Chapter 109: The Scientist

“Are you a scientist?”

Hearing Kentucky’s brief self-introduction, Garen immediately became intrigued.

Before him stood a frail middle-aged man with dull eyes, dark circles, and disheveled hair—looking every bit like an overworked internet employee stuck in a 996 schedule. Yet to Garen, this figure suddenly seemed to radiate a peculiar wisdom, the kind that conceals brilliance beneath apparent clumsiness.

Garen, now more curious, pressed further:
“Did you invent the steam engine and the breech-loading cannon on that ironclad warship?”

Seeing the eager look in Garen’s eyes, Kentucky quietly shrank back and sheepishly replied:
“No.”

“Those inventions are the patents of the captain of the Ironclad Pirate Crew.”

Garen’s mind instantly flashed to the image of the three-meter-tall, axe-wielding burly captain.

“You really can’t judge a book by its cover...” Garen muttered, covering his face in resignation.

He had taken the enemy captain for a mindless brute and beheaded him without hesitation.
Thus, the grand plan to vigorously advance the tech industry and stride into the industrial age was abruptly dashed.

“Wait,” Garen asked again, curiosity piqued, “If you didn’t invent the tech on that ship, then what kind of scientist are you?”

To ensure his safety before the leader of an unknown armed group, Kentucky anxiously tried to prove his worth:
“I am definitely a scientist!”

For the first time, a spark of pride lit up Kentucky’s usually listless demeanor, and his weak voice grew clearer:
“The technology on that ship is so primitive, it hardly counts as high tech.”

“Compared to my level of research, those are just scrap relics destined for the history dump.”

This confident assertion rekindled Garen’s hope:
Indeed, in the pirate world, steam engines were hardly considered advanced technology.

While most pirates still relied on ancient sailing ships, a select few elite figures had already tinkered with black technologies like submarines, robots, and laser cannons.

Garen eagerly asked,
“Can you build more advanced warships and artillery then?”

“No, I can’t,” Kentucky’s face flushed slightly as he cautiously explained,
“Although I’m a scientist, my research is limited to biology and chemistry...”

Garen was taken aback, disappointment immediately clouding his expression.
“How can you be a scientist and still have specialties?!”

On Earth, science was divided into disciplines like mathematics, mechanics, physics, chemistry, and biology. As human knowledge deepened, even the most eminent scholars specialized within their fields or contributed to interdisciplinary areas.

But everyone knew:
In other worlds, scientists rarely had such divisions.

A great scientist there could launch satellites, conduct manned spaceflight, study viruses, enhance human bodies, and moonlight as a hacker or programmer.
Like Germa 66’s commander Vinsmoke Judge, who mastered cloning, genetic modification, battle suits, and flying shoes—completely ignoring academic boundaries, essentially a supercharged Professor Agasa.

So a scientist like Kentucky, who openly admitted to specializing only in certain fields...

“Is obviously a second-rate scientist!” Garen concluded with disappointment.

Kentucky’s face darkened but he dared not argue with this layman’s blunt judgment.

Garen thought for a moment more and asked,
“If you’re clueless about weapons research, why did those pirates kidnap you?”

As the leader of an armed group, Garen’s mind had grown somewhat militaristic, and he immediately connected Kentucky’s specialty to violence:
“Could they want you to develop poison gas?”

Garen first thought of the gas bombs used by Klick, but then, relying on his modern knowledge, he imagined the more terrifying applications of biochemistry in weaponry:
“Or... are those pirates forcing you to study biological weapons?”

“Anthrax, cholera, smallpox, typhoid, plague...?”

Kentucky shuddered at the thought.

Though an expert in the field, he had never entertained the horrific idea of weaponizing diseases; no research institutions on the seas engaged in such work.

But following Garen’s reasoning, Kentucky quickly grasped the dreadful potential of bioweapons:
Cheap, efficient, covert, capable of massive area effects, able to wipe out cities or nations with a mere gesture.

“Of course not!” Kentucky looked at Garen timidly, his eyes full of fear, as if staring at a demon:
“How could you think such things? That’s just too terrifying!”

Garen awkwardly closed his mouth, his expression growing somber:
When it came to killing, Earthlings could be even more ruthless and inhumane than these sword-and-sorcery world dwellers.

In Earth’s wars, such brutality was often unleashed to the fullest by warmongers.

“Ah...” Garen shook his head and decided not to dwell on bioweapons.

He shifted the topic back, asking Kentucky,
“If not for that, why did those pirates kidnap you? Ransom?”

Kentucky’s face flushed with embarrassment:
“Actually, I used to be a senior researcher employed by a northern sea country.”

“Later, some conflicts at work forced me to quit and return home alone.”

“And then?”

Seeing Kentucky slip into memories, Garen played along as the attentive listener.

“Well...” Kentucky said indignantly,
“My previous employer was terrible, and I didn’t get a single cent of salary.”

“I’m so intelligent and have worked so hard for years, yet when I returned home, I was still penniless!”

His expression grew more aggrieved:
“But I didn’t lose heart—I simply kept doing research that interested me.”

“During my experiments, I occasionally synthesized a strange substance!”

Kentucky’s eyes suddenly brightened:
“This compound is amazing!”

“It not only relieves pain, anesthetizes, soothes coughs and asthma, but also invigorates and energizes.”

Garen silently glanced at Kentucky’s lifeless face and immediately doubted his claims.

“The most important thing is...” Kentucky earnestly explained,
“When added to fried chicken, it makes people crave more!”

“So I opened a fried chicken shop at home and got rich again thanks to this technology.”

“But unexpectedly, because my fried chicken was so delicious...”

Kentucky recalled with deep pain:
“Those pirates kidnapped me to be their ship’s chef!”

.................................................................

Dinner time.

Kentucky had successfully joined Garen’s crew, leveraging his scientist status.

At dinner, Garen personally requested this great scientist to serve the famed “Kentucky Fried Chicken” that pirates supposedly fought over.

Joining the meal were also Nami and Princess Vivi, who had heard the news and came with great anticipation.

But after all the expectation, Kentucky presented a plate of fried chicken that looked quite unappetizing.

Seeing the dull yellow fried skin, poor Nami showed no reaction, but the finely raised Princess Vivi subtly frowned.

Yet, seeing neither Nami nor Garen show disdain, Vivi suppressed her little princess tantrum and took a piece to taste.

“Honestly, it’s just average...” Vivi honestly voiced her true reaction.

Nami tried a piece and agreed:
“Indeed, just average.”

“My cooking skills are better than this!” Nami even boasted to Garen.

However, Vivi continued eating out of a sense of not wasting food and soon noticed something unusual about the chicken:
“It’s strange—this chicken gives a feeling of alertness and energy!”

As she spoke, Vivi’s eyes grew bright and dreamy, her pale cheeks flushed with excitement.

Nami exhibited the same change, seeming genuinely invigorated.

“What’s going on?” Garen looked puzzled, glancing at Kentucky: “Does this chicken really have a stimulating effect?”

“Of course!” Kentucky proudly pulled out a small pouch of mysterious white powder from his pocket:
“As long as it’s seasoned with my secret spice, people will keep wanting more!”

Garen looked at the powder and recalled Kentucky’s previous claims of “cough relief, pain relief, anesthesia,” and his pupils suddenly constricted as he asked:
“Kentucky, this stuff isn’t extracted from some kind of plant, is it?”

“You guessed it!” Kentucky beamed, showing off to Garen:
“Yes, it’s a product synthesized from pure natural plant extracts!”

“Not only natural and healthy, but it has all sorts of strange effects—I can’t live without it now!”

Garen’s face darkened as he fell silent.

No wonder both the pirate captain worth fifty million and Kentucky himself looked so frail—now he understood why...

“Damn it!” Garen cursed under his breath and punched the still-recovering Kentucky again, turning him into a seriously ill patient:
“You actually poisoned the chicken!”