Chapter 86: Sowing the Seeds

The greatest lies are the ones people discover for themselves.

If you hand someone a secret, they’ll scrutinize it.

But if they have to bleed to steal it, they’ll defend its authenticity to the death.

That was the foundational doctrine of our Month One.

We didn’t just announce the Celestial Elixir to the world, we buried it, forcing the world’s most paranoid information brokers to dig it up.

The Titan’s Glory anchored in a dense fog bank off the coast of a major New World trade hub known as Spider Miles.

From there, the Verdant Abyss splintered into the shadows.

Deep in the subterranean vaults of Spider Miles, a high-ranking underworld broker named ‘Silver-Tongue’ Vane was currently counting a massive stack of illicit munitions money.

The steel door to his vault was three feet thick, guarded by a dozen armed mercenaries.

Inside the vault, the air suddenly warped into a faint blue sphere.

“Room.”

Law materialized directly behind Vane, his Nodachi resting lazily on his shoulder.

Before the broker could even gasp, Bepo dropped from the ceiling rafters, his Nega-Ring flashing as he delivered a blindingly fast, kinetic-enhanced nerve strike to the back of Vane’s neck.

The broker crumpled to the floor, completely unconscious.

Law stepped over him, approaching the primary safe.

He didn’t bother cracking the combination.

“Shambles.” With a flick of his fingers, a stack of gold bars inside the safe swapped places with a folded, heavy parchment document.

It was a forged shipping manifest, perfectly stamped with Donquixote Doflamingo’s infamous Jolly Roger.

The manifest clearly detailed the secure, highly classified transport of “Item: Celestial Elixir (Qty: 3)” to the royal palace of Dressrosa.

“Drop made,” Law murmured, adjusting his spotted hat.

Bepo gave a sharp nod.

“Should I tie him up?”

“No,” Law replied, the blue sphere expanding again to cover the vault’s exterior walls.

“Let him wake up.

Let him find the manifest in his own safe.

He’ll think one of Joker’s couriers was using his vault as a dead drop.

He’ll sell the information to the highest bidder within the hour.”

With another flick of the Nodachi, Law and Bepo vanished from the vault, leaving the poison pill waiting to be swallowed.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in the South Blue, a secure, heavily encrypted Den-Den Mushi rang inside a hidden Revolutionary Army base.

Commander Jasmine picked up the receiver, a spark of blue lightning dancing across her knuckles.

“Speak.”

“Hello, Commander,” Robin’s calm, sophisticated voice echoed through the snail, the eyestalks taking on the archaeologist’s serene expression.

“Your brother sends his regards.”

Jasmine’s sharp demeanor instantly melted into a massive, genuine grin.

“Robin!

I saw the papers.

Victor bisected an island!

Tell that idiot I’m incredibly proud, but if he gets himself killed before visiting me, I’ll resurrect him just to fry him.”

“I will pass along the threat,” Robin chuckled softly.

“But right now, we need a favor.

I am transmitting a set of data files.

They are highly classified blueprints and medical logs from Dr.

Vegapunk’s abandoned research facilities.”

The fax-attachment on Jasmine’s Den-Den Mushi began to whir, printing out pages of incredibly detailed, authentic-looking World Government documents.

Jasmine picked one up, her eyes scanning the complex chemical formulas for something called a ‘panacea.’

“This is incredible,” Jasmine breathed, her strategic mind already spinning.

“If the World Government gets their hands on this…”

“They don’t have it,” Robin interrupted smoothly.

“But the underworld broker known as Joker does.

We need these documents circulated through the black market.

Fast.

Make sure every pirate captain, arms dealer, and Emperor’s informant knows exactly what the Celestial Elixir is capable of.”

Jasmine didn’t ask questions.

She trusted her brother’s crew implicitly.

“Consider it done.

I’ll push it through our deepest intelligence pipelines.

By tomorrow, Vegapunk’s ‘miracle drug’ will be the most sought-after myth on the Grand Line.”

While Law planted the physical proof and Robin handled the lore, I took care of the Marines.

I didn’t sneak around.

I walked right through the front door.

I docked the Titan’s Glory at Marine Base G-14 for a “routine Warlord resupply.” The base commander, a sweating, terrified Commodore who had clearly read the newspaper about my fight with Kaido, gave me wide berth and absolute clearance.

I sat in the base’s VIP lounge, sipping terrible Marine coffee.

I pulled out my secure Government-issued Den-Den Mushi.

I knew for a fact that Marine Intelligence, particularly the Cipher Pol divisions, actively wiretapped Warlord communications.

They were paranoid.

I was banking on it.

I tapped the snail, leaving the encryption key intentionally unlatched by a fraction of a millimeter.

Just enough for a skilled wiretapper to slip through.

“Law, it’s Victor,” I spoke into the receiver, keeping my voice low, imitating a man trying to have a private conversation.

“I’m here,” Law replied, playing his part perfectly.

“The intel is confirmed,” I said, leaning closer to the snail.

“Doflamingo actually has it.

Vegapunk’s Celestial Elixir.

Three vials.

He’s keeping them in Dressrosa.

If that medicine hits the open market, it’s going to completely upend the balance of power.

We need to secure it before Kaido or Big Mom finds out it exists.”

I abruptly hung up the snail, severing the connection.

Somewhere in a dark room in Marineford, an intelligence officer had just recorded the entire conversation.

The World Government now believed Doflamingo was hoarding a miracle drug.

The seeds were planted.

Now, it was time to water them.

The headquarters of the World Economy News Paper was a massive, heavily fortified blimp that constantly drifted through the skies of the New World, completely untethered from any single island.

Morgans, the avian president of the paper, prided himself on being untouchable.

He wasn’t.

I stood on the deck of the Titan’s Glory, miles below the blimp.

I closed my eyes, letting my Fa-Jin pool in my shadow.

“Come out.

The Wildcard.”

The shadows at my feet stretched and tore, giving birth to the Night-Terror Ferret.

The sleek, obsidian-jade construct chittered quietly, its red eyes glowing.

I handed it a small, locked metal briefcase.

“Shadow-Skip,” I commanded.

“Morgans’ private office.

Drop it on his desk.

Don’t be seen.”

The ferret dissolved into absolute darkness, sinking into the floorboards.

Thousands of feet above, inside the luxurious, paper-strewn office of the WEP blimp, Morgans was screaming at his editors about printing deadlines.

He turned his back to his massive mahogany desk for exactly three seconds to pour a cup of tea.

When he turned back around, a metal briefcase was sitting perfectly in the center of his blotter.

There was no sound.

No broken windows.

Just the briefcase, with a single piece of paper taped to the top.

Morgans, his journalistic curiosity overriding his paranoia, ripped the paper off.

The biggest scoop of the era is inside.

Open it.

Morgans popped the latches.

Inside the briefcase were copies of the forged Vegapunk documents, the shipping manifest from Spider Miles, and a heavy, gold-embossed envelope containing the final, lethal piece of the puzzle.

Morgans pulled out the letter.

His beak dropped open, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates as he read the anonymous tip.

“Joker…

the Celestial Elixir…” Morgans whispered, his feathers trembling with absolute thrill.

“An auction in Dressrosa…

in exactly two months…!”

Then, he read the final line of the tip.

The poison pill.

“…Highly exclusive.

Invite-only.

Entry strictly dictated by Donquixote Doflamingo.”

Morgans dropped his teacup.

It shattered on the floor, but he didn’t care.

He threw his wings up in the air, a maniacal laugh escaping his beak.

“STOP THE PRESSES!” Morgans roared, sprinting out of his office and terrifying his entire staff.

“SCRAP THE FRONT PAGE!

WE HAVE THE STORY OF THE CENTURY!

PRINT IT NOW!”

Down below, on the ocean surface, the Night-Terror Ferret materialized from my shadow, chittering a successful report before dissolving back into jade energy.

I looked up at the sky, a cold, satisfied smile crossing my face.

Month One was over.

The lie had become reality.

The world was about to catch fire.

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For more chapters

Curtis Branscum, Vince, Eric