One Piece: Scourge of the Seas

In the underbelly of Snake Paths and Rat Roads, most made their living through intelligence.

The informants active in Mad Hat Town might not compare to the likes of the Marines or the Revolutionary Army in manipulating intelligence on a grand scale, but they still provided various conveniences.

To uncover the killer who had slain his crewmate, Lagren had no choice but to pay for their assistance.

This brought him to a man called Wolfrat, rumored to have a sense of smell sharper than any dog's.

The man in front of him now had a sharp brow, a slick tongue, and a chilling demeanor.

Lagren sat stiffly on the sofa, trying hard to calm himself.

The mere thought of how Wolfrat had snuck up behind him earlier without him realizing sent a chill down his spine.

This man had strength—yet he chose to wallow in the filth of this work.

Lagren couldn't understand it.

The moment they sat down, the stoic bartender arrived with two glasses of liquor before wordlessly retreating to the bar.

Wolfrat extended a slender, bony finger to toy with his glass, spinning it slowly.

Before Lagren could even state his purpose, Wolfrat spoke up:

"Lagren, officer of the Spiked Bull Pirates, correct? I heard about last night's little incident—not that it's anything big. So, you're here to hire me to find the killer?"

That Wolfrat had recognized him and guessed his intentions didn't surprise Lagren.

In this line of work, surviving without some skill was impossible.

What did catch him off guard was the power Wolfrat had displayed earlier.

"Yes."

Lagren cut to the chase, placing a bag of money on the table.

Wolfrat picked it up, weighed it in his hand, then untied it to peek inside.

His years of handling money allowed him to estimate the amount without counting.

"Shall I start now?"

He tucked the money away with a satisfied smirk and looked at Lagren.

"That's the idea."

Lagren nodded firmly.

Wolfrat chuckled, downing his drink in one gulp.

Lagren, however, didn't touch the glass the bartender had served.

The two stood and exited the bar, with Wolfrat leading the way.

Soon, they arrived at a bloodstained alley.

Wolfrat crouched to examine the dried blood. "I heard the victim was shot through twice—first in the side of the neck, where bullets penetrate more easily, then right through the forehead. Whoever did this is clearly a sniper—a real pro."

Lagren said nothing, his expression blank.

He had no interest in Wolfrat's analysis, but given the man's abilities, he held back from rushing him.

Unbothered by Lagren's mood, Wolfrat sneered, "You know, the hardest type of people to deal with are snipers—those who take a shot from the shadows, leaving you no chance to retaliate. But…"

His nose twitched, transforming into a long, narrow, black rat's snout.

"…their actions make my business thrive."

Sniffing the air, Wolfrat processed the myriad scents, distilling them into information.

From a thousand to a hundred, from a hundred to ten, from ten to one.

After quickly isolating the scent he wanted, Wolf Rat rose, glancing upward.

"Follow me."

With a burst of strength, he leaped onto a nearby building.

Lagren followed close behind.

So, he's a Zoan-type user—a Rat Rat Fruit ability, no doubt.

With such a skill, finding the sniper was practically guaranteed.

They hopped from rooftop to rooftop until they reached Maude's sniping position from the previous night.

Wolfrat scanned the area, his nose working to translate the scent into a visible trail, one that stretched far into the distance.

Following this invisible trail, Wolfrat headed toward Sol's Weaponry Shop.

Lagren stayed on his heels.

As they neared the shop, closing the distance to just twenty meters, Wolf Rat abruptly stopped.

"Did you find them?"

Lagren's eyes grew icy, assuming Wolfrat had located the target.

Wolfrat, however, didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked down at a spot in the alley below.

The scent trail had split—one path led directly to Sol's Weapons Shop, while the other extended from the shop to this very alley.

But this wasn't what made him pause.

Even with the split trail, the final destination remained the shop. It wouldn't affect the search's outcome.

The real issue lay elsewhere.

Wolfrat gazed at the shop's partially visible storefront, his expression grave.

"Though this scent doesn't belong to the old man there, it's definitely tied to him," he muttered under his breath.

Lagren, growing impatient, frowned. "Did you find them or not?"

"I found them," Wolfrat replied, turning to Lagren, "but if you care about my advice, you might want to drop this."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing much. Just a little free suggestion."

Lagren snorted coldly. "I don't need your concern. Just take me to the target—that's your job."

Wolfrat shrugged, saying no more.

Following the scent trail, he led Lagren to the entrance of Sol's Weaponry Shop.

"The perpetrator is inside. Beyond this point, it's not my problem."

"Wolfrat, our deal was for you to locate the target—not just point at a building."

Lagren's tone grew sharp as he realized Wolfrat was about to bow out.

Wolfrat cast an uneasy glance at the shop's door before sneering at Lagren.

"Fine. The shopkeeper is an old man, and the clerk is a scar-faced woman."

"Which one's the killer?"

"Neither."

Lagren clenched his fists, restraining the urge to draw his blade.

Wolfrat spread his hands. "The culprit isn't the old man or the woman, but there's a third person in that shop. Got it?"

Lagren huffed.

He didn't understand why Wolfrat wouldn't simply name the third person, but at least the target's location was confirmed.

Unbeknownst to Lagren, Wolfrat hadn't named the third person because he had no idea who they were.

The weaponry shop was one of the few places Wolfrat avoided at all costs. If he'd known the killer was connected to it, he'd never have taken the job.

But now that he'd accepted the money, he had no choice but to see it through.

Still, even the mention of Sol and Sunny made him nervous. All he could do was hint at the third person's existence using the scent as his excuse.

With the job done, Wolfrat wasted no time returning to the bar.

Lagren watched him leave, then turned to the shop's slightly ajar door.

After a moment's thought, Lagren walked away.

That evening, a shifty-eyed customer entered Sol's Weaponry Shop.

He immediately headed to one of the three shelves, pretending to inspect the weapons while sneaking glances at the shop's three occupants.

A diminutive old man.

A scar-faced young woman.

And a rather handsome young man.

Got it.

The customer made his choice and pulled a chipped, second-hand machete from the third shelf. It wasn't much to look at.

"How much?"

"Fifty thousand berries," Sol replied without lifting his head.

The man had expected the blade to cost no more than ten thousand. Hearing the standard price, he cursed the shop under his breath but still paid without hesitation.

After leaving, Sol finally looked up at the door.

"Hmm…"

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