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Chapter 3: The Newbie Gift Pack
🕑 Added 2024-12-16 05:07:33 +0000 UTCEustass Kid.
In the original story, he is one of the Supernovas alongside Luffy, Zoro, and others, representing the "Worst Generation" of pirates. Ruthless and unflinching, he is a cold-blooded killer.
Mobin instinctively classified Kid as a potential target. However, no matter how much he pondered, he wasn’t foolish enough to act recklessly.
If conditions allowed, he’d gladly claim Kid’s experience points without hesitation. But if not, he wouldn’t risk it for anything—especially considering he was currently as weak as a fledgling chick.
“This world of One Piece...”
Mobin withdrew his gaze and lowered his head to conceal the flicker in his eyes.
Seeing the young Kid here was utterly unexpected. It was like a trigger, flooding his mind with long-buried memories of One Piece.
These memories would one day transform into crucial intelligence in his hunter’s notebook, converting into valuable experience points.
Mobin and Sunny’s arrival interrupted the tension-filled standoff in the room, initiating a brief pause in hostilities.
Kid glanced at Mobin, who had his head bowed in silence. How could he know that this seemingly frail-looking stranger had already marked him as one of his future hunting targets?
Even if Kid knew, he’d probably just scoff disdainfully.
Kid quickly shifted his attention to Sol, speaking in an impatient tone.
“Hey, old man, where’d you dig up another free laborer? I wonder what kind of death this one’s in for. My guess: hacked to bits and left as a worthless pile of flesh in the street.”
Sol, whose face bore the marks of age, casually flicked his gilded pipe, letting the ash fall to the ground.
“Heh, Mad Hatter Town is full of ‘undertakers.’ Even if this little guy is hacked into pieces, they’ll find a way to extract value from the remains. So, as long as the death is worthwhile, I don’t mind not profiting from it at all.”
Sol then chuckled and added, “Speaking of labor, I have high hopes for you, Kid. Here’s the deal: work for me, and I’ll get you not just Kinu’s revolver, but Salamand’s dagger too. I’ll even supply you with the finest rum from the West Blue.”
“Scram!”
Kid’s voice was icy. “I’ll never work under anyone.”
“What a pity,” Sol replied, shaking his head theatrically.
Mobin listened quietly, picking up on some useful bits of information.
Mad Hatter Town? The West Sea?
A place where people could kill freely in the streets, coupled with the gunfire he’d heard earlier—this was likely a lawless black zone frequented by pirates.
Mobin discreetly glanced at the shop’s weapon-stocked shelves.
This was an armory.
And Sol, who appeared to be the owner, seemed to adhere to his own unique principles of value.
Mobin mulled over these observations.
As an outsider new to this place, he knew to tread carefully.
Sol, meanwhile, noticed Mobin’s composure and a glint flashed in his eyes. He jumped down from the stool behind the counter and approached, revealing his diminutive stature of less than a meter.
Mobin reflexively glanced at the counter, which stood over 1.5 meters tall, and realized Sol had likely been standing on a stool to meet Kid at eye level.
Their earlier exchange of sharp words had worn Kid’s patience thin. Watching Sol step out from behind the counter, Kid growled, “Are you going to sell me that gun or not?”
Sol glanced at the bag of beri Kid held and asked casually, “Where’d you get the money?”
A vein popped on Kid’s forehead as he barked, “Why do you care where I got it? Are you selling or not?”
If he didn’t know Sol wasn’t simple, Kid wouldn’t have wasted his time here.
Sol, unbothered by Kid’s rising temper, took a leisurely puff of his pipe.
“I already told you. I’d rather dismantle Kinu’s revolver and toss the parts in a landfill than sell it to you.”
Several more veins bulged on Kid’s face as he snarled, “Then hurry up and toss it!”
Knock, knock.
Sol tapped his pipe against the counter. “I’ll pick a good day to do that.”
“You old bastard!”
Kid barely restrained his fury.
The stark contrast between his boiling anger and Sol’s unruffled demeanor was not lost on Mobin, who began to see Sol in a new light.
If this old man could make someone as hot-headed and impulsive as Kid suppress his rage, he was no pushover.
Mobin kept observing, while next to him Sunny sighed quietly.
From her perspective, while Sol was a miser, he wasn’t the type to bow to anyone for money. He especially detested rude people.
So, as long as Kid had been polite, he could’ve easily bought Kinu’s revolver for the right price.
Yet Kid refused to adjust his attitude, leading to this absurd scene of a customer demanding to buy something the shopkeeper refused to sell.
What baffled Sunny most was Sol’s repeated tolerance of Kid’s behavior, given his notoriously unyielding personality.
What could Sol possibly see in Kid?
Frustrated by his fruitless attempt to buy the gun, Kid grabbed his money bag and stomped toward the shop’s open door.
“Don’t let the door hit you,” Sol said in a flat tone.
Kid didn’t look back.
Just as he reached the doorway, the wooden door suddenly swung open with a loud bang.
A bloodstained man carrying a machete kicked it in, slamming it so hard against the wall that it nearly broke apart.
The man exuded a murderous aura, his killing spree clearly fresh in his veins.
His eyes immediately locked onto Kid’s bulging money bag, and his voice dripped with icy menace.
“You little punk. Made me hunt you down all over.”
Kid’s lips curled into a cold smirk as he retorted, “And where’d this stray dog come from?”
Before things could escalate, Sol acted. With a flicker of movement, he was behind the intruder. The next moment, the machete-wielding man was unconscious, courtesy of a well-placed smack.
Kid’s pupils contracted. Despite being closest, he hadn’t seen Sol’s movements clearly.
This old man... really wasn’t to be trifled with.
Sol landed lightly on the ground.
Given his height, if he didn’t jump, he could only hit the knife-wielding man’s knees.
After landing, Sol didn’t even glance at the unconscious man on the ground. Instead, he turned his attention to Kid, who remained standing still, and said calmly, “What’s the matter? Planning to stay for dinner?”
Kid’s cheeks twitched, and without a word, he strode off without looking back.
As Sol watched Kid leave, he promptly closed the shop door, which seemed to be nearing retirement itself.
Sunny approached Sol from behind and whispered, “I think you’re being too ‘kind’ to Kid.”
“Kind?”
Sol turned around, looked at Sunny, and chuckled. “Why not use the word ‘biased’? It might be more fitting.”
“Hmm.” Sunny nodded in agreement while searching the unconscious man for valuables. As she continued her search, she repeated, “I think you’re being too ‘biased’ toward Kid.”
“Heh.”
Sol put away his gilded pipe and picked up the blood-stained machete that had fallen to the ground.
“This world is black or white; fairness doesn’t exist. The reason I’m ‘biased’ toward him is because he has the value that makes it worth being ‘biased’.”
As Sol spoke, he wiped the machete clean, then placed it on one of the shelves, turning it into an item for sale.
Watching the pair expertly switch between chatting and earning money, Mobin couldn’t help but feel a little awkward.
After placing the machete in its spot, Sol walked up to the unconscious man and gave him a light kick on the forehead.
“This guy’s head might be worth something, but it’s a shame we can’t cash it in. By the way, what’s his name again?”
“He’s Evan Watt, captain of the Ghost Blade Pirates. Known as ‘The Executioner,’ he’s a skilled swordsman in the West Blue with a bounty of 11 million belli,” Sunny said while placing the valuables she’d collected onto the counter.
As Mad Hatter Town’s unofficial and somewhat unreliable information broker, Sunny kindly helped complete the pirate’s interrupted introduction.
“Oh.”
Sol stroked his chin and suddenly looked at Mobin, who had been quiet and reserved the entire time.
“You, come here.”
Seeing Sol pointing at him, Mobin immediately stepped forward without hesitation.
Sol raised his hand and lightly tapped Mobin on the knee, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you show some respect for your elders? Do I need to remind you to sit down?”
The corner of Mobin’s mouth twitched as he immediately understood Sol’s meaning. Without delay, he sat cross-legged on the ground, successfully bringing himself to eye level with Sol.
Satisfied that they were now on equal footing, Sol nodded approvingly and took a close look at Mobin.
From his initial impression, Sol was quite pleased with Mobin’s calmness throughout the entire ordeal—a quality not often found in ordinary people.
“What’s your name?” Sol asked.
“Bacardi Mobin.”
The name matched the signature on the photo, sparing Mobin the effort of coming up with a fake one.
“That surname...”
Sol muttered to himself, instinctively glancing at Sunny for clarification.
“Liquor brand,” Sunny replied.
Sol suddenly realized, “Oh! Now I remember. Their rum isn’t bad. Wasn’t there something in the papers a few days ago? Something about one of their armed merchant ships being raided by a pirate crew? No survivors, including the head of the company.”
Sunny nodded. “That’s right.”
“Hmm, now that’s interesting.”
Sol turned his gaze back to Mobin, his eyes narrowing slightly.
After a moment of silence, without giving Mobin a chance to react, Sol suddenly took out a small, fruit-knife-sized dagger and handed it to Mobin with a smile.
“Consider this a farewell to the past. Go kill this Evan Watt guy.”
“No problem!”
Mobin’s eyes flickered slightly, and he accepted the dagger without hesitation.
His face remained neutral, but inwardly, he was ecstatic.
This was practically a golden opportunity delivered straight to his doorstep.
Mobin glanced at the unconscious Watt. I’ll remember you, Evan Watt, known as The Executioner with a bounty of 11 million belli.
In his heart, Mobin paid silent tribute to his target.
Seeing Mobin’s straightforward and obedient behavior, Sol became even more satisfied.
Then Mobin suddenly said, “I’d like to use the restroom first.”
“...” Sol.
“...” Sunny.
