Chapter Two: Portraits of Characters

Though he grumbled, he didn’t dwell long on the matter—after all, if even a pirate like him couldn’t make sense of these things in the imperial capital, the designer probably hadn’t patched this particular bug yet.

“We’ll wait and see. Hopefully, he notices the issue before everything ends.”

Having finished his prayer, Buffon placed the sewn-up body back into its coffin, then turned to Hogback and said, “It’s done.”

Hogback inspected the zombie, which, apart from its pallor, was indistinguishable from the living, and praised him sincerely: “Buffon, your stitching has become truly remarkable—almost catching up with my own genius. Clearly, you approach this as an art, just as I do! No wonder, out of the dozen or so apprentices who started with us, you’re the only one who stayed.”

Buffon kept silent on the surface, but inwardly cursed: If it weren’t for the fact that the Thriller Bark is free from major upheavals for the next ten years, and I’m bound to this absurd golden finger, who would willingly spend their days in this sunless castle, forever reeking of corpses, just to keep you company?

Hogback was already accustomed to Buffon’s indifference, even considering it an essential trait for anyone who would inherit his legacy.

Returning to his room, Buffon collapsed onto his bed and resumed studying his golden finger.

Through various experiments since his arrival, Buffon discovered that the “Character Compendium” in his mind wasn’t all that complicated—it was essentially like a set of collectible character cards from an anime. As long as Buffon successfully stitched a body together, the Compendium would display information about that body and grant Buffon a random enhancement to one of his abilities.

The extent of the enhancement depended on several factors:

First: the body’s rank, essentially its strength. The Compendium categorized them from T0 to T9, with higher ranks yielding greater rewards; T0 being the highest.

Second: the strength of the body’s obsession—the stronger the obsession, the greater Buffon’s gain.

Third: the bounty on the body’s original owner—the higher the bounty, the more Buffon gained upon restoration. As for those from the navy or civilian factions, Buffon had yet to encounter them and so didn’t know the specifics.

Why bodies rather than corpses? The Compendium had clearly set the host’s future path as a ship’s doctor. Start with corpses, then move on to stitching the living—improving one’s main profession while also levelling up numerous side skills.

A complete pathway to advancement in life had been laid out; it was up to Buffon to see if he could endure.

Moreover, Buffon’s birthplace was a stroke of luck. Thriller Bark, which rarely left the Devil’s Triangle for ten years, was the perfect place for careful growth. And with Moriah as the ship’s master—someone content to hide away for twenty years and always eager to delegate—Buffon enjoyed considerable freedom.

With these thoughts, Buffon drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, Buffon returned to the laboratory.

Inside were more than a dozen operating tables, where zombie puppets were already busily stitching corpses—every one of them, like Buffon, was under Hogback’s command. But as the only living person, Buffon outranked them all; he was the leader of every zombie puppet present.

His keen eyes spotted a zombie puppet about to finish its assignment; Buffon barked, “Number 523, stop! I’ll take over!”

Without further ado, he snatched the needle from 523 and began stitching the body himself.

“Master Buffon?” the zombie stammered, confused.

Buffon ignored any protest, activating his Devil Fruit ability to finish the incomplete parts. His eyes narrowed as he examined the previous stitches—untidy lines crawling like centipedes.

He swiftly removed all the shoddy stitches and redid the entire operation.

Number 523 stood aside, expressionless—after all, obedience was programmed into a zombie puppet’s every fiber.

When Buffon finished the last stitch, the Character Compendium flashed in his mind:

[Name: Holmes]
[Rank: T9]
[Faction: Pirate]
[Bounty: 300,000 Berries]
[Obsession: 93%]
[Potential Reward: Vision +35 → 101 (Level 2 Lookout)]
[Claim reward?]

Vision? So, this one was a lookout in life.

Apparently so.

Before he could ponder further, the Compendium flipped to another entry:

[Name: Laponks]
[Rank: T8]
[Faction: Pirate]
[Bounty: 500,000 Berries]
[Obsession: 86%]
[Potential Reward: Cooking +7 → 9 (Level 1 Cook’s Assistant)]
[Claim reward?]

Buffon glanced around. You can stop one, but not all. Another zombie puppet had already finished its task. “Master Buffon, please check my work!”

All these zombie puppets were under Buffon’s command, so their results could also benefit him, though at a much lower rate.

With a frown, Buffon ordered, “Everyone, stop what you’re doing and look at your handiwork. What kind of stitching is this?”

He tore off a poorly attached zombie arm. “With skills like yours, how can these puppets do any work for Lord Moriah even if they’re given shadows? Go! Check all previous work, and if you find anything like this, bring them back for rework!”

The zombie puppets obeyed, dispersing to check previous creations. Buffon set to work in the laboratory, undoing and redoing stitches himself.

Two hours later, all the corpses on the dozen tables had been redone.

There were fourteen bodies in this batch. The Character Compendium appeared fourteen times, with participation percentages ranging from 35% to 85%, and rewarded Buffon with improvements in five or six different skills—a comprehensive upgrade.

[Medicine +45 → 156 (Level 2 Quack)]
[Agility +7 → 142 (Level 2 Swiftness)]
[Navigation +9 → 9 (Level 1 Helmsman)]
[Cooking +5 → 10 (Level 1 Cook’s Assistant)]
[Physique +31 → 136 (Level 2 Lieutenant)]

Among them was a civilian body—the one that gave him a boost in medical skills:

[Name: Klein]
[Faction: Civilian]
[Value: 350,000 Berries]

So, it was still measured in Berries, only now called value instead of bounty.

Buffon had already figured out the Compendium’s rules for quantifying abilities: each skill from 1 to 99 was Level 1, 100 and above was Level 2. As for Level 3—whether it required 500 or 1000 points—he had yet to discover.

Buffon was mulling this over when heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor.

Moments later, Moriah’s massive frame filled the doorway. “Kishishishishi! Buffon, did you make Perona’s new toy?”

Seeing his “boss,” Buffon’s expression hardly changed—he merely nodded.

Moriah approached the operating table and carefully examined Buffon’s latest handiwork. He grabbed the stitched wound and yanked hard.

It didn’t budge.

“Kishishishishi! This is the perfect fusion of art and war. Looking at these zombies, I can already imagine the look on Kaido’s face when he fails.” Moriah’s gaze was intoxicated.

Buffon remained impassive, as if all of this was perfectly natural.

“Buffon, do you want me to teach you some combat techniques?” Moriah offered.

“No need. With the zombie legion, there’s no use for me,” Buffon replied coldly.

“Kishishishishi! Then I’ll have a private laboratory set up for you in the castle—you won’t have to share space with these zombies anymore.”

Buffon nodded.

Moriah’s hulking form lumbered out, his demonic laughter echoing down the corridor.

At that moment, Buffon spotted a fly hovering near the entrance, ten meters away.

A steel needle shot from his hand, trailed by a thread conjured by his Stitch-Stitch Fruit, and pierced the fly in midair, neatly suspending it as if frozen in flight.

“Oh, so my eyesight’s improved this much? And that hand speed!”

Buffon was about to investigate when, distracted, he accidentally kicked over a coffin nearly three meters long.

Instinctively, he reached out with one hand and easily set it upright.

He paused, stunned.

He remembered clearly that when he first arrived, moving a coffin of that size required help from zombie puppets and chains for leverage. Yet today, he’d lifted it single-handedly without the slightest strain.

If the boost from Level 2 attributes was already this pronounced, what would Level 3 or 4 be like?

Would he be able to see Kizaru’s laser beams with the naked eye? Crush Akainu’s head with a single hand?—no, Akainu!

With these thoughts, Buffon’s resolve to lie low and bide his time here only grew stronger.