Buster Call (Part 2)

The scholars looked at one another, their faces torn between the instinct to survive and deep suspicion of this strange hole.

Jump down?

Was there hell below, or a way out?

As one, they turned their eyes to Dr. Clover.

The old doctor's gaze lingered for less than a second on Adams's young face, written with unquestionable resolve.

There was none of a child's panic in his eyes, only the determination of someone tempered by hardship.

He gritted his teeth fiercely. His hoarse throat erupted with startling force, crushing all hesitation and fear:

"Listen to him! Everyone! Grab the books! Jump!"

The command was like thunder, splitting apart the scholars' confusion. Their instinct to survive and their desire to protect knowledge instantly overwhelmed everything else.

They burst out with their last reserves of strength, like moths hurling themselves into flames, lunging desperately toward the books not yet consumed by fire.

They snatched up the nearest and most precious scrolls and tomes, clutched them tightly to their chests, and rushed without hesitation toward the enormous hole.

Splash! Splash! Countless heavy tomes and parchment scrolls were thrown down first, instantly swallowed by the darkness below.

Then came the scholars themselves.

One, two, three... They clutched the nearest books and leaped into the unfathomable darkness.

Olvia gritted her teeth as well, pressing a thick, bloodstained tome tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes and sprang forward.

Dr. Clover staggered at the edge of the hole. After giving Adams one last look, complex emotions flickered in his cloudy old eyes. Clutching the damaged volume in his arms, he vanished into the darkness.

Underground space.

Icy seawater filled the bottom of the vast underground chamber. Countless books that had just been thrown down bobbed beneath the surface, their ink quickly bleeding across the pages in the salty water.

Above the water, however, was another scene.

The scholars, along with the few tomes clutched in their arms, floated steadily in midair as if supported by invisible hands.

The sensation of weightlessness left them dizzy, their faces still marked by the terror of their leap and the dazed confusion of surviving disaster.

Adams stood like a rock atop a raised stone platform below.

His arms were slightly spread, a faint shimmer curling around his fingertips. An invisible force field covered the entire chamber, precisely holding up every person who had fallen.

"This is..."

"Since when did Ohara have a place like this?"

"Unbelievable."

The scholars could not stop murmuring.

Dr. Clover's gaze slowly swept over the books soaking in seawater, then checked each shocked face floating in the air one by one.

Once he confirmed that all the important tomes were present and every scholar was safe, overwhelming excitement and relief, almost tragic in their intensity, finally surged across his smoke-blackened old face.

He turned toward the silver-haired boy on the platform below, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "

Adams... this place... how long have you been preparing it?"

The moment he saw this space, quick-witted Dr. Clover thought of many things.

Adams raised his head. In the faint light filtering down from the ceiling, his eyes looked especially clear, and especially deep.

"I started preparing it not long after obtaining my Devil Fruit power. Doctor, the basement could not hide from Robin, and it could not hide from me either, since I can assimilate with the earth. I knew everything you were researching. I knew very well that it was a capital crime, and that one day, the World Government would come to settle the score.

"I also knew very well that it would be impossible to persuade you to abandon your research."

His gaze swept over the scholars in the air, clutching their books as the panic in their eyes gradually turned into resolute protectiveness.

"So I have been preparing for this day. When the reckoning came, I wanted to provide everyone with shelter. After all, everyone has shown me kindness."

Naturally, Adams could not say that he had prepared in advance because of memories from his previous life. He could only make up a lie that was barely believable.

Besides, he knew very well that he was a selfish person. He had his own motives for saving these scholars; it was not out of gratitude.

Dr. Clover's lips trembled violently. Cloudy tears finally welled from his eyes and slid down his deeply lined cheeks.

He drew in a sharp breath, as though he wanted to suck the cold underground air deep into his lungs. His voice choked with emotion, yet rang out loud and clear, filled with indescribable pride:

"Adams... you've grown up! I... I'm proud of you!"

"This is what I should do, Doctor."

Adams's voice remained steady, though a trace of perfectly timed warmth flickered deep in his eyes.

"These past three years, thank you for taking care of me."

At that moment, after hearing the other scholars' hushed, brief introductions, Olvia's complicated gaze fell upon Adams.

Within the invisible supporting force field, she carefully adjusted her direction and slowly floated toward the platform.

Olvia's voice carried the weakness of her severe injuries, yet it was exceptionally clear. Looking at Adams's far-too-young yet far-too-composed face, she said,

"Little one, thank you... for taking care of Robin these past three years. Sorry for the trouble."

She had just learned from the others how Robin had been treated on the island, and she understood exactly what pressures and criticism that care must have brought him.

Adams immediately understood what her apology meant. He turned slightly to face Olvia, his tone natural and sincere.

"It was nothing, Aunt Olvia. Robin is very cute and sensible. She has not caused me any trouble."

He paused, as though he felt that was not enough, then naturally added, "

"I like her very much."

The instant those words fell, Olvia's expression froze.

Her haggard face, previously filled with gratitude and exhaustion, was instantly replaced by an extremely strange expression.

Her eyes widened slightly. Like searchlights, they repeatedly swept over Adams's silver-haired face, youthful and heroic yet unusually cold.

It would have been perfectly normal if those words had come from an adult.

But, if she remembered correctly... this child was only one year older than her daughter, right? A nine-year-old boy saying that he liked an eight-year-old girl very much?

The scrutiny in her eyes, along with a certain indescribable realization, grew deeper and stranger, almost becoming tangible.

Adams clearly received the message contained in that look. His sharply lined cheek tightened almost imperceptibly, and an invisible flush seemed to flash across the tips of his ears in the dim light.

He immediately looked away and forcibly dragged the conversation back on track. His tone returned to its usual calm as he addressed Dr. Clover.

"Doctor, where do you plan to take everyone next?"

Dr. Clover was immersed in immense relief, but concern flashed through his eyes at the question. He looked around at the scholars floating in the air and shook his head.

"I haven't decided yet. The sea is vast, and the World Government's reach is everywhere... I don't know where would be safe."

"I have an idea."

Adams's voice interrupted the doctor's contemplation, drawing everyone's attention, including Olvia's still oddly appraising gaze.

"Islands on the sea are too risky. For safety, I believe Sky Island is the best choice."

Dr. Clover's brows jumped sharply, and a thoughtful light burst from his eyes. He immediately turned, sweeping his gaze over every scholar in the air.

"Everyone! What do you think of this proposal?"

After a brief silence, subdued discussion rose like stones cast into still water. Feasibility, routes, risks... all kinds of voices intertwined.

To scholars who studied history, Sky Island was no unfamiliar place. In fact, most Sky Island natives knew less about it than they did.

Olvia also temporarily withdrew the gaze that had made Adams feel as though needles were pricking his back and joined the quiet discussion. Her brows were tightly furrowed as she weighed the pros and cons of the plan.

At the same time, on the coast of Ohara.

The cold wind cut across the frozen sea like ice blades. A massive ice sculpture stood at the shore, Saul's bold posture forever sealed in frozen ice. His final expression seemed to still carry a trace of concern for the girl's future.

Kuzan's tall figure stood beside the ice sculpture. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the escape ship struggling through the drifting ice.

The tiny wooden boat jolted through gaps between the ice floes, slowly sailing toward the gray horizon.

TO BE CONTINUED