As Kiwanu scribbled notes into his tattered notebook, Gale stared at him blankly, his eyes full of the kind of raw indignation one might have if the pudgy scientist had evicted his elderly parents from their home and then kicked his infant child in the shin for good measure.
Still, despite the soul-sucking monotony of the never-ending tests, Gale endured. Not because he couldn't refuse—but because, as much as he hated to admit it, the results were immensely helpful.
Thanks to Kiwanu's obsessive experiments, he had discovered a great deal about his newly acquired power.
For one, he couldn't increase the density of something that had zero density in the first place—though Kiwanu wasn't sure if this was a limitation of the ability itself or simply Gale's lack of mastery.
He also learned that his power didn't work on living beings… except himself. It only affected inanimate objects, and only those he was in direct contact with.
Even after letting go, the effects would linger for a limited time. The longest so far had been one minute, but Gale couldn't control the duration precisely yet.
He could increase or decrease the density of objects—and even himself—but only within a specific range, not endlessly. Again, Kiwanu suspected this was just a matter of skill.
Gale mulled over these discoveries, turning them over in his mind, trying to make sense of what they meant in a practical sense.
His thoughts, however, were violently shattered when he suddenly noticed Kiwanu tying a rope around his waist with an unsettlingly casual expression.
Gale blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then panicked.
His body snapped to attention as an icy realization crawled up his spine.
They weren't in the workshop anymore.
They were on the beach.
For a moment, he had no idea how they had gotten here.
Then, like a delayed gut punch, he remembered—somewhere between Kiwanu's relentless tests and his own exhaustion, the old man had dragged him out here.
And now?
Now, judging by the thick rope secured firmly around his waist…
He had a very, very bad feeling about what was coming next.
Gale gave the elderly scientist a dry look, crossing his arms. "What the hell are you doing?"
Kiwanu spared him a quick glance and flashed a casual smile. "Tying a rope around your waist."
Gale could feel a tick mark forming on his forehead at those words. "I can see that… but why though?"
Kiwanu smiled at him again, completely unfazed. "To throw you into the sea."
The words were so outrageous that Gale momentarily failed to process them properly.
"Oh. So you just want to throw me into the ocean... cool..."
He repeated it absently, his blank expression slowly shifting—his brow twitching, his mouth tightening—as realization dawned on him.
"What THE HELL WOULD YOU WANT TO GO AND DO THAT FOR?!"
His patience snapped. His fist flew forward, aiming to wipe that insufferable look of calm off Kiwanu's face.
But the old scientist was quick. With a smooth, practiced motion, he ducked under the punch, all while pulling the rope taut and fastening the knot firmly against Gale's back.
"To see if you'd really sink," Kiwanu answered matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Gale's eye twitched. "You don't need to test that! I've seen it with my own eyes—Devil Fruit users lose their strength and turn into anchors the moment they hit the sea!"
Kiwanu gave him a look—a look that very clearly said "And?"—before scoffing. "What good would that do me? I need to see it for myself."
Hearing that, Gale's face darkened.
His fist slowly clenched, and he began raising its density, preparing to whack Kiwanu right over the head with it.
Sensing the promise of violence in Gale's glare, Kiwanu sheepishly cleared his throat and took a cautious step back.
"What I meant to say is... seeing something and experiencing it are two completely different things."
He pointed at Gale, eyes sharp despite his casual tone. "Don't you want to know just how weak you actually become in seawater? Experiencing these things in a controlled environment will help you react properly if it ever happens to you out there."
Kiwanu then gestured toward the blue horizon.
Gale followed the direction of his finger, then flicked a suspicious look back at the old scientist. He knew this was mostly just sophistry—an excuse for Kiwanu to satisfy his own curiosity under the guise of research. But at the same time… he couldn't really argue with the logic.
His lips pressed into a thin line before he let out a slow, resigned sigh. "Fine."
Kiwanu's face lit up, clearly pleased. "Wise choice."
He patted the rope around Gale's waist with confidence. "No need to worry, I already tied the other end to one of the trees."
Gale turned, following the rope with his eyes until he spotted the thick trunk it was securely fastened to. At least he's thorough…
With another sigh, he reached for his shirt and began to pull it off—only to struggle as the rope caught onto the fabric. 'Damn thing's in the way…' He yanked at it a few more times before finally managing to pry it free, tossing it onto the sand.
As he stood there, Kiwanu's gaze flickered over the wave-like tattoos decorating Gale's chest, back, and arms. His expression turned momentarily curious, but he said nothing.
Meanwhile, Gale took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "You better pull me out fast, old man," he warned as he started walking toward the sea.
The water lapped at his ankles as he muttered, "Otherwise, I swear I'll turn into a ghost and haunt your damn workshop for the rest of your life."
"Easy does it..." Gale muttered, taking a cautious step forward as the cool crashed against his legs.
With every slow step, the water crept higher—first his knees, then his thighs. He paused, glancing down at himself before casting a wary look around. Nothing felt off. No sudden weakness, no sluggishness in his limbs.
Weird.
Scratching his head, he reached back and gave the rope around his waist a firm tug, making sure it was still secure. Satisfied, he took another step.
Then another.
By the time he stopped, the water was already at chest level. He clenched his fists, bracing himself for something—but still, there was nothing.
A deep frown settled onto his face.
Gale took a steadying breath before lifting both feet off the ocean floor, tentatively paddling his arms. His body remained afloat.
Wait... what?
His arms faltered, and for a moment, his brain simply refused to process what was happening. That's not— He tried kicking his legs again, and sure enough, he stayed afloat.
His confusion was so profound he swore he could feel question marks physically materializing above his head—smaller ones orbiting the bigger ones in a halo of profound bewilderment.
His face twisted in an odd mix of shock and utter disbelief as he turned to Kiwanu. The old scientist stood at the shoreline, watching him intently, hands tucked behind his back, eyes sharp with fascination—like he was observing some rare, exotic specimen in its natural habitat.
Gale opened his mouth, but before he could demand an explanation, Kiwanu simply lifted a finger and pointed in his direction.
That did nothing to clarify the situation. If anything, it only deepened his confusion.
But then—
A faint glow caught his eye.
Gale looked down, and his breath hitched. His wave-like tattoos were glowing—a deep, eerie blue, pulsing faintly as if in direct reaction to the seawater surrounding him.
He instantly panicked.
As undeniably cool as the glowing tattoos looked, no human with even a shred of common sense would react positively to their body suddenly lighting up like some kind of radioactive hazard.
His mind churned through a chaotic spiral of wild thoughts.
Is this safe?
Is it toxic?
Is it radioactive?!
Why the hell am I glowing?!
Wait, are these tattoos all over my body?
If so… is my dick glowing right now?!
Before his ridiculous mental spiral could reach even dumber heights, a sharp thunk echoed through the air as a piece of wood smacked against his head.
Ow—
Gale jerked his head up, glaring daggers at Kiwanu, who was now holding an old megaphone—where he got it from was a mystery Gale didn't even want to question at this point. The elderly scientist casually cleared his throat before speaking, his voice amplified far louder than necessary.
"Your resistance to seawater clearly has something to do with the inscriptions on your body, seeing as they're glowing—but we'll get to that later."
Gale frowned at Kiwanu's wording. Inscriptions? Not tattoos?
The way he said it made something itch in the back of Gale's brain, but before he could overthink it, Kiwanu continued.
"For now… pick up that piece of wood and see if you can still use your Devil Fruit ability."
...
The night had already fallen by the time Kiwanu finished all the tests he wanted to perform.
Gale now sat slouched in a chair inside the elderly scientist's workshop, idly slicing an apple with a small knife. His expression was distant, lost somewhere between exhaustion and mild irritation. Every few seconds, he popped a piece into his mouth, chewing slowly as his thoughts drifted over the results of their experiments.
It turned out that the tattoos on his body weren't really tattoos.
They were more like… birthmarks.
Gale had blinked at that revelation, staring at Kiwanu like he'd just spoken an entirely different language. Birthmarks? How the hell could birthmarks look like that?
Kiwanu had been equally skeptical, narrowing his eyes as he asked how Gale could mistake something he'd supposedly had since birth for tattoos.
Gale had answered with a technically true white lie.
He told Kiwanu that he had no recollection of his life before waking up on the shore of the island, aside from general knowledge about the world. Which wasn't exactly a lie—he really had no idea how the original owner of this body had ended up here, or if there even was an original owner before him.
Kiwanu had taken that explanation in stride, humming in thought before moving on.
And the results of all the tests?
Simple.
Other than allowing Gale to maintain his ability to swim, the tattoos—birthmarks—whatever they were, didn't seem to do anything else. He still couldn't use his Devil Fruit powers in water, and that was about it.
As for their source, origin, or why they allowed him to resist seawater's usual effects on Devil Fruit users, or part of them at least?
Neither Gale nor Kiwanu had the faintest idea.
Gale's musings were cut short by the sound of wood scraping against the floor.
He looked up to see Kiwanu dragging a chair in front of him. The elderly scientist, with all the grace of a man who had done this far too many times before, climbed on top of it and stood there, grinning down at him in silence.
Gale immediately felt irritated.
"What?" he asked flatly, slicing off another piece of his apple. "You got more tests or something?"
Kiwanu shook his head. "I've done all the testing I can do for today. And even if I hadn't, rest is necessary for a scientist." He waggled a finger. "Without it, one cannot properly observe the results of their experiments with clarity."
Gale narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Then what's with that shit-eating smirk? I can tell you're plotting something..."
Kiwanu chuckled, his grin widening. "The tests may be over for today, but tomorrow, we'll move on to the fun stuff."
Gale frowned. "Fun for you or for me?"
Kiwanu shrugged. "It will undoubtedly be fun for me. As for you?" He paused for dramatic effect, then smirked. "That depends entirely on you."
Gale's suspicions deepened. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Kiwanu's expression turned almost giddy, his eyes alight with excitement. "Today, we studied the immediate effects a Paramecia Devil Fruit has on its user's body." He clapped his hands together. "Tomorrow, we'll begin studying the delayed effects… or perhaps, the not-so-apparent ones."
Gale's frown deepened.
Kiwanu cleared his throat and continued, "For example—how does a Devil Fruit affect the speed of its user's development? And—" His grin turned downright devious. "Perhaps, with enough data, we could even create an optimized method for mastering similar Devil Fruit powers in record time."
Gale stopped chewing.
Slowly, he swallowed his bite of apple.
Then, he placed both the knife and the fruit down on the table and exhaled through his nose.
"...You're gonna make me run laps, aren't you?"
Suddenly, Kiwanu stood on the chair "Would that be the worst thing in the world?"
Then, with all the dramatic flair of a stage performer, he pointed at Gale. "I'm offering to use the power of science and my brilliant mind to help you not only become stronger, but also master your Devil Fruit ability!"
Gale exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck.
This eccentric old man was already shaping up to be a massive pain in his ass. But as annoying as he was, Gale couldn't deny that Kiwanu was far smarter than his personality—or his tendency to stand on furniture—suggested. More importantly, he didn't strike Gale as some mustache-twirling, mad scientist type.
He glanced down at his hands. "I guess I should work hard and master this power since I have it…"
"…Though I have no idea what to do with it," he muttered.
Kiwanu's grin widened. "That's a mystery even I can't solve for you," he said, his tone oddly knowing. "You'll have to figure that out on your own."
With that, he hopped down from the chair and dusted himself off. "Either way, you should look forward to tomorrow. And for now—" He turned, already heading toward the back of his workshop. "—get some rest."
...
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