One Piece: The Template System-Chapter 134: On The Seas - 2

The Grand Line was famously unpredictable, a treacherous ocean where summer could turn to a blizzard in the span of an hour, and where the sky could rain lightning without a single cloud in sight. But today, the weather had decided to grant the Thousand Sunny a rare, uninterrupted afternoon of absolute, picturesque perfection.

The sun hung high in a brilliant azure sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the immaculate, grassy main deck of the floating fortress. A gentle, salty sea breeze rustled the leaves of the newly expanded hydroponic garden and caused the ship’s massive sails to flutter with a soft, rhythmic snapping sound.

Nico Robin sat at the edge of the vibrant green lawn, lounging comfortably in a plush, wide-brimmed deck chair beneath the shade of a large, striped parasol. On the small wooden table beside her sat a tall glass of freshly squeezed tropical juice, condensation beading on the outside of the glass, alongside a silver platter adorned with an assortment of delicate, savory snacks Sanji had prepared earlier that morning.

In her hands was a heavy, leather-bound tome she had retrieved from the ship’s magnificent Grand Library. The book, titled Fundamental Runic Matrices and the Divine Script of the Age of Gods, was one of the many ancient, impossibly complex texts Ben had materialized using his templates. To anyone else on the crew, the pages looked like a chaotic jumble of glowing geometric shapes and dead languages. To Robin, however, it was an absolute treasure trove of intellectual stimulation.

She turned a crisp, yellowed page with a slender finger, her striking blue eyes scanning the intricate diagrams of spell circles. A serene, contented smile graced her lips. This level of peace was something she was still adjusting to, but she found herself entirely completely enamored with it.

Her quiet study session, however, was accompanied by a soundtrack of chaotic, high-decibel splashing and boisterous laughter echoing from the center of the deck.

The massive Adam wood panels covering the center of the ship had been retracted, revealing the Thousand Sunny’s crown jewel: the magically expanded, freshwater swimming pool that resembled a small, pristine lake.

The water was churning with activity.

"Take this! Ultimate Water Gun Attack!" a cheerful, boyish voice echoed across the deck.

A massive wave of water splashed into the air. The source of the splash was a ten-year-old boy with bright, sunny blonde hair, wearing a pair of red swim trunks and an oversized pair of swimming goggles and an air tube around his waist. This was Sunny.

Following the overwhelming success of Mini Merry’s transformation, Ben had utilized the exact same process in the virtual laboratory, cloning a second artificial Hito Hito no Mi (Human-Human Fruit). He had fed it to the ship’s secondary AI terminal. The result was a vibrant, endlessly energetic little boy who viewed Mini Merry as his revered older sister and Ben as his creator.

"You missed, little bro!" Mini Merry laughed, paddling swiftly out of the way of Sunny’s splash. She was wearing a cute, one-piece yellow swimsuit with air tube around her waist, her wet hair plastered to her forehead. "Your trajectory calculation is weak sauce! Prepare for the counter-attack!"

Merry slapped the water with both hands, sending a tidal wave back toward Sunny, engulfing him completely.

"Papa! Sister Merry is using area-of-effect attacks! Unfair!" Sunny coughed, laughing as he wiped his eyes.

"All is fair in love and water warfare, Sunny," Ben chuckled smoothly.

Ben was swimming lazily in the deeper end of the expanded pool, his powerful, heavily scarred shoulders cutting through the crystal-clear water with the effortless grace of his Aquaman template. He was wearing a pair of dark swim trunks, enjoying the cool relief of the water.

Not everyone in the pool was moving with such grace, however.

"Usopp! Help! A shark is biting my toe!"

"There are no sharks in the freshwater lake, Chopper! It’s just a shadow!"

On the shallower side of the pool, Luffy and Chopper were bobbing on the surface, with air tubes. Chopper was strapped into a bright pink floatie shaped like a donut, his little hooves kicking uselessly at the water while he clung to the plastic for dear life.

Luffy, meanwhile, was firmly wedged into the center of a ridiculously large, custom-made floatie shaped exactly like a giant, roasted piece of meat. He couldn’t stretch, and he could barely move his arms, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"I’m King of the Meat Boat!" Luffy cheered, kicking his legs to spin himself in a slow, awkward circle. "Usopp! Push me toward Ben! I want to splash him!"

"I am not getting close to the Magician while he’s swimming!" Usopp yelled back. The sniper was treading water nearby, fully equipped with a snorkel, flippers, and a high-powered water gun he had engineered in the workshop. "He’ll probably use a spell to turn the water into jelly! I’m providing long-range sniper support from the shallows!"

Usopp aimed his water gun at Merry. "Take this! The wrath of God Usopp!"

He pulled the trigger, hitting Merry squarely on her face.

"Oh, it is on, Uncle Usopp!" Merry shrieked playfully. "Sunny! Flank him! Papa, provide artillery!"

"Executing pincer movement!" Sunny yelled.

Ben laughed, sinking slightly into the water. With a subtle flex of his hydrokinetic abilities, he didn’t just splash; he manipulated a solid, condensed orb of water and launched it directly at Usopp’s face with the precision of a homing missile.

SPLOOSH.

"GYAAAH! HE USED MAGIC! TACTICAL RETREAT!" Usopp flailed, furiously dog-paddling away from the relentless assault of the two ship-children and their creator.

Robin watched the chaotic scene from her chair, her eyes crinkling in pure amusement. She took a sip of her juice, letting the sweet, tangy liquid cool her throat. It was incredibly endearing to watch the crew who had orchestrated the downfall of Enies Lobby acting like an overgrown childrens in a swimming pool.

After another twenty minutes of intense aquatic warfare, Ben finally declared a truce.

"Alright, kids, cease fire," Ben called out, running a hand through his wet, silver-white hair to push it out of his eyes. "I’m tapping out. I need a break."

"Victory for the Ship Alliance!" Sunny cheered, high-fiving Merry.

Ben swam to the edge of the pool nearest to Robin’s setup. He hoisted himself out of the water with a single, smooth pull of his arms, his bare feet touching the warm, grassy deck. Water dripped from his broad chest, catching the sunlight.

He didn’t bother reaching for a towel. He simply snapped his fingers.

"Siccatum."

A warm, invisible wave of magical air swept over his body. In a fraction of a second, the clinging water evaporated completely, leaving his skin, his hair, and his swim trunks perfectly, comfortably dry.

Robin lowered her book slightly, observing the casual display of magic. "Convenient."

"The height of luxury," Ben agreed with a smirk.

He didn’t walk toward the cabins to change. Instead, he closed his eyes for a brief moment, visualizing the specific, highly complex spatial storage matrix he had constructed within his own personal dimension—a technique he had mastered after acquiring the Age of Gods magic from the Medea template.

He reached his right hand out into the empty air. The space around his fingers rippled and distorted, like a stone dropping into a calm pond. His hand disappeared into the invisible tear in reality. When he pulled it back a second later, he was holding a crisp, short-sleeved shirt patterned with vibrant, dark blue and gold floral designs.

Ben slipped the shirt on, leaving it entirely unbuttoned in the warm sea breeze, the casual attire contrasting sharply with his usual tailored suits.

He walked over to Robin’s setup and nonchalantly dropped into the empty deck chair positioned directly across the small table from her. Without asking for permission, he reached over, plucked a small, savory cheese-stuffed cracker from her silver platter, and popped it into his mouth.

"Excellent vintage," Ben noted, chewing thoughtfully. "Sanji really outdid himself with the gouda."

"You are welcome to my snacks, Magician-san," Robin chuckled softly, unbothered by his thievery. She closed the heavy leather tome, keeping her index finger resting between the pages to mark her place. She looked at the intricate, glowing diagrams etched onto the cover of the book.

"Ben," Robin began, her tone shifting from relaxed banter to genuine, intellectual curiosity. She tapped the cover of the book. "I have been reading through these fundamental matrices. The geometric precision required to construct a functioning spell circle is staggering. The way the runes manipulate ambient energy to alter reality... it is fascinating."

Ben explains. "You’re using divine script to tell the universe what to do. The runes are just the language of the Age of Gods."

Robin leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "Which brings me to my question. Watching you cast a drying spell, or pull a shirt from a pocket dimension... it makes me wonder. Is this power exclusive to you? Can the rest of us learn to use magic as you do?"

Ben paused, a cracker halfway to his mouth. He looked at Robin, considering the depth of her question. He lowered his hand and let out a soft, thoughtful sigh.

"Right now? No," Ben answered honestly. "You cannot."

Robin raised an elegant eyebrow. "Is it a matter of intelligence? Or lack of the proper incantations?"

"Neither," Ben said, leaning back in his chair. "It’s a matter of biology. To perform the kind of magic I do a person requires something called ’Magic Circuits’."

"Magic Circuits?" Robin repeated the unfamiliar term.

"Think of them as a secondary, spiritual nervous system," Ben explained, gesturing to his own arm. "Normal humans have veins for blood and nerves for electricity. Mages have Magic Circuits to generate, channel, and process magical energy, which we call Od or Mana. Without those circuits, you can read all the runic books in the library, memorize every incantation perfectly, and wave a wand until your arm falls off, but absolutely nothing will happen. The universe won’t hear you because you don’t have the hardware to broadcast the signal."

"I see," Robin mused, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "So it is a genetic impossibility."

"I didn’t say that," Ben smirked, a mischievous glint returning to his golden eyes. "I said you can’t do it right now."

Robin’s eyes widened slightly. "You can grant someone Magic Circuits?"

"I am currently trying to conceptualize a serum or an alchemical procedure to artificially graft a circuit network onto a baseline human soul," Ben revealed, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "It’s incredibly delicate work. If I miscalculate the etheric alignment, the recipient could spontaneously combust. But if I crack the code... I could theoretically grant the ability to perform sorcery to anyone on this ship."

"That would revolutionize our combat capabilities entirely," Robin noted, her tactical mind instantly processing the implications. "A crew of magic users."

"Yes, but..." Ben laughed suddenly, shaking his head. "To be completely honest, Robin, even if I successfully invent the procedure, I don’t think half this crew would actually use it even if they had the circuits."

"Why not?"

"Because magic requires intense study, immense focus, and respect for literature," Ben pointed out. He visibly shuddered, gesturing toward the pool where Luffy was currently trying to bite his meat air tube. "Imagine giving magic to our Captain. If I gave Luffy fire magic, he would try to cook a raw fish inside his own mouth and end up blowing his own head off."

Robin pictured it, a small smile playing on her lips. "Accurate. And the others?"

"Catastrophic," Ben sighed, ticking them off on his fingers. "If Zoro tried to use teleportation magic, his atrocious sense of direction would cross-wire the spell, and he’d accidentally Apparate himself into another universe. And if I gave Sanji clairvoyance or X-ray vision... well, I’d have to kill him myself to protect the global security of women’s bathhouses everywhere."

Robin chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that brightened the deck. "A very accurate assessment. It would be a global security risk."

"The Giant Warriors are bound by the honor of Elbaf," Ben continued analyzing the crew. "They believe in raw physical strength and warrior culture. To them, standing back and casting a spell would be considered dishonorable cowardice. They want to feel the impact of the axe."

"And Franky?" Robin asked. "He is an engineer. He possesses the intellect."

"Franky has the brains, yes," Ben agreed. "He might actually try it just to see how it works. But his true, undying love is for steel, gears, and cola. If I gave him magic, he wouldn’t use it to cast spells; he would try to magically carbonate his lasers. His heart belongs to machines, not mysticism."

Ben looked across the table at Robin, his expression softening into one of genuine admiration.

"The truth is," Ben said, his voice warm, "the only people on this crew who I believe would genuinely take the time to learn, respect, and effectively utilize magic in combat are a very select few."

He ticked them off on his fingers. "Nami, because she already treats weather manipulation like a science and would leap at the chance to control the elements without a tool. Usopp, because his entire fighting style is based on versatility, tricks, and staying out of close-quarters combat. Vivi, because she understands the value of strategy and would use barrier magic flawlessly to protect her people."

Ben glanced toward the upper deck, where Chopper was currently tending to his medicinal herbs. "And Chopper, provided he wasn’t completely fixated on his medical research. Lately, he’s been utterly obsessed with cross-breeding the magical Mandrakes and other magical plants I integrated into the garden."

Finally, Ben’s golden eyes settled squarely on Robin.

"And you, my lovely archaeologist," Ben said smoothly. "Because of your boundless love for books, your meticulous attention to detail, and your insatiable thirst for ancient knowledge. If I ever perfect the circuit graft, you will be the first one I offer it to. You would make a terrifyingly brilliant witch."

A delicate blush dusted Robin’s cheeks at the high praise. She looked down at the runic tome in her lap, feeling a spark of genuine excitement at the prospect of one day putting the theories into practice.

"I would be honored to be your first student, Magician-san," Robin smiled, regaining her composure.

She opened the book again, sliding it toward the center of the table. "Since I have the master here, perhaps you could clarify a few concepts for me? The translation I managed for the third matrix seems contradictory. It suggests that applying a foundational ’Uruz’ rune to a spatial pocket increases the gravity, but the diagram implies a nullification effect."

"Ah, the classic Uruz paradox," Ben grinned, leaning forward enthusiastically, fully prepared to nerd out over magical theory. "You’re reading the diagram correctly, but you have to account for the etheric density of the surrounding environment. Uruz doesn’t increase gravity; it increases physical hardiness. When applied to space, it makes the ’walls’ of the pocket dimension rigid, which creates the illusion of increased gravity because the ambient mana cannot flow freely..."

For the next forty-five minutes, the two of them engaged in a deep, highly meticulous, and incredibly technical discussion on the finer points of Age of Gods runecraft. Robin asked pointed, brilliant questions, and Ben answered them with the thorough, exhaustive detail of a seasoned professor. It was a rare, quiet meeting of the minds that both of them thoroughly enjoyed.

Meanwhile, the sun began to reach its zenith, casting shorter shadows across the deck. The sounds of splashing from the pool gradually began to die down as exhaustion and the most powerful force in the universe—hunger—began to take hold of the crew.

"I’m starving!" Luffy’s voice whined loudly. "Sanji! Is it lunchtime?!"

"Hold your horses, you rubber glutton!" Sanji’s voice boomed from the open windows of the massive dining hall. "Give me five minutes to plate the appetizers!"

One by one, the crew began to haul themselves out of the pool. Usopp dragged a completely exhausted Chopper (still in his floatie) onto the grass. Sunny and Merry hopped out, shaking the water from their hair like wet puppies.

Ben noticed the mass exodus. He checked his pocket watch.

"It seems the dinner bell is about to ring," Ben noted, closing the heavy runic tome and setting it neatly aside.

He stood up from his chair. But instead of simply walking toward the dining hall, Ben decided to lean fully into his flair for the dramatic.

He stepped around the small table, coming to a halt directly in front of Robin’s deck chair. He placed his left hand smartly behind his back and extended his right hand toward her, bowing slightly at the waist in a flawless, theatrical display of old-world chivalry.

"Would you do this humble mortal the supreme honor of joining him for lunch, Ms. Archaeologist?" Ben asked, his voice dripping with playful, exaggerated reverence.

Robin blinked, surprised by the sudden performance. But looking at Ben’s unbuttoned floral shirt, and the utterly charming, roguish smirk on his face, she couldn’t help herself.

She let out a melodic, genuine chuckle.

"Of course, Magician-san," Robin replied smoothly, playing right along with the bit.

She gracefully placed her pale, elegant hand into his outstretched palm. Ben’s grip was warm and firm. He gently helped her rise from the low deck chair, ensuring she didn’t lose her balance. Instead of letting go once she was standing, Ben kept her hand securely enveloped in his, offering his arm for her to loop hers through.

Robin smiled, linking her arm with his, and allowed him to escort her across the grassy deck toward the heavy mahogany doors of the dining hall.

The dining hall of the Thousand Sunny was a masterpiece of spatial expansion. It was large enough to seat a banquet, featuring a massive, polished oak table, crystal chandeliers that hovered magically near the ceiling, and a breathtaking, floor-to-ceiling glass wall that showcased the ship’s internal, magically-sustained aquarium.

As Ben and Robin casually strolled through the double doors, arm in arm, the room was already filled with the mouth-watering aroma of garlic butter, searing steak, and fresh herbs.

The dining hall was far from empty. Ace was already seated at the massive oak table, aggressively inhaling a towering plate of ribs at supersonic speed. At the far end of the room, the human-sized Giants—Dory, Brogy, Oimo, and Kashii—were heartily laughing and slamming down giant tankards of ale, completely unfazed by the sudden arrival of the pair.

At the prep station, standing behind the gleaming stainless-steel counter of his open-concept kitchen, was Sanji.

The cook was in the middle of a delicate culinary maneuver, using a pair of long tongs to perfectly flip a paper-thin crepe in a hot skillet.

He glanced up to see who had entered the room.

His visible eye locked onto Ben. Then, his gaze tracked downward, zooming in with terrifying precision on the fact that Ben’s arm was intimately linked with Nico Robin’s, and their hands were resting together comfortably.

Sanji froze. The tongs in his hand stopped moving.

The temperature in the dining hall spiked instantly.

For a fraction of a second, absolute silence reigned. Then, a low, rumbling vibration began to emanate from the cook’s general vicinity.

Suddenly, a massive, blazing pillar of pure, unadulterated, fiery golden aura erupted around Sanji’s body. It shot straight up, scorching the ceiling tiles.

It was pure anime logic made manifest. Sanji had metaphorically (and almost literally) gone Super Saiyan out of sheer, catastrophic jealousy.

"YOU..." Sanji’s voice was a demonic, multi-layered growl that sounded like it was echoing from the depths of the underworld. "YOU BASTARD MAGICIAN..."

Despite the apocalyptic rage consuming his soul, Sanji’s hands remained perfectly steady. His culinary discipline was so absolute that, even while emitting an aura of pure hatred, he delicately flipped the crepe one more time, ensuring it didn’t burn, before sliding it flawlessly onto a pristine porcelain plate.

Sanji didn’t leave his workstation—the food was paramount—but he turned his head, glaring at Ben with such intense, concentrated venom that literal, visible red laser beams seemed to shoot from his eyes, burning scorch marks into the wooden floorboards just inches from Ben’s shoes.

"Unhand Robin-chwan this instant," Sanji hissed, his teeth grinding together so hard they sparked. "Or I will serve you as the main course."

Ben, entirely unfazed by the localized natural disaster occurring in the kitchen, simply paused. He looked at the raging cook, then looked down at his arm linked with Robin’s.

Ben slowly, deliberately, looked back up at Sanji. And he smirked. It was a slow, agonizingly smug, utterly victorious smirk designed specifically to push the cook over the edge.

SNAP. CRACKLE.

Sanji’s golden aura instantly spiked violently. Blue arcs of electricity began to violently crackle and discharge around his body, zapping the stainless steel counters. The sheer force of his jealousy had pushed him past the physical limits of a normal human. He had achieved Super Saiyan 2.

"I’M GOING TO KICK YOU INTO THE SUN!" Sanji roared, his hair whipping wildly in the self-generated windstorm of his own making. "I’M GOING TO REDUCE YOU TO SMITHEREENS! PREPARE TO DIE, YOU FLORAL-SHIRT-WEARING THIEF!"

As he screamed, the sheer, radiating heat and electrical static from his localized rage-aura blasted across the prep station. A row of raw, thick-cut Sea King steaks instantly sizzled, searing flawlessly under the ambient heat. Beside them, a basket of garlic bread toasted to a perfect, golden-brown crisp purely from the static electricity in the air.

"Sanji-kun! The soup is boiling over!" Vivi called out cheerfully as she walked in from a side door, completely ignoring his homicidal breakdown as she carried a stack of fresh napkins to the table.

"COMING, VIVI-CHWAN! MY LOVE WILL COOL IT DOWN!" Sanji’s demeanor instantly snapped from a god of destruction to a swooning puddle of romance, the electrical aura vanishing in a puff of pink smoke as he frantically rushed to adjust the heat on the stove.

Ben chuckled quietly, escorting Robin to the center of the massive oak table, joining Ace and the Giants. He pulled a heavy, ornate chair out for her.

"Thank you," Robin smiled, taking her seat gracefully.

Ben walked around and took the seat directly opposite her, offering her a warm, private smile across the polished wood.

The rest of the crew quickly flooded into the dining hall, creating a cacophony of noise and laughter. Luffy rocketed into his chair at the head of the table, immediately banging his silverware against his plate and chanting for meat. Usopp and Chopper arrived still wearing their floaties, arguing about who won the water fight.

Vivi, acting as the gracious host, glided around the table, serving plates of the exquisite seafood crepes and pouring glasses of chilled sparkling water.

Lunch was a loud, boisterous, and utterly delicious affair. Sanji, despite his lingering, venomous glares directed entirely at Ben, had outdone himself.

Ben calmly cut a piece of the Sea King steak that had just been inadvertently seared by Sanji’s golden aura. He took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, and then looked across the room at the seething cook.

"My compliments to the chef," Ben said politely, raising his glass. "Channeling your intense emotional trauma to achieve this flawless, medium-rare crust was a stroke of culinary genius. The static-toasted garlic bread is also a very nice touch."

Sanji froze. His brain visibly short-circuited.

He stood there, a spatula trembling in his grip, his face contorting violently as he wrestled between his overwhelming desire to brutally murder the Magician and his absolute, unwavering pride as a chef receiving a high-level compliment on a perfect sear.

"I... you... the crust is about heat control..." Sanji stammered, his eye twitching. "I HATE YOU, BUT YOU HAVE EXCELLENT PALATE RECOGNITION! SHUT UP AND EAT YOUR TRAUMA-STEAK!"

"Gladly," Ben smirked.

As the meal finally wound down and the plates were cleared away by a very reluctant Usopp (who had lost a bet to Nami), a comfortable, satisfied lull settled over the room.

Ben leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. He looked across the table at Robin, his golden eyes locking onto her striking blue ones.

"Thank you for having lunch with this humble mortal, my angel," Ben said, his voice a low, smooth baritone that carried just enough volume for her to hear. He offered a dramatic, self-deprecating smile. "I only hope I have not irreparably tarnished your flawless reputation by being seen in my presence."

Robin’s eyes crinkled in delight. She rested her chin on her steepled fingers, playing the game with expert precision.

"You need not worry," Robin chuckled, her voice a velvety purr that sent a shiver down the spine of anyone close enough to hear it. "I have thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you, my devout."

KRA-KOOOOOOM.

From the kitchen, a shockwave of pure, unadulterated spiritual pressure exploded outward.

Ben didn’t even flinch. He just gave a casual, sideways glance toward the culinary workstation.

Sanji was standing perfectly still. His golden aura had vanished, replaced by an intensely dense, terrifying aura of pure, vibrating rage. His hair seemed to have grown significantly longer in the span of five seconds, and his brow was completely furrowed. He had bypassed all previous limits. Anime logic had deemed it necessary. The cook had ascended to Super Saiyan 3.

Sanji was slowly, methodically sharpening a massive butcher knife against a whetstone. Schwing. Schwing. Schwing. His eyes promised nothing but a slow, agonizing death for the Magician.

Ben merely offered the seething cook a polite, two-finger salute, entirely unapologetic.

Deciding it was probably best to exit the blast radius before Sanji’s culinary pride was eclipsed by his homicidal intent, Ben stood up from the table.

He looked down the length of the oak table, his gaze settling on the crews resident cyborg.

"Franky," Ben called out, his tone shifting from playful to all business.

Franky snapped the blowtorch off and looked up. "Yeah, bro? What’s up? Did you need me to strike a pose for dessert?"

"No posing required," Ben said, adjusting his glasses. "Finish your drink and follow me down to the Mega Workshop. I have a few things to discuss with you. Upgrades. Blueprints. The kind of tech that requires a master shipwright to implement."

Franky’s eyes instantly transformed into massive, shining stars. The promise of new technology and upgrades was the ultimate bait.

"SUUUUUUUUPER!" Franky roared, leaping out of his chair so fast he knocked it over. "Lead the way, Magician! Let’s go build some miracles!"

"Excuse me," Ben offered a polite nod to the rest of the table, and specifically to Robin, before turning on his heel.

Franky followed closely behind him, his heavy, metallic footsteps echoing as the two of them left the dining hall, descending into the belly of the ship to forge the future of the Straw Hat arsenal.