Chapter Twelve: The Devil Fruit

In the depths of the night, the wine was finished and the dishes were gone. Shanks and Yasopp departed. Before leaving, Yasopp made Maud promise to cherish the gun as he would his own son. After Yasopp was gone, Maud silently gave the flintlock a new name—Usopp.

As the night grew deeper, Maud, satisfied with his acquisition of a gun and bullets, lay in bed as sleep gradually overtook him. Faintly, he seemed to hear Saul’s indignant shouting, complaining that the wine was gone yet again. But none of that mattered anymore. What mattered was that he now had both gun and bullets, and had taken a major step toward his second hunt.

The next day, Maud awoke early once more. He began with several sets of high-intensity exercises before heading downstairs. By then, Sunny had already prepared a table overflowing with breakfast, and Saul had gone out early for his morning training in the Flower Street. Once again, it had to be said—the food in the shop was nothing short of divine. Yet Maud found it puzzling that despite the lavish meals and Sunny’s hearty appetite, her figure remained so slender… so delicate.

Odd as it was, he didn’t let it slow his eating. Devouring breakfast, he cleaned up the table without needing Sunny’s instruction, then dutifully swept through the shop. Seeing that there was still time, he extended his cleaning to the hallways and corridors.

Sunny came downstairs, taking out her measuring tape to check the placement of each item on display. With that done, the shop opened for business for another day. As expected, hours passed without a single customer.

But Maud’s perspective had changed after Yasopp spent five million Berries on two guns yesterday. Clearly, this was a boutique weapons store—one that could go days without a sale, but any sale would sustain it for years.

With nothing to do, Maud either sorted through his memories or did more exercises. Sunny sat behind the counter, engrossed in the daily paper. She paid no mind to Maud’s training in the shop, nor interfered with him. Her relaxed management made Maud feel at ease.

Near midday, the door swung open.

Maud assumed Saul had returned from his workout, but looked up to see that it was Arthur, the undertaker. Arthur stepped inside, pulling the door almost shut behind him. He glanced at Sunny and Maud. “Has Saul come back yet?”

“Not yet,” Sunny replied, setting aside her newspaper.

Arthur frowned. “At this hour, and he’s still out? He’s getting younger by the day.”

Sunny said nothing further.

Arthur shrugged it off, walked to the counter and leaned against it, launching into a complaint. “Yesterday, nearly a thousand slaves died or were injured in a riot at the pig factory. I’m exhausted. What are those slaves thinking? Wouldn’t it be better to just live quietly? Now production at the pig factory will fall short, and it’s the other slaves who’ll suffer for it.”

As Arthur spoke of slaves so casually, Sunny’s expression grew cold and grim. Noticing her reaction, Arthur patted his mask and made a half-hearted apology. “Sorry, forgot you don’t like hearing about that.”

Sunny snorted, refusing to respond.

Arthur sensed the tension but didn’t care. He smiled, took a plain booklet from his pocket, and placed it on the counter. “This is today’s auction catalogue. Saul will be very interested. Tell him I’ll be waiting at the auction house doors at the end of the month.”

“Alright,” Sunny replied coolly.

Arthur shrugged, turned to leave. Before he went out, he glanced at Maud and said ominously, “Kid, best not wander the streets these days, unless you want to get snatched up for the pig factory.”

With that, Arthur left, remembering to leave the shop door half-shut, maintaining the unwritten rule.

After Arthur left, Maud approached the counter. “Sunny, what is the pig factory?”

“Some of the meat you ate this morning comes from there. What do you think it is?”

“But what does that have to do with slaves…”

Halfway through, Maud suddenly imagined some disturbing scenes, his face changed and he exclaimed, “The meat couldn’t possibly be…?”

Sunny saw his reaction and knew he’d gotten the wrong idea. “What are you thinking? It’s just a food production base, with proper livestock and crop farming. Most of the workers there are ordinary people taken by slave ships and pirates from different places. Some are navy soldiers captured by pirates, which is why it has that infamous nickname.”

She paused, then glanced at Maud’s still-bandaged wounds, her voice meaningful. “To those beasts, heavily injured prisoners are worthless. Considering the cost of transporting them, they won’t bother selling them on the black market. Usually, they’re just thrown into the sea.”

Sunny’s tone grew calm. “So Maud, you’re very lucky.”

“Lucky…” Maud looked thoughtfully at the disfiguring scar on Sunny’s face, nodding. “Yes, waking up here was a stroke of luck.”

“Actually, you should thank Saul, he…”

Sunny flipped open Arthur’s catalogue, but suddenly stopped mid-sentence, her expression shifting to excitement. “Devil Fruit! There’s actually a Devil Fruit at this auction!”

“Hm?” Maud’s eyebrows rose. Ignoring the consequences, he stepped behind the counter to look at the booklet in Sunny’s hands.

A fruit with strange ripples appeared in the illustration. Seeing it, Maud’s gaze changed instantly.

A Devil Fruit—the shortcut to power that most people dream of!

But with his current resources, obtaining it was impossible—a mere fantasy.

Maud didn’t dare entertain the thought, and quickly regained his composure. He noticed Sunny’s fingers gripping the booklet so tightly they’d turned white, clearly feeling her excitement.

That excitement was born from a desperate longing for strength.

“A windfall like a Devil Fruit is beyond my reach for now,” Maud thought, turning his eyes from the catalogue.

Though a Devil Fruit could let him quickly become stronger and hunt sooner, he had no money, nor the strength to steal it. Why waste emotion on it?

Still, he found himself interested in the end-of-month auction. He might not have money, but surely he could attend just to see the spectacle?

Perhaps the presence of the Devil Fruit would cause chaos in the auction house. If so, his old Usopp might accidentally misfire from afar and take someone out—nothing too dramatic.

“There are over twenty days until the end of the month. If I can hunt some prey before then…”

Maud considered the possibilities.

Suddenly, the shop door opened again.

It was still not Saul, but a strange man with long golden hair and a blue mask with holes across his face.

Maud recognized him at once.

Wasn’t this Killer, one of the Supernovas from Kid’s crew?