OP: AMP Ch. 195

Inside the fortress' IQ cultivation chamber, Indigo stood watching a sheep munching on an IQ plant like it was regular grass. He was deep in thought.

IQ plants were the primary ingredient for creating his beasts. To put it simply, they were as essential to the mutation process as water was to human life itself. The human body was about seventy percent water. The beasts had similar water content, maybe even higher. But that remaining twenty to thirty percent of their biology had undergone radical mutations caused by exposure to IQ plants. Those mutations were essentially random, like flipping a coin. Fifty percent chance of beneficial changes, fifty percent chance of harmful ones. The odds of getting something perfectly balanced were so slim they could be ignored. But there was always some effect. Always some change.

Whether you injected the serum into an ant or a Sea King, the IQ plant would cause unstable mutations in the target's genetic structure. In layman's terms, the factor extracted from IQ plants broke down the strong bonds in a creature's genetic code. Then, through carefully controlled ratios and artificial intervention, you could guide that broken biology toward specific evolutionary outcomes.

More professionally, it was genetic modification.

If Marcus had been present, he probably would've called it something like a "gene-lock release agent" or some other gaming term.

In the world of One Piece, it didn't matter what species you were dealing with. Humans, fish, birds, mammals... any living creature could be altered by IQ serum. If Shiki hadn't explicitly forbidden him from experimenting on humans, Indigo would've extended his "glorious evolution" program to people long ago. Not that he'd never tried, of course. Those individuals on the island with feathers growing from their arms? Those were humans who'd been modified with IQ serum. They'd originally been Skypieans with wings on their backs, but now those wings had fused into their arms instead.

"This doesn't make any sense."

Indigo scratched his chin, tilting his head as he studied the sheep standing placidly in front of him.

Why wasn't he using a cow for this experiment?

Simple answer: he'd killed all the cows already.

How had they died?

He wasn't entirely certain about the mechanism. He only knew that after injecting a specially formulated IQ serum into the first cow, nothing seemed wrong at first. The animal had stood there looking perfectly healthy for about five seconds. Then its entire body had started glowing red. Initially, he'd been excited. He'd thought he'd finally succeeded in stabilizing the mutation process.

After all, when he'd first injected standard IQ serum into the cow, the animal had died instantly, poof, vanishing in a puff of smoke and leaving behind a perfectly cooked steak. He'd stood there staring at that steak for a long time, wondering if the IQ serum had worked as intended. Maybe the intended result was for creatures to contract and transform into edible meat products?

But after the second cow died the exact same way, he'd realized the truth. This was just an inevitable consequence of Marcus' influence on these creatures. Whatever made them special entities also made them drop items when they died, completely independent of anything he did to them.

It was fascinating from a scientific standpoint, but mostly just frustrating. Why did they keep dying?

He'd adjusted his formulas countless times after that, trying to find the right balance. But all the usable cow specimens were already gone by that point.

Which brought him to his most recent attempt. He'd watched another red glow pulse through an MC cow's body a few times, and then, poof, smoke and another steak.

So now he was working with sheep instead. Not because the fortress had run out of cows, but because he'd developed a theory that cows simply wouldn't work with his methods. After all, not every species could survive exposure to IQ serum. Birds, for example, had a mortality rate exceeding ninety percent after injection. But the ten percent that survived gained incredibly powerful abilities.

His lab currently housed one such specimen, an evolved bird that could discharge electricity on command. It was an impressive achievement under normal circumstances.

But after meeting Marcus, he had completely lost interest in that electric bird. Sure, birds laid eggs and had much shorter growth cycles compared to land-based beasts. That should've made them valuable for experimental purposes. But compared to creatures that Marcus could spawn literally anywhere at any time? The bird was worthless.

However, now Indigo found himself stumped by a new problem.

"Why isn't there any effect at all?"

If he had to describe it in simple terms: the cows were like fragile glass sculptures. No matter how gentle his injection technique or how diluted his serum formula, they shattered at the slightest touch.

But sheep? Good god, they were tough as nails.

It didn't matter how much serum he pumped into them, they absorbed everything without issue. They were like oceans swallowing rivers, infinite capacity with zero consequences.

At first, he had thought he'd finally found the right direction for his research. Seeing that the sheep showed no adverse reactions, he'd steadily increased the dosage over multiple experiments.

Eventually, he'd even injected the most extreme, aggressive variant of his IQ modification serum directly into a sheep's bloodstream. The kind of serum that should've caused catastrophic mutations in any normal creature.

The result? Nothing happened.

Well, strictly speaking, something had happened. But the outcome was nowhere near what he'd expected. Standing before him now was a sheep covered in gradient rainbow colors that shifted and flowed across its wool like an aurora.

That was it. Just pretty colors.

He could shear the wool, and it would still maintain those brilliant, shifting hues even after being removed from the animal's body.

He was certain he'd altered the sheep's physiological structure, absolutely certain. The serum had done something at a biological level. But why was the only visible result a color-changing wool coat?

You could argue he'd succeeded. That would be technically correct. But you could just as easily argue he'd failed. Also technically correct. After all, this creature didn't look powerful in the slightest. Though admittedly, if you wove its wool into clothing, you'd definitely be the flashiest person in any nightclub.

"Could the concentration still be insufficient?"

He pondered this possibility, pulling out his worn laboratory notebook.

IQ plants didn't normally require concentration. Even the raw extract was already far too potent for most applications, so potent it usually needed dilution and supplementary reagents just to prevent immediate death in test subjects. He'd never even considered concentrating it before. What kind of idiot would deliberately make the deadliest substance on the planet even more lethal? That was just asking for faster mortality rates.

But maybe that was exactly what these creatures needed. Maybe their strange physiology required something beyond the normal limits.

He opened his notebook and began writing.

"Experiment No. 59: Sheep's body shows no structural abnormalities. Wool exhibits gradient rainbow coloration with continuous color shifting."

The pages above were covered in similar entries, each one documenting another failed attempt at significant mutation.

"Experiment No. 58: Sheep's body shows no structural abnormalities. Wool changed to solid pink coloration."

"Experiment No. 57: Sheep's body shows no structural abnormalities. Wool changed to bright orange..."

He snapped the notebook shut and got to work.

His assistant stood nearby, ready to help with whatever insane procedure Indigo dreamed up next. The man had learned long ago that survival in this job meant keeping your mouth shut and your observations to yourself. Although Indigo had never attempted to concentrate IQ serum before, that didn't stop him from having ideas about how to do it.

Before long, he'd produced a small vial of concentrated IQ serum. The liquid glowed faintly in the laboratory light, looking far more sinister than the standard formula.

Next came the auxiliary reagents, the compounds used in conjunction with IQ serum to guide mutations in specific directions. These had already been concentrated once before. Concentrating them further would require equipment more advanced than what they currently had access to. But he had never let little things like technological limitations stop him before.

"At this concentration... it's roughly fourfold strength. Based on the standard ratios... that's way too much. This would destroy..." He paused mid-sentence. "Destroy what, exactly? With this concentration, even a Sea King would suffer violent mutation and death within seconds."

He shoved aside his own common sense and years of scientific training. Normal rules clearly didn't apply to these creatures. He couldn't even reach the threshold needed to cause visible changes in the sheep using conventional methods. He needed something stronger. Something that would force a reaction.

Looking at the multiple vials of concentrated directed-evolution reagents on his workbench, he made a decision that any sane scientist would've called criminally reckless. He started pouring them all together. But of course, before he did that, everything had to be properly documented.

Fortunately, his silent assistant was recording every step of the process, taking detailed notes that Indigo himself would never bother writing. Many great inventions originated from small accidents and bold innovation. Indigo had learned long ago that pure intuition sometimes produced better results than careful planning.

"A bit of this compound... yes... now add that catalytic agent. No, no, that stabilizer too... hehe. With all these mixed together, even a strong Sea King with high toxin resistance wouldn't survive."

The assistant swallowed hard, his pen trembling slightly as he recorded the formula. "Wouldn't survive" was a massive understatement. He believed that a single drop of this concoction touching his bare skin would kill him instantly. This wasn't an evolution serum anymore. This was a weapon of mass destruction disguised as medicine.

But what could he do? Speak up and advise caution? Impossible. He was merely a quiet assistant, and the only reason he still had this job was because he stayed silent. Those who'd tried to show off their "wisdom and foresight" by questioning Indigo's methods had long since been reassigned to feeding the beasts.

Indigo stared at the pale pink serum in his hands.

"It even looks delicious, like strawberry milk. Want to try some?" He turned to glance at his assistant with a manic grin.

The assistant frantically shook his head and stepped aside, exposing the sheep that had been standing patiently behind him.

"Good call. It would be a waste on you anyway."

Indigo walked over to the sheep and inserted the needle into its wool-covered hide. The pale pink serum began flowing into the animal's bloodstream, drop by drop, as he slowly depressed the plunger. When the very last drop entered the sheep's body, something finally happened. But this time, the wool didn't slowly change colors like in previous experiments. Instead, the entire sheep began flickering irregularly, its body phases in and out of reality like corrupted code producing system-wide errors, as if the creature itself was glitching.