Chapter 118

Redfield was sent to the sixth floor of Impel Down. If nothing unexpected happens, he will spend the rest of his life there.

Garp was also on the warship, responsible for escorting him. Given Redfield's condition, even if he woke up, he wouldn't be able to cause any trouble.

Carl watched the warship escorting Redfield gradually disappear from sight, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Lucia walked to Carl's side, staring at his profile, and softly asked, "Young Master, what are you thinking about?"

Carl put away his thoughts, smiled at Lucia, and said, "Thinking of a Devil Fruit."

Ever since hearing the news about Redfield in Mary Geoise, the name of a Devil Fruit has been stuck in Carl's mind. It was the fruit that originally belonged to Redfield, one that seemed perfectly suited for him: the Bat-Bat Fruit, Mythical Zoan, Vampire Form!

Like all Mythical Zoan fruits, the Vampire Fruit not only grants a far greater degree of physical enhancement than ordinary Zoan fruits, but it also has a unique ability—to achieve eternal youth by absorbing blood. This means that its user will never have to worry about aging affecting their strength.

These abilities alone make the Vampire Fruit a top-tier one, not to mention its other practical uses. Carl had already decided that it would be his second Devil Fruit.

He knew where the Vampire Fruit was stored—within the ruins of the ancient town. But to retrieve it, he would need someone who could read the ancient texts.

For Carl, finding Robin wouldn't be difficult—he just needed to go to Ohara. However, Robin was still a 3-year-old child, and no matter how brilliant, she couldn't yet understand such complex texts. Fortunately, Robin's mother, Nico Olivia, was an expert and would be able to assist.

With a plan in mind, Carl turned to Lucia. "Lucia, have the warship return. We'll head back to the Navy Headquarters first."

Lucia nodded obediently and went to relay Carl's order.

After returning to Marineford, Carl immediately contacted Spandam via Den Den Mushi, assigning him the task of locating Nico Olivia. Spandam, now the commander-in-chief of CP9, was highly skilled in intelligence gathering and was eager to fulfill Carl's request.

Within a few days, Spandam delivered results—Olivia had been found, and she was on an expedition fleet bound for Alabasta.

In the Admiral's office, Carl reviewed the information with a smile. He suspected Olivia's trip to Alabasta was to interpret the historical texts there, validating the accuracy of the intelligence. It wouldn't be a wasted trip.

Tapping his fingers on the table, Carl thought for a moment before contacting Lucia again. "Lucia, prepare the warship. We're heading to Alabasta."

Meanwhile, in the first half of the Grand Line, somewhere near Alabasta, Nico Olivia stood at the bow of a ship, holding a small box in her hands. As the land drew nearer, a sense of excitement filled her eyes. She had received news of a historical text in Alabasta and was determined to uncover its secrets.

One of the crew members approached her. "Olivia, we've contacted the royal family of Alabasta. They've granted us passage through the port."

Olvia nodded. "Did they ask what our purpose is?"

"I told them we were scholars from Ohara on a research mission. They welcomed us."

Ohara was still respected worldwide at this time. Stroking her white hair, Olvia glanced down at the box in her hands. With a sad smile, she whispered, "You would be happy, wouldn't you? We'll soon see the main text of history."

The box contained the ashes of her late husband, who, like her, had been obsessed with uncovering the world's truth. As her crewmates stood in quiet mourning, a voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Historical text? Sounds like I've stumbled upon something interesting."

The group was instantly alarmed. Olivia was the first to react, swiftly drawing a pistol and scanning the deck, but no one seemed to be around. Then, the voice spoke again.

"Don't bother looking. I'm up here."

Everyone glanced upwards and saw a young man perched atop the ship's mast, observing them with a playful smile. His cloak billowed in the wind, revealing the word "Justice" emblazoned on the back—a symbol that should have offered comfort, but instead, it filled the scholars with dread.

Olivia narrowed her eyes and pointed her pistol at the man. "Who are you?"

Without a word, the young man leapt from the nearly 30-meter-high mast, landing gracefully on the deck as though he had merely stepped down from a ledge. The scholars stood frozen in shock—not at his jump, but at his uniform, indicating his rank.

This was no ordinary man—he was an Admiral of the Navy!

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