– Bellamy –

Getting Myskina Olga and her father settled in at Baltigo Base hadn't been very difficult. If anything, the revolutionaries had been excited to have someone like Alcier join them, if only in an unofficial capacity. After all, no military organization could possibly say no to a skilled potion master setting up shop nearby.

The real issue arose in trying to hide his identity. If it had been just Alcier, a simple name change would have sufficed and no one would have been the wiser. Even the revolutionaries wouldn't have had a clue that the man supplying them with exotic pharmaceutical products was, in fact, the fabled creator of the Pure Gold. After all, that legendary alchemist had disappeared two hundred years ago, which was way longer than the average human lifespan.

The problem, as it usually tended to be, was the child. Over the course of her reckless and hasty attempt to recover her inheritance, Olga hadn't given much heed to the concept of operational security. As a consequence of which, both the World Government and just about every information broker out there, were well aware of her lineage. Thus, by virtue of being her father, Alcier had to be a resident of Alchemi too.

Understandably, this state of affairs represented a rather large obstacle, when it came to fulfilling the Myskinas' dream of starting a new and peaceful life. Which had made Luffy's decision to let them go on their merry way at the end of the movie, without putting any protective measures in place…baffling to me. To be perfectly frank, the assumption that the pair would have survived for any length of time beyond the end of the movie seemed rather optimistic. The much more likely scenario would have seen Alcier and Olga being kidnapped by one party or another within days of them waving goodbye to the Straw Hats.

Since I had promised to provide them with (the funds for) a new start, I felt a form of obligation to ensure this new phase of their lives didn't end with them waking up in a secret government facility. I could probably have asked Marco or even Shanks for a favor and gotten the matter settled that way, but then again, I wasn't a charity and approaching them with this issue would have meant spending some of the favors I had accumulated.

Thus, when eliminating them from the pool of possible patrons, my choices essentially boiled down to the Revolutionary Army. Not only were they a military organization experienced in maintaining operational security, they also required the sort of services Alcier's cover identity could provide on a large scale. One could even argue that the Revolutionary Army would owe me a favor for facilitating Alcier's resettlement into their heartland. That this arrangement ensured a steady stream of income for the Myskina family was the cherry on top. Even if they wouldn't need to work a day for the rest of their lives with the amount of money we'd paid them for the Pure Gold.

In the end, no easy solution had presented itself to me, which had prompted me to go for a frontal assault by telling Sabo the truth. He was Luffy's adoptive brother after all, and for all his faults Luffy was a fantastic judge of character. Not that I would have disagreed with him, because having personally met the Chief of Staff, I was inclined to share Luffy's opinion. Sabo was trustworthy.

Whether or not he was dependable was a different matter entirely. Before today, the decision would have been an easy yes, but as I gazed across the table, where the slack-jawed blonde was staring at me like an idiot, my brain had begun having second thoughts.

"Wait a minute. You've brought who to my base?!?" Sabo eventually asked me once he had picked his jaw up from the floor. I was far from impressed.

"Whom." I corrected him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Whom. The correct wording would be to ask whom I've brought to your base." I replied, idly inspecting my chocolate chip cookie. "But yes, Alcier is the original creator of the legendary Pure Gold."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I assure you, I'm not."

Letting out a sound which was somewhere between a groan and a sigh, Sabo slumped back into his seat, looking very drained all of a sudden. The way he tiredly rubbed at his eyes further added to this image.

"Why, Bellamy? Why?"

"You know, I'm picking up a distinct lack of gratitude. Shouldn't you be thankful I've helped you recruit such a talented individual?" I asked somewhat flippantly before popping the sweet snack into my mouth.

"Not when you've painted a giant target on our backs!" Sabo exclaimed, his eyes taking on a manic quality. "The World Government is going to be out for blood after this!"

"Oh please, drop the act will you? There's no way that someone in your position won't see the benefits Alcier can bring to the table. Plus, it's not like his presence can make the World Government want your collective heads any more than they already do."

"…touché."

"And if you're that worried about it, you can always hide them behind some new identities, can't you? One would think that something like that would be right up your alley."

"Just because it is, doesn't mean it's easy. The required paperwork alone is horrendous." Sabo dryly replied, going from imitating a hamster about to burst into tears to the veteran Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army within the blink of an eye. "Just for the record, I don't appreciate you causing a mess and forcing me to clean it up after you."

"It's hardly cleaning up if you are immensely benefiting from it, is it? That's what you call an investment." I pointed out before throwing out a metaphorical lure. "And if I recall correctly, our arrangement was that I'd do the occasional mission in exchange for a safe berth for me and mine. Which naturally includes my associates. I can appoint the Myskina's as my associates if you prefer to do it that way."

"There's no need to go that far. We'll protect them from the World Government. Helping those who can't help themselves is kind of our mission anyway." Sabo hurriedly declined my offer, rising to take the bait when I suggested moving the world's only alchemist from his chain of command into mine. "Though, I am a bit confused as to why you're letting them go so easily. Aren't you worried you'll lose your monopoly on the Pure Gold?"

"Not really."

"Would you mind if I asked for your reasoning?"

"Apart from Alcier's refusal to have anything to do with the substance which led to the death of his wife?" To his credit, Sabo did wince a bit. Being the good person he was, Sabo would find it rather difficult to ignore this little emotional hurdle I was setting in his way, which added another layer of safety for Alcier. And even if this should prove to be insufficient, I had another far more convincing argument up my sleeve. "Do correct me if I'm wrong, but does the Revolutionary Army have the funds to spare for such an endeavor?"

"We can always reshuffle the budget. Something as valuable as the Pure Gold could be a huge source of revenue."

"That is if you ever figure out how to produce it. Without Alcier's help, it's going to take you centuries at the very least to crack the code, in addition to who knows how much money." I said, calling his bluff. "You'd be far better served using those funds to purchase more guns and keep your current momentum rolling."

"True that." Sabo nodded, not seeming too bothered. As his earlier jab hadn't been meant to land a hit anyway, he'd lost nothing. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about before we get to work on finding Mr. Myskina a new name?"

"Just one more thing. The Pure Gold."

"Weren't we finished with that topic?"

"Alcier might not be making more of it, but there's still the matter of what little he already put out into the world." I told him. "A full third of which is in my possession."

"You're rich. Congratulations." Sabo's eyes, which had begun perking up a little, did a hundred and eighty shift to resemble those of a dead fish, while his voice went very, very flat.

"Well, now you guys are." With that, I tossed the little casket holding the treasure in Sabo's direction, before tacking on the following. "That right there, is a sizable portion of my share of the Pure Gold."

"Not to come off as aggressive, but what's the meaning of this?" Sabo's eyes narrowed in suspicion, though there was no hiding the slight tremble in his voice.

"Call it an investment of my own."

"In the Revolutionary Army? Not sure if you're aware, but we aren't a corporations with stock options."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Don't be daft, Sabo. I'm investing in myself. And my Crew."

"I'm not sure I understand, so please explain this to me." Sabo requested, placing the casket on the coffee table between us. "What do you hope to gain by doing this?"

There had been many ways with which to answer his question, beginning with an explanation that the Pure Gold was practically useless to me at the moment. Liquidating such an asset was always going to be a hassle because putting it up for auction was just asking to be robbed, and even if I were to receive my payment, my treasure hold was filled to the brim right now with no great foreseeable expenses on the horizon.

Not to mention that the Pure Gold's greatest potential benefit acted more as a detriment in our case. Basically, the light given off by it put the physical development of the body in stasis, meaning that as long as I was in contact with the light, I could kiss any further gains from training goodbye. Considering the threats I was going to be facing in the near future, I couldn't afford to handicap myself nor my crew like that.

I could worry about going immortal once I had dealt with Doffy and the Yonko, if I even wanted to have eternal youth in the first place. While I loved the idea of a long and fulfilling life, the notion of staying around forever seemed so very tiring and lonely. The latter I might be able to alleviate a bit by handing out Pure Gold rings to my friends and future family, but where would it end? Their friends and family? Their friends' friends? Their friend's friends' friends? I was going to have to draw a line somewhere and people were always going to be unhappy if I did that.

No, while I might change my mind later, I didn't want eternal life at this point and hence, the Pure Gold lost most of its appeal to me. Such that I had no compunctions about spending it to obtain what I wanted.

"Sabo."

"Yes?"

"How much would you say that Dragon's time is worth?"

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– Laki –

Synergy.

A word ostensibly originating from a now defunct language and meaning the interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects. As she gazed lovingly at the fruit of her labors, Laki could think of no better word to describe her new baby.

Beautifully sleek and magnificent to behold, its form reflected the many, many sleepless nights spent hammering out the shape to be just right, in the same manner that its interior mechanisms were silent witnesses to the blood, sweat and tears which had been shed over the course of their creation. Hers and that of her companions.

While normally, Laki wouldn't be one to brag, but in this one circumstance she could proudly proclaim that her new rifle had no equal in the world…bar one. But considering that the rival was the sibling to her own baby, this did little to diminish the sheer incredibility of the feat they had achieved. Neither did the fact that it had taken them the entire trip back to Baltigo Base and then some before making any real progress.

Alchemy, like gunsmithing, was delicate work which required a well set up laboratory to showcase its full potential. By nature, a ship, no matter how large, simply wasn't up to the task of providing a stable foundation to ensure Alcier could control and maintain optimal conditions for the thousands of alchemical reactions he needed to oversee. Not to mention that learning how to combine two very foreign disciplines, like alchemy and dial mechanics, into a functional whole had been a rather explosive process. Again, something that the interior of a ship wasn't wholly suited for.

But despite these difficult conditions, Laki and Alcier had kept at it with Izou (and Rivers) pitching in occasionally, until their design began to assume a corporeal form in the weeks that followed. Until at last, a full half year after Laki had first witnessed the power of Izou's firearms at Marineford, she was the proud wielder of a rifle she was certain would become her partner for the rest of her mortal life.

Izou himself had noted, that at full power, her rifle would likely be able to sink the average maritime vessel in a single shot and even send the lumbering marine battleships to the bottom of the sea with a bit of effort. The caveat being, that there wasn't a senior officer on board who could reinforce the ship with his own haki. What pleased Laki even more, was that thanks to Alcier's alchemical alloys, the gun barrel wasn't going to need replacing any time soon, even if she were to maintain her rifle's maximum output.

Realistically, she wouldn't though, as limiting herself to simply being a walking and talking artillery piece would be akin to Mihawke refusing to use anything other than the pommel to fight. While he no doubt could and probably emerge victorious against most opponents, it wouldn't change the fact that his tactical flexibility would be drastically reduced.

And unlike Rivers, who had opted to go back to using boring old ballistic projectiles, Laki's rifle had…options. That was the good thing about dials. You could store such a wide variety of things in them that imbuing her plasma with their properties became a viable option. Sadly, Alcier hadn't yet managed to figure out how to give her shots the ability to knock her targets into sub-zero temperature. However, the sheer breadth of elemental choices available to her already should make countering a logia's ability a much more manageable task.

Unfortunately for Rivers, his ultimate goal of obtaining an endless stream of sea-stone bullets via alchemical means would have to wait a while longer, because Alcier had been liberated kidnapped by Muret and Law to work on their pet project, before the poor man could get any rest and relaxation in. Namely, Eddy's new pair of lungs.

Simply put, with a perfectly good pair of New World grade lungs being dropped into their lap, courtesy of Mad Treasure, there hadn't been a reason to wait until Law could procure a set later. As such, the pair of doctors had set about the arduous task of optimizing the organ to suit their purposes. Unfortunately, that had been easier said than done due to a number of reasons Laki didn't fully understand, but systemic disorders occurring due to dysfunctional immune responses and potentially ending in multiple organ failure had sounded pretty bad.

Another mystery Laki wasn't able to solve, was how the pair had managed to keep the lungs fresh and alive until Alcier could be convinced to join them, but Laki had eventually given up and put it down to devil fruit absurdity. But, if one were to believe Bellamy, that little trick had been nothing worth writing home about, when compared to the sheer ridiculousness that followed once Alcier had been recruited to the project.

To paraphrase her captain, they had succeeded in reassembling the cellular makeup of the lungs at a molecular level, turning what should have been a foreign implant into something that Eddy's body recognized as being an inherent part of a flawless whole. Essentially, using Mad Treasure's lungs as a base, they had recreated Eddy's lost lungs down to the immunological markers on the surface of the cells, albeit in a far better trained state than the originals had ever been.

Still, medical and scientific impossibility aside, Eddy had been a changed man once he'd come out of surgery, though the navigator had admitted that changing his combat style again would be far too inefficient. Not that he really had to, because being able to breathe properly had clearly made a difference.

When he'd first been wounded, Eddy's proposed solution had been to maximize his own efficiency. Efficiency of movement, efficiency of respiration, efficiency of posture and most of all, efficiency of technique. Eddy's quest to answer the question of how to swing a sword as quickly as possible with the least amount of strain possible, had forcibly adjusted the paths Eddy's swords could take until everything had been stripped away that was wasteful or sloppy.

Izou's lessons had built upon this foundation by providing Eddy with a direction and by teaching him how to combine the basic components Eddy had distilled his swordsmanship down into, until he'd come up with a style Eddy could call his own. Now, his new lungs had completed the picture, removing the last limiters the navigator had and opening a host of new avenues for him to explore.

In other words, whereas before ending a fight as quickly as possible had been a necessity, now it had become a choice.

And surely, that was something to celebrate.