Chapter 4: I Know It!
Caesar Clown was furious.
Utterly furious.
His anger came from two main sources.
The first was more immediate: "Vergil's" existence was a discovery that could shake the world.
But Crocodile had cut him out and taken Vergil away.
Yet, because his Poneglyph research violated World Government law, Caesar couldn't call for Marine backup. He couldn't escalate the situation openly, and he couldn't defeat Crocodile in a fight.
He could only watch, helpless, as his "epochal discovery" was snatched from under his nose.
That infuriated him.
The second, deeper source of his rage was directed at the man who always seemed to overshadow him: Vegapunk.
Who's the world's greatest scientist? This uncle is the real genius!
The two frustrations combined, giving Caesar an idea to vent his spleen.
He would activate one of Vegapunk's own defensive measures left on Punk Hazard—the Punk Dragon.
The "Punk Dragon" was a dragon-shaped artificial lifeform weapon invented by Vegapunk. Some pampered Celestial Dragon had taken a liking to the design and even named it. That kind of favoritism made Caesar's blood boil with jealousy.
So, under the pretext of "unidentified pirates invading Punk Hazard," Caesar activated it.
Two possible outcomes:
If the Punk Dragon defeated Crocodile, Caesar could reclaim "Vergil."
If Crocodile destroyed the Punk Dragon, Caesar could report the "misunderstanding" and use it to publicly question Vegapunk's technical prowess.
It was perfect.
Caesar could scheme at this level; so could Crocodile.
The latter's face darkened immediately.
He didn't want to make an enemy of the world's top scientist.
He really didn't want to be used as someone else's pawn.
So… flee?
As the thought crossed his mind, Crocodile glanced at Vergil and paused.
Vergil was staring at the diving dragon, his eyes gleaming with raw fascination. This newly-awakened "person" seemed enthralled by everything before him.
A dark idea took shape in Crocodile's mind.
In a swirl of sand, he flashed over to Caesar's gaseous form.
"Heheh… You like experiments, don't you?" Crocodile murmured, his voice low and grim. "Then I'll use your little toy here to test him."
Caesar understood instantly. Crocodile wanted to use the Punk Dragon to gauge Vergil's true capabilities.
Both men understood the other's constraints—neither could afford an all-out fight here. Mutual exploitation was the natural order.
Crocodile and Caesar withdrew, leaving Vergil alone on the field.
Vergil looked up at the dragon plummeting from the sky.
The roar in his ears was real, tangible—no longer the hazy impressions of his stone-bound past. He loved the sensation. The sheer audacity of the approaching threat made his heart pound, gripping onto the thrill of being truly alive.
"Hey!"
Vergil turned and shouted to the two observers. He pointed excitedly at the dragon. "Do I have to pay for it if I break it?"
His personality was just too… sunny.
Some on the seas might appreciate that. Crocodile and Caesar, both creatures of shadow and calculation, did not.
"Got it!"
Receiving no answer, Vergil didn't hesitate. He slammed a fist into his palm, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Then I'll go all out!"
He had so many theories to test, so much to learn. A chance to fight a dragon? That was the stuff of dreams!
"Come on!"
Vergil roared, activating his fruit once more.
Chīguǐ Form.
Twin horns sprouted, his frame swelling with dense muscle. He spread his arms, planted his feet, and tilted his head back to face the diving beast.
"ROAR—!"
The dragon's maw gaped, spewing a torrent of searing flame.
Whoosh!
Fire came before the dragon itself.
Just as the inferno was about to engulf him, Vergil thrust both hands forward.
The earth around him erupted upward, forming a thick, curved shield of packed soil and stone that met the flames head-on.
Chīguǐ, the Earth Demon, held dominion over land.
Vergil had simulated countless applications in his mind, but he was still a novice. A high wall stood between theory and practice.
And now, with freedom in his grasp, Vergil was utterly captivated by this precious, tangible "reality."
"Okay, I can do it!"
Vergil exclaimed, thrilled. "That's how you block fire!"
Using the Chīguǐ's power, he could raise shields of earth and stone to withstand heat and flame. He was lost in the joy of theory becoming practice.
He turned, about to share his triumph, and caught the looks on Crocodile and Caesar's faces.
A mix of surprise… and something stranger. Bewilderment?
"What…?"
Vergil started to ask, but he already sensed the answer.
The Punk Dragon was still diving.
After the breath of flame came the real impact—the sheer, crushing momentum of its nearly hundred-foot body.
BOOM!
Under that mass and velocity, the earthen shield shattered instantly. Vergil vanished beneath the dragon's colossal form.
Crash…
Dust billowed. The Punk Dragon reared its head, letting out a deafening roar of victory.
"ROOOAR—!"
The invader was crushed. It had won.
"Tch! What the hell is he doing?!" Crocodile stared, dumbfounded.
A mighty Mythical Zoan… taken out by an artificial dragon like that?
And watching his performance, Crocodile spotted a glaring flaw: the man named Vergil possessed a profound lack of combat experience.
Who are you? To celebrate blocking the first attack so completely that you forget the follow-up?
"What a disappointment…"
Crocodile scoffed coldly, stepping forward to deal with the dragon himself.
Then, from within the swirling dust, a figure shot upward, landing atop the dragon's skull.
It was Vergil.
Still in his Chīguǐ form, moving with a feral grace. In one hand, he gripped a massive, crude hammer forged from solid earth and stone—hard as steel.
He raised it high, then brought it down squarely on the Punk Dragon's head.
"HAH!"
THUD!
A dull, crushing impact echoed. The dragon had no time to dodge. The monstrous strength of the Earth Demon poured through the hammer into its skull.
The creature's eyes rolled back. Foam flecked its jaws. Its head caved inward with a sickening crunch.
The massive body shuddered, then went limp, collapsing to the ground with a final tremor. Dead.
Pat.
Vergil landed lightly, planting a foot on the fallen dragon. The Chīguǐ form receded, melting back to his flawless human shape—unmarked, without a single scratch.
He hefted the earthen hammer, slinging it over one shoulder. Brushing dust from his hair, his eyes flashed a deep crimson. A few sharp fangs still lingered in his grin.
That face should have been fierce, terrifying. But paired with Vergil's simple, joyous expression, it took on a strangely "pure" quality that was even more unsettling.
He laughed, exhilarated.
"Haha! That's how you slay a dragon!"
He looked down at Crocodile and Caesar, spat out a mouthful of light, dusty residue, and beamed a bright, sunny smile.
"See? I can do it too!"
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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