood** injected into him did not contain the **bloodline factor** of a Devil Fruit user.
Instead, it carried the **bloodline factors** of two powerful **races**—
**The Mink Tribe.**
**The Lunarians.**
Carl exhaled slowly.
The **version of Green Blood** used on him was **the original prototype**—far more powerful than the one later used on the Seraphim.
But also, far **more dangerous.**
It was **unstable**, violent in nature, and had **brutal requirements** for the host's body.
Vegapunk had originally **discarded** this version, deeming it an **uncontrollable poison.**
Yet Darian had insisted on using it.
Darian had believed that the **Figarland bloodline** was **strong enough** to resist the side effects of Green Blood.
And so, without hesitation, he had **injected Carl** with a mixture containing both **Mink** and **Lunarian** bloodline factors.
The implantation had to be done **during childhood**, while the body was still developing.
Only then could the **bloodline factors** fully integrate.
Now, reading this report, Carl could confirm that the experiment had been **partially successful.**
His **Mink Tribe** abilities were fully integrated.
His electrical discharges and moonlight transformations were **stronger than those of normal Minks.**
But the **Lunarian blood**...
It still lay **dormant.**
Carl tapped his fingers against the desk, deep in thought.
The Lunarians were **gods among men.**
Their **flame abilities** allowed them to shift between **defense and speed**, making them one of the strongest races in history.
And yet, that power had yet to awaken inside him.
Was it just a matter of time?
Or was something **missing?**
After a long silence, Carl suddenly spoke.
"Uncle Garling."
Garling looked up.
"Summon **Vegapunk.**"
---
Garling wasted no time in sending for **Vegapunk.**
Then he turned to Carl.
"Have you changed your mind?" he asked.
"Do you still want to **kill** him?"
Carl shook his head.
"No. I just need to confirm something with him."
---
It wasn't long before **Vegapunk** arrived.
At this point in history, Vegapunk had not yet created his **six satellite clones.**
He walked into the room—his **exaggerated forehead** as prominent as ever—his expression one of **resignation.**
Standing before Garling and Carl, he met Carl's gaze and spoke.
"Saint Carl… you called me here to **execute** me, didn't you?"
Carl leaned back in his chair, amused.
"Oh? So you're **ready to die?**"
Vegapunk nodded.
"Yes. Everything I did to you back then went against my **scientific ethics.**
I regret all of it."
Carl's eyes narrowed slightly.
"But Darian **forced** you, didn't he?"
"What did he threaten you with?"
Vegapunk sighed.
"My hometown. **Baldimore.**"
Carl's fingers twitched.
Baldimore…
He remembered that place from the original story. It was the same place Kuma had taken **Franky.**
Carl's hand darkened, **flames flickering** at his fingertips.
"So that's it…" he muttered.
His voice lowered.
"Are you **ready to die?**"
Vegapunk fell silent.
But his hesitation was **clear.**
He had **too much** unfinished research.
He **didn't** want to die.
Carl saw through him instantly.
With a wave of his hand, darkness **spread** across the floor.
Vegapunk's feet **sank into the void.**
Garling took a slow sip of tea, watching quietly.
Carl tilted his head, observing.
As the darkness **rose to Vegapunk's chest**, Vegapunk suddenly shouted—
"Saint Carl! **Give me more time!**"
Carl rested his chin on his palm, his voice calm.
"Why?"
Vegapunk struggled against the sinking darkness.
"I still need to **study your body.**"
"And… I have **unfinished research.**"
Carl smirked and **released him.**
The darkness vanished.
Vegapunk collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.
Carl leaned forward, intrigued.
"Unfinished research?
You mean **Artificial Devil Fruits**?
Or is it **cloning?**"
Vegapunk's eyes widened slightly.
Carl chuckled.
"What? You think I don't know?"
Vegapunk hesitated.
But **Garling** looked even more surprised—**he** hadn't told Carl about these projects.
After a moment, Vegapunk nodded.
"Yes. Both are ongoing.
And I've already made… some **progress.**"
Carl wasn't surprised.
Vegapunk's genius was **unparalleled** in the pirate world.
For any other scientist, just one of these research projects would take **a lifetime.**
Yet Vegapunk was pushing **both** forward at once.
And he was actually **succeeding.**
Carl thought back to the **later years** of the timeline.
To Vegapunk's **impossible** inventions.
**Artificial lifeforms. Space jumps.**
If Vegapunk had been born on **Earth**, he'd have been regarded as a second **Einstein.**
Carl gave him a long look.
If you ignored the **forehead**, he even **looked** a bit like Einstein.
---
Vegapunk **waited anxiously** for Carl's next move.
Carl turned to Garling.
"Uncle Garling."
"I want to visit the **research institute** with him."
Garling studied Carl for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"Go ahead. I'll inform **Saturn.**"
"But don't stay too long.
You're rarely home. Let's have **dinner tonight.**"
Vegapunk turned to Garling in **surprise.**
This… **wasn't** the way he remembered **Garling Figarland** speaking.
Carl chuckled, standing up.
"Got it, Uncle.
I'll take a look at the lab, then I'll join you later.
Maybe we can even have a **drink.**"