Chapter Forty-Seven: He Is Not a Pirate

A baffling question made Mode’s gaze toward Tatam become somewhat peculiar.

Pirate?

Mode did not consider himself a pirate.

From now on, he had little interest in being defined by such a title.

“No.”

Without much thought, Mode answered Tatam’s question.

Tatam, upon hearing this, instinctively glanced at the stairs leading to the second floor, then lowered his head and silently picked up a glass, wiping it again.

Mode looked at Tatam and said, “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Sell.”

Hearing Mode’s follow-up, Tatam finally responded, belatedly.

His tavern was, indeed, a place for trading information.

That was also the reason Wolf Rat had always stayed here and gotten acquainted with him.

Mode wore an expression of unsurprised understanding.

In his view, taverns in places like this, besides selling drinks, mostly served as information exchanges.

In this regard, it was much like the Hunter’s World.

He glanced once more at the desolate seats, then smiled, “This place is nice. I’ll come often.”

Tatam was slightly taken aback, then nodded after a moment. “Welcome.”

In just these few minutes of contact, he felt a hint of goodwill toward Mode.

But thinking of Wolf Rat and that dangerous woman’s apparent goal—Mode—he couldn’t help but glance again at the stairs to the second floor.

From the interaction between Wolf Rat and the woman last night, Tatam could easily infer Wolf Rat’s true identity.

He also understood clearly why Wolf Rat brought Mode here.

A new friend…

Tatam silently wiped the glass, but never considered getting involved.

Though his first impression of Mode was good, Wolf Rat was a confidant, more important than Mode.

After a few exchanges, Mode noticed Tatam never said more than five words at a time.

Still, he could empathize with Tatam’s situation.

As a grown man, anyone cursed with such a voice would probably rarely speak.

Mode tilted his head, glanced at the stairs, and suddenly asked, “Does Wolf Rat live here?”

Tatam nodded.

Mode understood, lowering his gaze to the glass, pondering Wolf Rat’s motivations.

What troubled him more was how Wolf Rat had managed to find him just now.

Like a bloodhound.

Which meant disguising himself was useless in front of Wolf Rat.

Yet today, Wolf Rat pretended to approach him as a stranger.

Was it revenge for the shot Mode fired at him yesterday?

If so, why did he also shield him from Kazet?

Thinking it through, Mode felt contradictions everywhere, unable to discern Wolf Rat’s true intentions.

“Tatam, Wolf Rat—that can’t be his real name, right? Sounds more like a nickname.”

Tatam glanced at Mode, then chose silence.

“Alright, guess I was too forward.”

Mode smiled, unconcerned at Tatam’s reaction, then took a banknote from his pocket and pressed it under the glass on the table.

“You’re leaving?”

Tatam eyed the banknote beneath the glass. Normally, he wouldn’t ask.

“Yes, I’ll come again next time.”

Mode stood, and in passing, picked up the white weasel that had somehow hidden under the chair.

Clearly, the weasel had a strong will to survive.

But unfortunately, the person it encountered was Mode.

“I’m off. Tell Wolf Rat for me.”

Mode, holding the weasel, strode toward the tavern door.

Tatam watched Mode depart in silence.

Ten minutes later, Wolf Rat, having tended his wounds, came downstairs.

Seeing the empty bar, he paused in surprise.

As for the white weasel, he’d long since stopped paying it any mind.

“Where did Usopp go?”

“Left.”

Tatam glanced at Wolf Rat’s bandaged hands.

“Damn it, just left like that!!”

Wolf Rat plopped onto a bar stool, tugging his hair in mild irritation.

“It wasn’t easy to become friends, and I wanted to seize the moment to strengthen the bond.”

“Tatam, you know what? Usopp really screwed me today.”

“Look at my hands, my back, even my butt—these wounds are all thanks to him!!”

“If I wasn’t thick-skinned, forget drinking, just standing would be a miracle right now.”

While complaining, Wolf Rat pocketed the banknote Mode had left under the glass.

A drink hardly cost ten thousand Berries.

Tatam watched Wolf Rat’s petty move with resignation, long used to his monologues, and rarely replied.

Wolf Rat stowed the cash, finished his usual complaints, and then downed the untouched glass of liquor in one gulp.

“Another.”

Tatam nodded, soon mixing another drink, then asked, “He’s the target?”

“Who?”

Wolf Rat instinctively replied.

“Usopp.”

“That’s not like you, Tatam.”

…

“I’m telling you, Usopp doesn’t care about your voice at all. Believe me, that guy is trouble. Stay as far from him as you can!”

…

“Also, you’d best not get involved in all this. Even if you know, act like you don’t. Last night, if I hadn’t stopped her, that woman would’ve had a thousand reasons to cut you down just for being a pirate. Of course, I know you’re not a pirate.”

“He isn’t either.”

Tatam looked at the seat Mode had occupied.

Wolf Rat stared at Tatam in surprise.

“Tatam, I don’t care if he’s a pirate now. I just know that one day, he’ll definitely become a pirate—and not just any pirate, but one who’ll give the Navy a real headache.”

“What do you mean?”

A trace of confusion crossed Tatam’s face.

Wolf Rat slowly set the glass down, rolling its rim beneath his thumb.

“It’s complicated. I won’t say, and you shouldn’t ask.”

Tatam nodded and said no more.

“If circumstances allowed, perhaps…”

Wolf Rat’s usually playful expression grew heavy, and cold murderous intent flashed in his eyes.

Crack.

He accidentally crushed the glass—using his heavily wounded hand.

“This…”

Wolf Rat looked at the shards in his hand, sighing, “Tatam, where did you buy these glasses? They’re rubbish. Take these shards and demand a refund.”

“Ten thousand.”

Tatam replied expressionlessly.

“Really ten thousand?”

Wolf Rat’s mouth twitched.

“Ten thousand.”

Tatam repeated.

Wolf Rat, resigned, handed over the banknote that hadn’t even warmed his pocket.

…………

Mode returned safely to the weapons shop.

As soon as he stepped inside, he felt a sharp gaze.

Faced with Sunny’s dagger-like glare, Mode pretended not to notice.

“Sunny, has Thor woken up yet?”

“No idea.”

Sunny replied irritably.

“Alright.”

Mode walked to the counter and held up the white weasel to Sunny.

“Look, I brought something good back.”

“Planning to add it to the menu?”

Sunny asked, puzzled, eyeing the weasel.

The weasel shuddered violently.

[What kind of people are these???]