Vital Signs Monitor and Black Sheepwall

Adams strapped the strange device onto his wrist, then gave the command:

"Compare my current physical data with Specimen No. 13."

The instant the command was issued, a spark of red light suddenly lit up in the depths of the pitch-black mirror surface. A thin red beam, nearly imperceptible to the naked eye, silently shot out. Starting from his ankle, it swept across his entire body in an instant, passed over his broad chest, and finally vanished into his hair.

As the red light faded, the air above the watch face distorted slightly. A clear, stable holographic image instantly solidified and unfolded.

Two three-dimensional human models floated within the image.

The one on the left was a normally proportioned human figure.

The one on the right had an astonishingly sturdy skeleton and a pair of curved horns atop its head.

Beside the two models flowed dense streams of constantly refreshing data like waterfalls:

Muscle fiber strength, bone density, neural reaction speed, blood oxygen-carrying capacity...

Adams's gaze swiftly swept over several key figures flashing at the center of the image.

"Muscle cross-sectional area comparison... 40%."

"Muscle density comparison... 39%."

"Bone density comparison... 41%."

"So, based on this body alone, I'm probably worth around 28 million Beli?"

That was the conclusion he reached.

He had commissioned Vegapunk to make this watch. It functioned as a Vital Signs Monitor, allowing Adams to directly assess the level of his physical constitution.

So-called Specimen No. 13 referred to Kaido's physical data at age thirteen. The watch's built-in chip contained Kaido's physical data from ages thirteen to fifteen, as well as from twenty-one to thirty-seven.

As for why it did not include other powerhouses, the reason was simple. No one else had been locked in a laboratory and thoroughly studied by the World Government, so there was no way to gather the data.

At thirteen, Kaido had a bounty of seventy million Beli, while Adams's current key statistics were only around forty percent of his.

So he figured he was worth about twenty-eight million.

He gently shook his head. He was neither depressed nor discouraged, and there was not even a trace of the resentment common among youths when faced with such an enormous gap.

The difference was huge? Naturally.

He was only nine years old now. He was confident that by the time he turned thirteen, he definitely would not be weaker than Kaido had been at the same age.

The thought flashed through his mind like lightning. He no longer stared at the models that represented the gap between them, and his finger brushed the cold surface of the watch face again.

"Override command. Display a nautical chart of the Ejadi Island waters."

The deep-blue human figures abruptly shattered and reassembled. Amid dancing particles of light, a dynamic ocean map hovered above the watch.

Islands were scattered across it, each marked with a name. Ocean currents were indicated by winding blue bands of light, while dangerous reefs flashed with glaring red dots.

In this world, nautical charts and Log Poses were the two legs sailors relied on for survival. Without either one, they could not take a single step forward.

In the original story, Nami had drawn maps of the East Blue all by herself, and the finished product alone could fill a spacious room. To include the Four Blues, and even the mysterious New World, would likely require a Giants' room to hold it all.

That was why Adams had asked Vegapunk to upload the nautical charts collected by Ohara into this watch's built-in chip as well.

In the words of his previous life, this was what they called black sheepwall.

This was what he had gained after spending more than two months waiting for Vegapunk and finally establishing contact with him. Of course, there was another benefit too, but it was not yet time for it to come into play.

Adams's gaze sank into the shifting holographic sea chart as he considered his next destination.

Meanwhile, at the entrance to the base.

A dense crowd stood gathered in silence, filling the open space before the gate and stretching all the way to the bend in the street.

Men and women, young and old, all bore the same exhaustion and almost numb fear on their faces. They were the island's civilians. The three women Adams had released earlier had informed them of the Dagger Gang's destruction, and once they confirmed that the Blood Anchor Gang had been wiped out as well, they gathered here at once.

According to the island's bloody iron law, whoever defeated the old king naturally became the new king. The Dagger Gang and Blood Anchor Gang had risen to power by stepping over the corpses of their predecessors too.

Now, was it this man's turn? How would he rule? Would he be greedier and more brutal than those before him? Or... an unspoken fantasy silently passed through the murky air.

The civilians whispered among themselves, their voices kept extremely low. Some shoved one another, trying to push out a representative to step forward.

The murmurs merged into a suppressed buzz, yet they could never form a clear request. The invisible mire woven from hope and fear held their feet firmly in place.

What truly kept everyone from crossing the line was the presence stationed on both sides of the gate.

Those armed earthen soldiers.

The somewhat intelligent earthen soldiers exchanged glances at the sight. The soldier closest to the inside of the gate took heavy steps and entered the base.

Several minutes later, Adams walked out through the gate. His gaze swept over the crowd before him as he said calmly:

"What do you need?"

The crowd stirred uneasily, like water disturbed by a tossed stone.

After a moment of dead silence, an elderly man with white hair and beard, his face deeply furrowed like ravines, shuffled out under the silent shoving and urging gazes of those around him.

He hunched his back and struggled to raise his head. His cloudy eyes were filled with reverence and the determination of someone who had thrown caution to the wind.

"My lord... we want to know how you plan to rule this island in the future..."

The old man's voice was dry and hoarse, carrying the marks of erosion by sea winds. By the end, it had begun to tremble uncontrollably.

This was the only question everyone on the island had piled up in silence.

"I haven't considered that yet, but don't worry. I won't make you pay tribute."

Adams answered decisively.

He knew how barren this island was—so barren that even the news-delivering seagulls disliked it.

Exploit them? What he could squeeze out of them in a month probably would not even cover one meal for him.

Thinking of the two destroyed gangs and their greedy faces, unwilling to spare even dried fish or a few roots dug from the ground, a hint of icy disdain flashed through his eyes.

The old man's deeply lined face instantly froze. His cloudy eyes flew wide open, and an incredulous light burst from his pupils as his lips trembled.

"Th-... Is that true?"

Adams nodded, the motion crisp and decisive.

"Of course it is."

Before his words had even faded, waves of cheers rose one after another. For the first time, the islanders, long exploited and bullied, struggling on the edge of despair, felt the warm current called hope.

Amid that deafening sea of celebration, a figure forced his way through the crowd and staggered toward Adams.

He was a middle-aged man with a face full of beard, and his thick arms still carried the scent of wood shavings from wine barrels. He looked up at Adams, his face flushed red with excitement and his lips trembling.

"Th-thank you! My lord! Th-thank you for saving my daughter!"

He suddenly bent forward in an almost ninety-degree bow, his forehead nearly touching Adams's knees.

Adams shifted slightly aside, avoiding such an overly weighty gesture.

"It was just a small thing. You don't need to do this. I didn't really do anything."

To him, saving those women had merely been something he did in passing.

The bearded man straightened up, forcefully wiped his reddened eyes, and said eagerly:

"My lord! Please... please do me the honor! Later... come sit at my little tavern! Let me... let me properly offer you a drink to show my gratitude!"

"No need. I don't like drinking."

Adams gently shook his head and casually made up an excuse to refuse. It was not that he disliked alcohol; he simply did not want to become involved with the bearded man's daughter. He had standards when choosing women.

Seeing the man's face instantly darken, he changed the subject.

"However... since you run a tavern, you should be well informed, right?"

The bearded man froze for a moment, then nodded desperately as though he had grabbed hold of a lifeline. He patted his chest and promised:

"Of course! Wh-what do you want to ask about? As long as I know it, I'll tell you everything without leaving out a single word!"

To be continued