Three days later, inside the Tree of Knowledge.
"Take it, Robin."
Dr. Clover's voice was gentle yet solemn. In his palm, weathered by the marks of time, rested a small badge.
It bore intricate engravings of the Tree of Knowledge and the World Book—an emblem of a scholar's identity.
Robin's young eyes, long accustomed to gloom, now shone as brightly as stars in the badge's light.
Overwhelming joy broke through the dam of her usual timidity. Holding her breath, she almost reverently held out both hands and carefully accepted the badge that carried all her dreams and recognition.
"Congratulations, Robin!"
"That's wonderful, Robin!"
"Remarkable!"
The surrounding scholars gathered around her, their low, heartfelt congratulations like a warm tide that instantly submerged the tiny figure.
Every face bore a sincere smile, wrinkles easing and eyes shining brightly.
Robin clenched the badge tightly, as though she were holding onto all the light in the world.
Dr. Clover stepped aside, picked up a long wooden pointer leaning beside the massive armillary sphere, and lightly tapped a thick wooden board hung with a complex sea chart.
Tap, tap.
The crisp sound temporarily quieted all the congratulations.
"Listen carefully, Robin. You must remember how to become a good scholar."
"Knowledge is the past."
"This is the largest and most historic library in the world. Countless scholars from all over the world come here for the Tree of Knowledge. We study these books year after year—there is nothing in history that I do not understand!"
His impassioned words echoed beneath the dome. At last, he lowered his arm and walked back to Robin.
His aged yet warm hand, carrying the faint dusty scent of books, gently settled on Robin's soft black hair, heavy with expectation.
"Do you remember? Studying Archaeology is your greatest pride. From now on, you must contribute to the world through research in every field."
Robin raised her little face. The doctor's kindly features seemed incomparably tall in the candlelight. An unprecedented courage and longing surged to her throat, and the words she had chewed over again and again burst from her lips.
"Yes, I understand, Doctor! I want to study the Void Century!"
At Robin's answer, the kindness on Dr. Clover's face instantly froze, torn apart by immense shock.
It was as if the invisible tail of a Sea King had struck him viciously. He staggered backward several steps, his back slamming heavily into the edge of a cold bookshelf with a dull thud.
His clouded eyes went wide, bottomless terror filling his pupils as he stared fixedly at the child before him, ignorant of the enormity of her words.
"No, no, absolutely not! Just like before, no!"
He practically screamed it, his gaunt hand waving frantically through the air.
Robin was not frightened by his reaction. The stubborn light in her eyes only grew brighter.
"Huh? Why? Doctor... If we study those Poneglyphs, then... then won't we understand what really happened during the Void Century?"
Dr. Clover's voice turned sharp with the edge of collapse. He took a deep breath and began earnestly trying to persuade Robin, telling her how dangerous it was to study the Poneglyphs.
Every scholar's gaze seemed drawn by invisible ropes, locked firmly onto the pale Dr. Clover and the small figure who was both stubborn and confused.
While everyone's attention was captured, a tiny person no larger than a knuckle stood silently in the shadow cast by the base of the massive armillary sphere.
Deep beneath Ohara Island.
Cold. Deathly still. Absolute darkness pressed down on everything like thick ink.
This was a vast square underground space, hollow in its upper half and filled with seawater in its lower half.
Adams floated above the seawater with his eyes closed, his mind receiving the sounds and images transmitted in real time by the tiny person.
Unable to withstand the doctor's overwhelming fear and harsh lecture, Robin suddenly turned around. Her small figure, filled with immense grievance and helplessness, crashed through the startled scholars like a frightened fawn and stumbled out of the Tree of Knowledge's warm glow toward the shore shrouded in night.
The scene shifted within Adams's ice-blue pupils.
Through another Clay Doll placed beforehand in a crevice among the coastal reefs, he "saw":
Beneath the night sky, waves crashed against the reefs, giving off a monotonous, eternal moan. Little Robin ran to the shore, her suppressed sobs sounding especially fragile in the empty sea wind.
Then she stopped. A giant, drenched from head to toe and in a miserable state, lay collapsed in the icy seawater.
"Everything... is proceeding smoothly."
Adams's voice, sharp as ice shards, struck faint echoes through the sealed underground space, carrying the cold certainty of settled dust.
After parting with Dr. Clover, he had used his ability to come here.
For two years, apart from his daily training, he had spent all his time secretly creating this underground space. He had told no one about it.
He had considered several plans over and over for how to help the scholars safely survive the Buster Call.
Telling the scholars in advance and having them evacuate was simply impossible. Every one of them had already prepared to die before researching the historical texts. They could never be persuaded.
Ignoring the scholars' wishes and forcibly taking everyone away before the Buster Call began? That would not work either.
Adams even believed that option was the worst possible choice. It was highly likely to draw the personal intervention of God's Knights or even Imu.
The Five Elders had allowed Ohara to continue its research until now because they were fishing. They intended to gather all the rebels around Dr. Clover and wipe them out in one stroke.
Their means of teleporting across immense distances was not something Adams could deal with yet.
After thinking it over, the only chance of survival was to wait and watch, allowing the Buster Call to happen.
After Cipher Pol withdrew according to the original plot, and after the fires caused by the Navy's bombardment engulfed all of Ohara, transferring the scholars into this underground space would be the best strategy.
As for the island's civilians...
Within Adams's pupils, cold scenes flashed one after another.
Small stones whistled through the air and struck young Robin, leaving bruises on her body, while children shrieked with laughter. "Monster! Get lost!"
A woman disgustedly yanked her child away, as if Robin carried a plague.
The grocery store owner tossed her change onto the ground from afar and spat.
Then there was Adams himself, dragging his abnormally tall body through narrow streets, those gazes falling upon his back—mixed with fear, contempt, and undisguised rejection, like countless tiny poisoned needles...
Adams was not generous enough to save those people. If he had not known they would die by Sakazuki's hand, he would have wanted to do it himself.
Ignorance? Rejection of those who were different? Adams understood. That was the most primitive shade of human nature, like beasts dividing territory. He could tolerate ignorance.
But when ignorance refused to be illuminated by knowledge, when malice stubbornly grew even in soil cultivated by education, when these maggots turned their vileness and fear into stones and spit thrown at the innocent...
Then their only value was to become ashes raised by Sakazuki's bombardment, proving "Absolute Justice"! That would be the ending they deserved.
A cold fury, like dormant subterranean fire, briefly churned deep within Adams's chest. He forcibly suppressed it, took a deep breath, and let his consciousness spread like invisible roots.
The Clay Dolls scattered across several crucial "plot points" in Ohara became extensions of his senses.
The docks, the paths outside the Tree of Knowledge, the coastal lookout points... these tiny, silent sentries faithfully transmitted everything they "saw" back underground.
Time crawled slowly through the absolute darkness and silence, measured by heartbeats and the sighs of stone.
TO BE CONTINUED