Chapter Sixty-Seven: Seethe with Hatred, Mod

After two months, he saw the light of day again.

Stepping out of the weapons shop, whether it was the thrill of freedom or the relief of a heavy burden finally lifted, Maud felt completely at ease. Even the “rat stench” of the alley no longer seemed so sharp to his nose.

“How comfortable,” he murmured.

Maud raised his head to the sunlight slanting toward the eaves, gently stretching his legs. He felt as light as a swallow in flight.

Looking ahead, the narrow alley was a cluttered maze, littered with garbage. The walls on both sides were stacked with dust-caked wooden crates, exuding a musty odor.

“Maybe I’ll go for a little run.”

Maud hopped in place a few times, then suddenly dashed forward, stirring up a gust of wind that sent the rubbish swirling through the air.

He paid no mind to anything else, weaving swiftly through the labyrinthine alleyways. Whenever he passed by people, he left behind nothing but wide-eyed, gaping faces. None of them had even managed to see his features clearly; by the time they reacted, all that remained was the debris raining down from midair.

Nightshade Bar.

As a discreet hub for trading information, business was as slow as ever.

At the bar, only one regular patron sat—Ratwolf.

Behind the counter, Tatamu, dressed in his usual bartender’s uniform, was polishing glasses.

Creak—

Maud pushed the door open and stepped inside.

At the sound, both Tatamu and Ratwolf immediately looked toward the entrance.

Both were intelligence dealers, though of different kinds. So, each person who entered could be a future client.

To their surprise, the visitor was Maud, absent these past two months.

“Hey, long time no see.”

Maud strolled in and greeted them both.

Tatamu looked a bit surprised, then smiled. “Welcome.”

Ratwolf quickly hid the trace of wariness he felt toward Maud, adopting the manner of someone greeting an old friend.

“Usopp! Where have you been all this time?!”

Ratwolf hopped off his stool and strode excitedly toward Maud, arms wide, as if he meant to give him a great bear hug.

“Nowhere in particular. It’s a long story,” Maud replied, sidestepping the embrace and heading straight for the bar.

Ratwolf, unbothered by the missed hug, simply lowered his arms and sat down beside Maud.

“Come on, tell us. Tatamu and I have nothing better to do anyway.”

“Ah, it’s a long tale,” Maud sighed, holding up a finger to Tatamu in a gesture for a drink.

Ratwolf leaned in, all ears. “No rush, you can take your time.”

Perhaps this would be the first time he’d hear anything about the weapons shop from Maud’s own lips. Ratwolf couldn’t help feeling a little tense.

Maud, however, said, “It’s too long—let’s just skip it.”

“Heh… hehe…” Ratwolf’s smile twitched.

Maud ignored Ratwolf’s reaction and asked Tatamu for the wanted posters from the drawer.

Tatamu paused his mixing, opened the drawer, and handed a stack of wanted posters to Maud.

Maud took them and began to pore over them earnestly.

Seeing Maud’s serious focus, Ratwolf didn’t dare interrupt and instead sipped his drink in silence.

On the fifth day after the Spiked Bull Pirates were wiped out, he’d received intel from Gyoko about Maud’s true identity—not only Maud’s real name and origins, but also the mastermind behind the attack on the Bacardi merchant ship.

After all, the Navy’s intelligence divisions weren’t there just for show. With targeted investigation, anything worth uncovering had been unearthed.

What was truly astonishing at the time wasn’t that the mastermind was Capone of the Mob, but that Maud had survived at all.

“Bacardi Maud.”

Ratwolf took a sip, reciting the name silently in his heart.

And the man with that name was sitting right beside him—close enough to touch.

As for the name Usopp, still remembered by the pirates of Mad Hatter Town… well, Ratwolf had no time to bother correcting it to the real one. False names were common here, used by anyone who didn’t crave notoriety—including himself.

“How can I quietly set Maud and the Mob at each other’s throats?”

From Gyoko, Ratwolf had not only received intel, but also orders: put Maud on a collision course with the Mob in order to further test the stance of the Ghost Gun. This would be the final trial.

As he pondered, Ratwolf glanced at the array of bottles behind the bar, his gaze eventually settling on a bottle of Bacardi white rum.

There it was…

He glanced at Maud, who was still absorbed in the wanted posters, and at the drink Tatamu had just prepared.

Now wasn’t the right time to mention that bottle of rum. He’d have to wait until Maud’s attention strayed from the posters and his glass was empty.

With that, Ratwolf waited patiently for the opportunity.

Maud studied the wanted posters, sipping the drink Tatamu had poured for him.

Some ten minutes later, he reached the last poster and his glass was nearly empty.

Seeing this, Ratwolf suddenly spoke up, “Tatamu, I suddenly feel like a glass of Bacardi white rum. Pour me one, will you?”

“Sure.”

Tatamu turned, took the bottle from the shelf, and poured Ratwolf a glass, filling it nearly to the brim.

The crystalline spirit trickled into the glass with a pleasant sound, and the bar was suffused with the rich aroma of strong liquor.

Maud couldn’t help but glance at the bottle in Tatamu’s hand.

Bacardi…

His expression shifted slightly.

Ratwolf caught Maud’s reaction and promptly recommended, “Usopp, this Bacardi white rum is something special—want a glass?”

Maud nodded.

Tatamu obliged, pouring another for Maud before setting the bottle aside.

Ratwolf lifted his glass, took a long sip, and let out a satisfied sigh, his face full of emotion.

“This brand of white rum used to be exclusive to the Bacardi Trading Company just a few months ago. You’d never see it anywhere else. But now? You find it everywhere, in nearly every market.”

Maud’s face betrayed nothing.

Ratwolf went on, “Actually, if we can drink it here, we have Capone of the Mob to thank.”

“Capone?” Maud’s eyes narrowed at the familiar name.

Ratwolf glanced at Maud and continued smoothly, “That’s right. The Mob wanted to expand their bootlegging business, so they not only attacked Bacardi’s merchant ships, but after taking over, they wiped out every last Bacardi. Afterwards, the Mob took over the business and released a lot of the stock. This rum is one of those products.”

Saying this, Ratwolf pretended to take another drink while observing Maud’s reaction.

Maud merely fell into silent thought, not displaying the anger Ratwolf had hoped for.

Ratwolf wasn’t surprised. He’d witnessed Maud’s maddening composure before.

But there was still some reaction, at least.

Hate him, Maud. Then go make trouble for Capone.

Ratwolf thought to himself.

But he didn’t know that Maud felt no such hatred at all.

The only reason Maud was lost in thought was that he was considering the possibility of hunting Capone. Even if he was using this identity, if he had the power and confidence, he wouldn’t mind avenging his predecessor in passing.

As for the mess left behind? He had no intention of dealing with it.

Those memories that could have affected him had already been locked away in a corner of his mind.