Punk Hazard, Medical Department.
High-altitude sunlight filtered through the blinds, cutting alternating strips of light and shadow across the floor. Everything was quiet except for the soft beeping of the monitors.
Kalifa sat propped up in bed, her blond hair scattered across the snow-white pillow, its ends still slightly disheveled. She was as pale as an overworked wage slave on the verge of dropping dead, and the fingertips resting on her sheets had a faint bluish tint.
Hundreds of Air Doors linked together into a direct passage spanning thousands of kilometers had pushed her far beyond her current limits.
Lucas pulled over the chair beside her bed and sat down.
"Well done, Kalifa. You practically saved half the world this time."
Even though he had infused her with life energy along the way to keep her strength from giving out, the backlash from pushing her Devil Fruit ability beyond its limits had still eaten away a considerable portion of her lifespan.
He had already quietly restored what she had lost, but there was nothing he could do about her utter mental exhaustion.
Kalifa shook her head gently, her gaze drifting toward the room next door.
"No, it was thanks to Mr. Issho. Without his Gravity Field holding everything up, we couldn't have dismantled those islands."
Lucas nodded, leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss to her smooth forehead.
"I'll go check on him. We'll talk about us later."
He rose and shut the door behind him. It closed softly, sealing in the room's stillness.
The room next door.
The moment Lucas pushed open the door, his brows drew together slightly. The man lying in the bed had dry, graying hair, cheeks covered in wrinkles, and deeply sunken eyes. He looked to be in his sixties or seventies.
Normally, Issho could