The chilling, metallic hallways of Building B wound through the facility like the frozen intestines of some steel beast. Walking at the head of the group, Merry was practically skipping, her boots tapping a rhythmic, cheerful beat against the grated floorboards.

Behind her walked Vivi, her long hair a vibrant, deep crimson thanks to the magical ring Ben had gifted her. Bringing up the rear were Dorry and Brogy.

High up in the shadows of the rusted rafters, two massive, heavily furred figures crouched in silence. They were the Yeti Cool Brothers—Scotch and Charly—the lethal assassins of the frozen wastes, sent by Monet under Caesar’s orders to eliminate any intruders.

Scotch raised a massive, customized rifle, aligning his sights directly with the skipping girl. He smirked behind his thick beard, loading a specialized chemical round designed to burst upon impact and release a dense cloud of concentrated anesthetic gas. One breath of it could knock out a Sea King in an instant.

Pfft!

The silent gas round hissed through the air, diving straight toward Merry’s head.

Instantly, before the bullet could even touch her hair, Merry’s eyes flashed with a bright, blue electronic light. A translucent, hexagonal dome of shimmering vibranium energy materialized around the entire group.

Clink!

The bullet struck the impenetrable barrier and shattered, releasing a massive, billowy cloud of thick, purple knockout gas. The gas rapidly expanded, completely enveloping the dome and obscuring the corridor in a dense, blinding fog.

Up in the rafters, Scotch and Charly let out low, rumbling chuckles.

"Direct hit," Charly muttered, leaping down from the steel beams with a heavy thud. "Stupid pirates. They didn’t even see it coming. Let’s go collect the bodies."

As the two massive yetis approached the thick purple fog, they expected to find four limp figures collapsed on the floor. Instead, they heard the soft, hummed tune of a cheerful melody.

With a sudden, sharp whistling sound, the purple gas began to spin. It didn’t expand outward; instead, it was drawn inward toward a central point as if caught in a localized vacuum.

The fog parted, revealing Vivi standing calmly with a wand in her hand. At the very tip of her wand, the entire volume of the lethal gas had been compressed into a perfectly swirling, dense purple sphere, held in place by a subtle, rotating current of air.

The Yeti Cool Brothers froze, their massive jaws dropping in utter disbelief.

"What... what did she just do?!" Scotch stammered, raising his rifle in a panic. "That gas should have put them under in a second!"

Dorry and Brogy stepped out from behind Vivi, their faces darkened with righteous fury. They didn’t care about the trickery; they cared about the cowardly ambush.

Brogy unslung his massive battleaxe, the weapon crafted from Uru metal gleaming with a faint, blue-white light. In his left hand, he gripped his vibranium shield, which hummed with a low, kinetic frequency. Dorry drew his heavy broadsword, the Uru blade crackling with static electricity as he stepped forward.

"Cowardly snipers!" Brogy roared, his voice echoing like thunder through the narrow corridor. "You dare attack the warriors of Elbaf from the shadows?!"

The Yeti Cool Brothers realized their stealth advantage was entirely gone. Fight was the only option.

"Don’t underestimate us!" Scotch growled, his massive body suddenly blurring as he executed the high-speed Marine movement technique. "Soru!"

"Dorry-san, Brogy-san," Vivi said, her staff spinning casually. "Do you need any assistance?"

"No!" Dorry bellowed, a fierce grin stretching across his face. "We are small right now, but our pride remains as massive as the mountains of Elbaf! Stay back, Princess!"

In a flash of white snow and blurred motion, Scotch and Charly launched themselves forward. Because of their specialized training and beast-like physiology, their speed was incredible. They zig-zagged off the metallic walls, utilizing Soru to create multiple illusions of their positions.

Brogy swung his massive axe, but the blade cleaved only empty air as Scotch zipped underneath the strike, his massive claws aiming for Brogy’s throat.

"Too slow!" Scotch sneered.

But Brogy didn’t panic. He merely raised his vibranium shield. Scotch’s claws slammed directly into the shield’s surface. Instead of shattering the defense, the impact was completely absorbed by the vibranium lattice. A split second later, the shield released a concussive pulse of stored energy, blasting Scotch backward.

Dorry, meanwhile, closed his eyes. His Observation Haki flared, mapping the rapid, high-speed shifts in Charly’s movement. He ignored the illusions, focusing entirely on the heavy, thumping heartbeat of the charging yeti.

There.

Dorry’s eyes snapped open. He lunged forward, executing a perfect, horizontal sweep with his heavy sword.

Charly, mid-stride in Soru, ran directly into the path of the swinging blade. He tried to halt, but his momentum carried him straight forward. The flat of Dorry’s electrified Uru blade slammed directly into Charly’s chest with the force of a falling meteor.

BOOM!

A massive discharge of blue lightning erupted upon impact, throwing Charly across the corridor and crashing him through two reinforced steel walls before he slumped onto the floor, completely unconscious, his fur smoking.

Scotch, recovering from the shield blast, stared in absolute horror at his fallen brother. "Charly!"

"You’re next!" Brogy laughed, leaping into the air.

He brought his Uru axe down in a devastating vertical strike. Scotch tried to dodge using Soru, but Brogy’s descent was too fast, the shockwave of the swing ripping up the steel floorboards before the blade even landed. The flat of the heavy axe struck Scotch square in the shoulder, driving him straight into the ground. The metal floor buckled, forming a deep, shattered crater. Scotch’s eyes rolled back, and he went completely limp.

"Hmph," Dorry grunted, sheathing his sword. "Fast, but fragile. They are nothing but glass cannons."

"A fine warm-up!" Brogy laughed, slinging his axe back onto his shoulder.

Vivi smiled, dispersing the compressed ball of gas with a flick of her staff, sending it safely up into a ventilation shaft. "Great job, both of you. Let’s keep moving before more of them show up."

---

On the opposite side of the island, near the heavily damaged G-5 Marine ship, the frozen wasteland was in chaos.

The Marines were desperately fighting for their lives. Out of the snowy ruins, a massive army of transformed, mutated prisoners had emerged. These were the men who had supposedly died in the chemical explosion four years ago, now wearing tattered hazmat suits and wielding crude weapons, their eyes vacant and wild under the influence of Caesar’s experiments.

"What is going on?!" Tashigi screamed, wielding her sword clumsily in Smoker’s massive body. "They’re supposed to be dead! Why are they attacking us?!"

"They’re mindless," Smoker growled back, adjusting to Tashigi’s smaller frame as he pinned a mutated prisoner to the ground. "Someone’s been keeping them as a private army! Don’t hold back, men! Subdue them!"

The sounds of clashing steel and gunfire echoed across the ice.

A short distance away, near the shore of the massive central lake, Sanji, Kashi, and the torso-less Kin’emon were sprinting through the snow. Kin’emon, still a bizarre, upside-down accordion of a man, was being carried under Sanji’s arm.

"My torso..." Kin’emon wept, his small legs flailing. "I can feel it! It is cold! It is wet! It has surely fallen into the depths of the frozen water!"

Sanji stopped at the edge of the lake, looking out over the dark, icy water. "A lake? Is there a deep lake nearby, samurai?"

"Yes!" Kin’emon shouted, pointing a flailing leg toward the western coordinates. "Just beyond those shattered laboratory ruins! I can feel the freezing current numbing my stomach!"

"Alright, let’s go," Sanji sighed, sprinting toward the coordinates with Kashi’s massive strides keeping pace easily beside him.

As they ran, Kin’emon looked up at the cook, his expression shifting from arrogance to genuine confusion. "Why... why are you helping me, pirate? I have treated you with nothing but disdain and suspicion. Yet you risk your life to retrieve my body."

Sanji’s expression softened, a brief, distant shadow passing over his eyes as he remembered his mother, Sora, and the painful, fractured memories of his own childhood.

"A parent searching desperately for their child..." Sanji muttered, his voice barely louder than the wind. "No matter how annoying or prideful you are, I can’t just stand by and watch that. Now shut up."

They reached the shoreline of the dark, freezing lake. Sanji didn’t hesitate. He tossed Kin’emon’s leg-head hybrid to Kashi, took a deep breath, and dove straight into the icy water.

Sanji kicked his legs, diving deep into the dark blue depths. His eyes scanned the muddy bottom until he spotted a pair of human arms and a torso thrashing clumsily under the water, tangled in some lake weeds.

Sanji swam down, his hand cutting through the weeds like a knife. He grabbed the torso by the collar and kicked hard, launching himself back toward the surface.

Splash!

Sanji erupted from the water, landing gracefully on the snowy shore, dragging the wet torso behind him.

The moment the torso hit the ground, Kin’emon’s head let out a triumphant roar. The torso slid across the snow, and with a series of wet, snapping sounds, the head, torso, and legs perfectly fused back together.

Kin’emon stood up, stretching his fully restored arms, a magnificent, traditional samurai armor suddenly appearing over his body thanks to his clothing-generating abilities. Tears of pure gratitude streamed down his face as he bowed deeply to Sanji.

"I am whole once more!" Kin’emon wept. "I am deeply, eternally in your debt, Master Cook!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sanji grunted, lighting a cigarette. "Now let’s go find your kid."

---

While the battle raged on Punk Hazard, a completely different scene was unfolding on a peaceful, sunlit island miles away.

Dozens of desperate parents were gathered in front of the local Marine base, weeping and clutching posters of their missing children. They were begging, pleading with the Marine Commodore, Yarisugi, who was standing on the steps with a cold, indifferent expression.

"Please, Commodore!" a mother sobbed. "Our children didn’t die in a shipwreck! We know they were taken! We saw the unmarked ship!"

"Silence!" Yarisugi barked, waving his hand dismissively. "The investigation is closed. Your children are dead. Accept the tragedy and go home. Do not disrupt the peace of this island."

"But Vice Admiral Vergo..." a father pleaded. "He promised he would look into it! He is a good man! He will help us!"

Yarisugi sneered. "Vice Admiral Vergo is currently on a classified, long-term mission. He is not here to listen to your delusions. Go home!"

But unknown to the crying parents and the corrupt Commodore, Vice Admiral Vergo was not on a standard Marine mission.

At that very moment, deep within the hidden, rocky cliffs on the frozen side of Punk Hazard, a sleek, unmarked submarine docked silently inside a secret, underwater cavern.

The hatch opened, and a tall, imposing man stepped out. He wore a pristine, quilted white coat, dark sunglasses, and had a piece of half-eaten hamburger meat stuck casually to his left cheek. His eyes were cold, calculating, and devoid of any humanity.

Vergo, the Vice Admiral of the G-5 Marine Division—and secretly, the highest-ranking elite officer of the Donquixote Family, "Joker’s" ultimate mole—had arrived on the island to personally clean up Caesar’s mess.

---

Meanwhile, Ben’s group had successfully navigated to the top floor of Building D, entering the luxurious, oversized office of Caesar Clown.

The room was filled with extravagant velvet couches, expensive wine racks, and a massive mahogany desk covered in highly classified documents.

Sunny’s eyes flashed with a bright, blue light as he stood in front of the desk. His built-in scanner swept across the documents, instantly capturing, translating, and storing every single piece of research data, chemical formula, and gigantification blueprint into his digital memory banks.

"Scanning complete, Papa!" Sunny cheered, turning back to the group. "I’ve got everything! All of Caesar’s dirty secrets are saved!"

"Super!" Franky grinned, casually pocketing a highly advanced gold-plated wrench from Caesar’s toolkit.

Near the corner of the room, Oimo was rummaging through a highly secured, steel safe that Ben had casually bypassed with a simple unlocking charm. As the giant reached inside, his hand brushed against something warm and rhythmic.

"Hey, Ben," Oimo called out, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. "What in the world is this?"

Oimo pulled his hand out, holding a living human heart.

The entire group gathered around, staring at the organ in fascination.

"My, my," Brook gasped, his jaw dropping. "A living heart, completely detached from its body! And it’s still beating! Though, of course, I don’t have a heart myself! Yohohoho!"

Ben stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the floating organ. Using his knowledge, he instantly recognized the precise, surgical clean-cut of the blood vessels.

"This is Trafalgar Law’s work," Ben murmured, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. "He must have traded this heart to Caesar as a guarantee of trust to stay on this island."

He reached out, taking the container from Oimo’s large hand. With a warp of reality, Ben placed the beating heart safely inside his personal spatial dimension, sealing it away where no one else could ever reach it.

"Well," Ben smiled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "This just became incredibly interesting. Let’s go. It’s time to reunite with the rest of our crew."