Spoiler:

Cyrus had wandered from the streets for his scrap metal shopping spree down to the coast of Jaya Island in search of the next item. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with scratching from a pencil that only he could decipher. It wasn't written in code or anything, the man just had terrible handwriting.
Hmmm various pieces of metal, check. Next up we need....ah yes, a snail! This should be fun. Cyrus said with a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

As he walked, he clattered and jingled, and sounded like hundreds of pairs of keys rubbing against on another. The people he passed eyed him warily, wondering just what in the hell the strange man had stuffed in the pockets of his jacket to be making such noise. At least one or two petty criminals watched him for a long moment, possibly assuming the jingling was gold or precious jewels, boy would they be surprised if they tried to mug him. Regardless, Cyrus eventually made his way down to the coast line without being bothered by anyone.

There, he found it was peak low tide on Jaya, creating numerous different wading pools along the sandy shore. He scanned the area around him, looking for the best pool for Den Den Mushi snails and discovered a moderately sized one that looked about knee deep at its center. Rubbing his hands together he smiled wolfishly before walking over. Taking off his heavy jacket and dropping the nail board and rusty pipe, Cyrus unloaded most of the weight from his body. A jacket filled with scrap metal was one thing but a wet jacket filled with scrap metal, that'd just be ridiculous.

As he removed his shoes and dipped a toe in to test the temperature of the water, internal alarm bells started going off. A deep, unannounced instinct caught hold of him as he suddenly recoiled from the water in fear and surprise.
What in the- He thought out loud, searching his brain for why he had responded to the water in such a way, then remembering the stories he had heard about Devil Fruit users. Sitting down on the sand by the shore of the tide pool, Cyrus put his head in his hands in frustration and defeat.
I can't even swim anymore? This thing is a curse! He groveled into his hands in disappointment.

He picked his head up and looked at the tide pool in frustration, the Den Den Mushi snails were right there on the bottom, just idly wandering about, slowly and ripe for the pickings. All he had to do was wade in, reach down and snatch one up, easy as pie, but not with this blasted devil fruit. As he looked at the water in disgust and anger, he noticed a long shadow, that of a tree, cast over the center of the tide pool. Following the shadow to the right and its origin, Cyrus found a large palm tree leaning over the tide pool, sitting on a mound of sand that usually protected it from the sea water when the tide was high. Just behind the tree was a moderately sized boulder and as Cyrus stared at the strange, natural construction, an idea began to form in his head.

He looked down at his hands, then back at the rock and tree, then back down to his hands, then at the tide pool. Quickly he sprang to his feet and ran over to the tree, pushing on it vigorously to check its strength. To the tree's credit, it stood firmly planted even with Cyrus giving it his all. Cyrus smiled as he began willing threads out of his back side. He ran over to the boulder, looping them around it and tying them tightly, pulling to make sure they wouldn't break or come undone. He then shuffled up the tree like a monkey, all the way to the top and, using the top as leverage, began slowly willing the threads to give him more slack. At one point he lost concentration and began rapidly descending towards the water below,
AHHHH No, no no! Stop! Cyrus exclaimed and he felt a jerking sensation as the threads stopped loosening and tightened.

He was just above the water's surface now, a clear reflection of himself staring back at him as he breathed heavily from that sudden adrenaline boost. Just below the water's surface he could see the snails, some staring back up at him in curious amusement. They were close enough that Cyrus only had to reach out and pluck one up to be done with this wild shopping trip. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible, so as he hung there, helpless but thinking, he decided to wrangle the snails like a ranch hand and created a small lasso in the palm of his hand by looping threads together.

Twirling it by circling his wrist above the water, Cyrus threw the lasso at the nearest snail but missed by a mile. The snail looked down at the string to its right with little curiosity before bending down, plucking at some sea weed and looking back up at Cyrus, chewing and waiting for the strange man's next feat of entertainment. Cyrus groaned and grumbled, retracting the homemade lasso back to his palm and trying once more.

This time he actually managed to get it around the snail, who simply looked down at the thread around him with nonchalant interest and continued chewing his sea weed. However, when Cyrus went to pull it tight, he instead pulled it off the snail's shell and closed the loop in the middle of the water.
Oh come on! The Revolutionary shouted, still dangling over the water.

On his third attempt, he managed to not only get the thread around the snail but pull it tight enough to securely ensnare it. Even trapped within the string the snail seemed to hardly regard it or be bothered as it stared down at the rope ensnaring it before looking up at Cyrus through the surface of the water.
Hahaha, gotcha! Cyrus declared triumphantly before the strings connecting his back began to retract and pull him and the snail up to the tree. Once there he untied the strings around the snail and climbed down the tree. He held the bored looking snail out in front of him and smiled,
I shall call you Sir Reginald and you shall be my new phone.
The snail simply yawned and stared back.

Cyrus gathered his things, putting his jacket filled with scrap metal and wires back on and tucking the Den Den Mushi snail under one arm while the rusty pipe and nailed plywood went under the other. With a hop in his step and a whistle on his lips, the strange scientist headed back into the seedier side of Mock Town in search of a place to begin working now that he had gathered all of his materials.

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