Chapter 708

Far beneath the violent waters of the New World, hidden within a region so dangerous that even veteran pirate crews instinctively avoided its currents, there existed a facility the world did not know existed. No maps recorded it. No Log Pose pointed toward it. No rumors survived long enough to spread beyond the underworld.

Because this place had been deliberately erased from the knowledge of mankind. The ocean above it was a graveyard. Massive storms eternally churned across the surrounding waters, creating a permanent veil of black clouds and monstrous whirlpools. But the weather itself was not the true deterrent. The Sea Kings were.

Entire nests of them infested the region. Not merely one or two colossal monsters wandering through the depths, but dozens upon dozens of ancient predators coiling through the abyss like living mountains. Gargantuan serpentine creatures slept around underwater trenches while armored leviathans large enough to swallow warships drifted lazily through the black waters. Some of the beasts were so massive that their shadows eclipsed entire fleets.

Any vessel attempting to enter the area without authorization simply vanished. No wreckage.

No survivors. No traces. It was the perfect natural defense. And hidden beneath that kingdom of monsters rested the facility. The underwater research complex stretched across the ocean floor like a metallic continent.

Its scale was absurd. Enormous interconnected domes of reinforced alloy and pressure-resistant glass extended for kilometers beneath the sea, illuminated by artificial blue-white lights that pierced the darkness of the abyss. Massive transport rails connected different sectors of the installation while colossal reactor towers pulsed with enough energy to power entire nations.

The facility’s size could easily rival Egghead itself — the recently renamed research island of Dr. Vegapunk after its extensive technological reconstruction. But unlike Egghead, this place lacked wonder. No bright futuristic optimism existed here. No whimsical inventions meant to benefit humanity. This facility felt cold. Clinical. Oppressive.

A monument built not for progress—but for weaponization. The hallways were stark silver and black, lined with reinforced blast doors thicker than battleship armor. Automated security systems tracked movement constantly while prototypes patrolled key sectors in eerie silence. Laboratories extended endlessly behind layers of security clearance, each one dedicated to increasingly unethical fields of experimentation.

Genetic engineering. Artificial gigantification. Lineage Factor manipulation. Weaponized Devil Fruit integration. Human cloning. Biological warfare. The deeper one descended into the complex, the more horrifying the research became.

More than a hundred scientists and research personnel operated within the underwater station, all officially employed under various branches of the World Government. Many had once been independent researchers, rogue scientists, or criminal innovators quietly absorbed into government service after either capture... or coercion.

And overseeing all of it was Vinsmoke Judge. The former king of the Germa Kingdom stood atop one of the facility’s highest observation decks, silently staring out into the endless darkness of the deep sea beyond the reinforced glass.

The faint blue light from the ocean cast long shadows across his face, emphasizing the coldness in his eyes. Much had changed since his fall. Once, Judge had commanded the feared Germa 66—a technologically advanced military empire capable of rivaling nations through sheer scientific superiority. Cloned armies. Enhanced soldiers. Weaponized genetics. He had once believed Germa would eventually stand at the summit of the world once again.

Then came his humiliation at the hands of the Donquixote Pirates. What followed was even worse. Germa had been shattered. Its military decimated. Its influence broken. Its future erased. Judge himself had narrowly escaped death, and after countless experiences and failures, he fell directly into the hands of Cipher Pol agents waiting in the shadows like vultures.

The World Government had given him a choice. Serve. Or disappear forever. Judge had accepted immediately. Not out of loyalty. Not out of fear. But because he saw opportunity. Germa was gone. His kingdom no longer existed in any meaningful capacity, and the World Government possessed something even greater than military conquest: unlimited resources and complete moral freedom hidden beneath layers of secrecy.

Here, no ethics committees existed. No political restraints. No kingdoms protesting human experimentation. Only results mattered. And Judge had always been a man intoxicated by ambition.

Behind him, the massive laboratory floor buzzed with activity. Scientists in white coats hurried between glowing holographic displays and containment chambers filled with grotesque biological experiments. Rows upon rows of artificial embryos floated within nutrient-filled cylinders while massive mechanical limbs hung suspended from assembly cranes overhead.

"...Is that what they call the Pacifista?" A deep, rough voice thundered across the observation deck like distant cannon fire. The heavy sound of armored footsteps followed soon after, each step reverberating through the metallic floor of the underwater facility. Researchers nearby instinctively straightened themselves while several guards moved aside immediately, their expressions tightening with visible caution.

The sheer size of the approaching figure demanded attention. From the far end of the observation corridor emerged John Giant, the enormous Vice Admiral’s towering frame nearly scraping the reinforced ceiling lights overhead. Even within a facility built large enough to accommodate giant experimentation and oversized military projects, his presence still felt overwhelming.

The massive marine wore a long white justice coat draped over his broad shoulders like a war banner, though unlike most officers, his carried visible battle damage from years of warfare. Deep scars crossed his exposed arms while one side of his jaw bore an old burn mark likely left behind by cannon fire or explosives.

Everything about him radiated military brutality. At his side walked a far more unsettling figure. A man clad entirely in white formal attire moved beside the Vice Admiral with unnerving silence, his polished shoes making almost no sound against the steel flooring. A porcelain-white mask concealed his face completely, marked only by elegant black patterns stretching across its surface.

A Cipher Pol Aegis agent. CP0. The highest intelligence authority directly serving the World Government itself.

Unlike John Giant’s openly imposing presence, the masked agent felt hollow. Empty. Like something that had abandoned ordinary humanity long ago in favor of becoming a tool.

The atmosphere across the observation deck subtly shifted as the pair approached. Even the scientists avoided looking directly at the CP0 operative for too long.

Meanwhile, the Vice Admiral’s gaze remained fixed upon the massive humanoid machine patrolling below the lower sectors of the facility.

The prototype stood nearly twice the height of an ordinary man, its enormous metallic frame moving with eerie precision as glowing sensors swept across the laboratory floor. Reinforced armor plating covered its body while massive energy emitters lined its arms. Every movement carried enough raw force to crush normal soldiers effortlessly.

To ordinary Marines, the weapon looked terrifying. To John Giant—it looked fascinating. "Pacifista..." the Vice Admiral repeated slowly, almost tasting the word itself.

There was genuine interest in his eyes now. As a giant and a veteran Marine officer, John Giant had witnessed countless weapons developed by the Government over the years. Battleships. Experimental artillery. Biological warfare projects. Giantification research. Most prototypes ended up discarded failures.

But this machine felt different. More deliberate. More dangerous. The idea of creating artificial soldiers powerful enough to rival elite fighters naturally drew the attention of someone like him. Especially in an era where monsters increasingly dominated the seas.

At the mention of the project, Vinsmoke Judge slowly turned away from the observation glass.

For the briefest moment, even Judge looked mildly surprised by the sudden appearance of a giant directly behind him. John Giant’s immense stature had that effect on most people. But the scientist recovered almost instantly.

His expression returned to cold indifference as his eyes followed the Vice Admiral’s line of sight toward the patrolling prototype below.

Then Judge scoffed. "That thing?" There was open disdain in his voice. "It’s junk."

The statement caused several nearby researchers to tense visibly. Below them, the prototype continued moving through its patrol route with mechanical precision, utterly unaware that one of the greatest scientific minds in the world had casually dismissed years of development as garbage.

But Judge remained unimpressed. "Vegapunk still hasn’t finalized the direction of the Pacifista project," he continued while adjusting his gloves slowly.

"He’s hesitating." John Giant crossed his massive arms. "Hesitating?" Judge’s lips curled faintly. "He’s waiting for the perfect test subject."

There was unmistakable mockery in his tone. To Judge, that flaw had always defined his former colleague. Dr. Vegapunk was a genius beyond reason — perhaps the greatest scientific mind alive — but he remained burdened by ideals. Burdened by morality. Burdened by perfectionism.

Vegapunk sought flawless results.

Judge sought results that worked. That difference separated them fundamentally. The Pacifista project itself embodied that divide perfectly. Vegapunk endlessly refined and improved the concept, searching for the ultimate fusion of humanity and weaponry. He obsessed over compatibility rates, combat optimization, mental stability, energy efficiency — every minute detail.

Meanwhile Judge saw the project through far simpler eyes. Efficiency. Mass production.

Kill capability. If a weapon could eliminate enemies effectively, then perfection was irrelevant. What Vegapunk did not know—what he had never known—was that the World Government quietly shared extensive portions of his Pacifista research with Judge behind closed doors.

Every blueprint. Every combat analysis. Every breakthrough. And Judge had been building upon that stolen knowledge for years beneath this underwater fortress. Not replicas. Something else entirely. His own variations. His own modifications. His own weapons.

Unlike Vegapunk’s carefully refined prototypes, Judge’s creations prioritized lethality above all else. Durability could be sacrificed. Stability could be ignored. Human survivability was meaningless. As long as the weapon fulfilled its purpose. The CP0 agent beside John Giant finally spoke, his voice unnaturally calm behind the porcelain mask.

"And your own progress, Director Judge?" The observation deck grew quieter instantly. Even John Giant subtly glanced toward Judge with renewed interest. The scientist’s eyes narrowed slightly. Then a thin smile spread slowly across his face.

Judge’s expression twitched faintly at the CP0 agent’s question. A trace of irritation surfaced immediately across his face. "Did I not submit the monthly report two days ago?" Vinsmoke Judge said coldly. "So why exactly are you—"

Then he stopped midway. A thought crossed his mind. Slowly, Judge’s eyes shifted toward the enormous figure of John Giant standing beside the masked Cipher Pol Zero operative. His gaze narrowed. Earlier, when Judge had casually mentioned Dr. Vegapunk, he had noticed it—briefly.

That tiny flicker of irritation crossing the giant Vice Admiral’s face. Subtle. Quickly hidden. But Judge was a scientist who spent his life dissecting human reactions. He didn’t miss details like that.

And now—the pieces clicked together instantly. For a brief second there was silence across the observation deck. Then Judge’s eyes widened.

"...Wait." A grin slowly spread across his face. "No..." The grin became manic amusement.

"DON’T TELL ME—" Judge suddenly burst into thunderous laughter so violently that several nearby researchers visibly flinched. "THAT BASTARD REJECTED YOU TOO?!"

The laughter echoed across the entire observation deck. Judge nearly doubled over holding his stomach, wheezing between breaths while pointing directly at the towering giant.

"HAHAHAHA!! Vegapunk turned down a giant?!" His laughter only intensified the more he thought about it. "A specimen like you?!"

Judge genuinely could not comprehend it. A giant voluntarily offering himself for experimentation was beyond rare. Giants possessed monstrous physiques naturally superior to ordinary humans in almost every measurable category—durability, strength, lifespan, growth potential, raw combat capability.

To scientists like Judge, they were treasures. And Vegapunk had refused? The absurdity of it nearly brought tears to Judge’s eyes from laughter. Meanwhile, John Giant’s face darkened visibly. The Vice Admiral’s massive hands clenched slightly beneath his Marine coat while veins bulged faintly near his temples.

Even years of military discipline struggled to suppress the humiliation that memory brought back. The CP0 agent stepped forward smoothly before the atmosphere could deteriorate further.

"Director Judge," the masked operative said calmly,"there is no need to antagonize the Vice Admiral." Judge gradually regained control of himself, though amusement still lingered heavily in his expression. The truth of the matter was simple.

The higher authorities within the World Government had viewed John Giant as a near-perfect candidate for the Pacifista program when he approached them for assistance. A giant possessing Vice Admiral-level combat capabilities already represented an extraordinary military asset. Enhancing such a specimen further through scientific augmentation could potentially create a weapon rivaling entire fleets alone.

Thus John Giant had been personally sent to Egghead Island. The World Government had expected Dr. Vegapunk to eagerly accept the proposal. Instead, Vegapunk had refused almost immediately. Citing ethical concerns. Long-term instability risks. Unknown consequences regarding giant physiology. Psychological degeneration probabilities.

In short, Vegapunk had once again allowed morality and caution to interfere with progress. John Giant had left Egghead humiliated. But he had not abandoned his pursuit. And eventually, another name surfaced before him. Vinsmoke Judge.

Unlike Vegapunk, Judge had absolutely no ethical boundaries restraining his ambitions. Normally, no Marine officer — not even a Vice Admiral — would ever be permitted near this underwater facility. The projects conducted here were too classified, too grotesque, even for most branches of the World Government itself.

But John Giant was too valuable to ignore. And Judge had spent years demanding access to more giant specimens for experimentation. This arrangement benefited everyone. At least on paper. Finally, John Giant spoke again, his deep voice rumbling through the observation deck like distant thunder.

"I was told..." The giant’s massive eyes settled firmly upon Judge. "...that you can make me stronger." The amusement slowly faded from Judge’s face. "That you can modify me into a living weapon." John Giant stepped forward heavily, the metal floor groaning beneath his immense weight. "A body capable of withstanding anything thrown at it."

His voice remained calm. But beneath that calmness—burned obsession. Pure obsession. The CP0 agent remained silent now, allowing the conversation to unfold naturally. Judge studied the Vice Admiral carefully. Not as a fellow man. But as material. As potential. As something waiting to be reshaped.

And the more he observed John Giant’s eyes, the more Judge realized something important. This wasn’t merely ambition. It was desperation. Years had passed since the incident that haunted John Giant endlessly. Yet even now, the humiliation remained carved into his soul like an open wound refusing to heal.

Donquixote Rosinante. That name alone caused the Vice Admiral’s expression to subtly distort. John Giant could still remember it perfectly. The overwhelming defeat. The crushing disparity. The absolute helplessness. A monster among monsters.

Back then, John Giant had believed himself powerful. A Marine giant possessing immense physical strength and Haki mastery. A future pillar of Marine Headquarters. Then Rosinante shattered that pride effortlessly.

And the cruelest part? As years passed, the gap only widened further. Rosinante had become something terrifying beyond reason. A figure carrying an active bounty exceeding six billion berries. A calamity even the World Government monitored carefully.

At this point, John Giant realistically understood something horrifying: He could no longer even dream of reaching Rosinante through ordinary means. The difference between them had surpassed talent, training, or battlefield experience. It had become existential.

But pride is not rational. John Giant could not let it go. Could not forget. Could not forgive. And so desperation eventually drove him here. To this abyss beneath the sea. To this mad scientist standing before him. To sacrifice even his own body if necessary in exchange for power.

Judge slowly smiled. Not mockingly this time. But with genuine interest. Because now he finally understood what stood before him. Not merely a giant. But a man willing to abandon his humanity for strength. And to a scientist like Judge—there was no better test subject than that.

"Well... that part is true." Vinsmoke Judge slowly adjusted his gloves as he looked up at the towering frame of John Giant, the blue glow of the abyss reflecting eerily across his glasses.

"I can grant you power." His voice echoed softly across the observation deck, almost drowned beneath the distant mechanical hum reverberating throughout the underwater facility.

"But..." Judge’s lips curled upward gradually into a smile that looked more unsettling the longer one stared at it. "The level of power you inherit..." His eyes sharpened behind the lenses. "...depends entirely on how far you’re willing to go."

A pause followed. "And more importantly..." The scientist’s grin widened into something genuinely inhuman. "...how much suffering you’re willing to endure." The surrounding researchers unconsciously lowered their eyes. Even several nearby guards stiffened slightly.

Because they knew. No one understood the horrors hidden within this facility better than the people working inside it. Judge did not create soldiers. He created monsters through agony. Gigantification surgeries. Lineage Factor rewrites. Artificial organ replacements. Genetic destabilization experiments.

Most subjects never survived long enough to see results. Others survived... but ceased being human afterward. Yet despite the implications behind Judge’s words, John Giant didn’t hesitate for even a second.

"I do not care." The giant Vice Admiral’s response came immediately. Firm. Heavy. Absolute. The massive Marine stared directly into Judge’s eyes without flinching. "I am willing to go to any lengths to obtain the power I seek."

His voice nearly growled by the end of the sentence. Not fear. Not uncertainty. Only obsession remained within him now. Years of frustration. Years of humiliation. Years spent chasing the shadow of Donquixote Rosinante only to watch that shadow grow larger and more unreachable with time.

John Giant had long since crossed the point where morality mattered. If sacrificing flesh, blood, or even humanity itself could grant him the strength he desired—then so be it. Judge stared at him silently for several moments.

Then suddenly—he laughed quietly to himself. Not mockingly this time. No. This laughter carried excitement. Because he knew. He had finally obtained the perfect specimen. A giant with Vice Admiral-level combat capability. A Haki user. An experienced battlefield veteran.

Most importantly—a giant desperate enough to willingly walk into hell for power. To a scientist like Judge, John Giant was a treasure beyond value. A creepy smile slowly spread across Judge’s face as possibilities began racing through his mind.

Enhanced musculature. Artificial exoskeletal integration. Weaponized lineage modifications. Gigantification refinement. Pacifista-grade reinforcement fused with giant physiology. The possibilities were endless.

"Well then..." Judge murmured softly. The lights of the laboratory reflected off his glasses, completely obscuring his eyes now. "In that case..." He spread one hand theatrically toward the deeper sectors of the facility. "Would you like a taste of the kind of power I can offer you, Vice Admiral?"

John Giant’s expression hardened slightly. The giant immediately understood something important. Judge wasn’t merely talking about theories or future promises. No—the scientist already possessed results.

Judge didn’t even wait for an answer. He turned immediately, his long cape fluttering behind him as he began walking toward one of the massive blast doors deeper within the station.

"Follow me, gentlemen." The gigantic reinforced doors ahead slowly began unlocking with thunderous metallic clanks one after another. Warning lights shifted from blue to crimson. Researchers along the adjacent corridors instinctively stepped aside as Judge passed, many deliberately avoiding eye contact entirely.

Because everyone within the facility knew one thing. The sectors Judge personally oversaw were the worst parts of the entire station. The scientist’s voice echoed calmly through the corridor as he walked.

"Let me show you..." A faint mechanical roar reverberated somewhere far below the facility. "...the fruits of my labor."

The blast doors finally opened completely. A wave of freezing air poured outward instantly. John Giant’s massive eyes narrowed. Beyond the doors stretched a colossal chamber descending deep into the abyss beneath the facility itself. Endless rows of containment tanks lined the darkness below, each one illuminated by dim artificial lights. Massive shadows floated motionlessly inside the enormous cylinders.

Some looked humanoid. Others very clearly were not. The sound of distant breathing echoed through the chamber. Heavy. Monstrous. Even the CP0 agent beside John Giant became noticeably quieter now as the true scale of Judge’s hidden research finally revealed itself. Meanwhile, Judge simply continued smiling. Proudly. Like a man presenting masterpieces within his private gallery of horrors.