One Piece: Scourge of the Seas

Death was a common occurrence in Mad Hat Town, happening almost daily.

But Lagren's death was anything but ordinary.

The unusual part was that no one within a hundred meters of the scene had heard a gunshot.

Even more chilling than the lack of a gunshot was the bullet itself—it had pierced through a wooden wall before striking Lagren.

Setting aside the force behind the shot, this meant the shooter wasn't aiming directly at Lagren. It seemed as if someone had fired casually—and Lagren had the misfortune of being in the bullet's path.

The pirates around Lagren, once they pieced together what had happened, broke out in a cold sweat.

After their initial fright, they cursed a few times, then resumed drinking and chatting as though nothing had happened.

The night passed uneventfully.

Nightshade Bar.

Inside the bar, Wolfrat sat despondently at the counter, looking like he had lost the will to live.

Staring at the stoic bartender in front of him, he lamented, "Tatam, I'm finished. Before I die, I want you to inherit my wealth. It'd be a shame to let all that hard-earned money go to waste."

Tatam, a hulking figure with the build of a bear, paused briefly in his robotic task of wiping glasses, then resumed without a word.

Seeing no reaction, Wolfrat's expression darkened. "I'm not joking! That damned Lagren—if he wanted to die, why did he have to drag me down with him?"

Tatam remained silent, his hands methodically polishing a glass, but his eyes focused intently on Wolfrat.

He realized Wolfrat wasn't joking.

"Not an accident?" Tatam's voice, incongruously high and delicate like a young girl's, clashed sharply with his bear-like physique.

He was referring to the shot that killed Lagren.

"It wasn't."

Wolfrat, long accustomed to Tatam's mismatched voice, ignored it.

Staring into his drink, his voice carried a palpable tremor of fear. "I'm certain that bullet was meant for Lagren."

Tatam's eyes flickered with a hint of alarm.

Wolfrat sighed. "Can you imagine living under the shadow of a bullet that's ready to take your life at any moment? For all I know, the moment I step outside, I'll be shot in the head."

"My condolences," Tatam replied curtly.

"Ugh." Wolfrat grew increasingly despondent. "The only thing I can't let go of is the money I haven't spent yet. After deducting the storage fees, there should still be enough to buy a few bottles of good liquor. I've thought it through—I'll leave it to you, Tatam."

"No thanks. Too little."

Tatam set down the glass, poured himself half a cup of liquor, and raised it in a toast to Wolfrat.

"Farewell."

With that, he downed the drink in one go.

Wolfrat nodded, silently finishing his own drink.

"The only way to conquer fear is to face it. Goodbye, Tatam!"

Setting down his glass, Wolfrat stood abruptly, his face set in grim determination as he strode toward the bar's entrance.

He pushed open the door and stepped outside.

Seconds later—

Bang!

A gunshot rang out from the street.

"What the—!" Wolfrat's voice erupted into a universal expletive of shock, echoing clearly back into the bar.

Tatam's eyes narrowed as he stared at the now-empty doorway, bowing his head slightly in a brief moment of silence for Wolfrat.

Moments later, Wolfrat's maniacal laughter filled the alley.

"Ha… ha ha… I'm... alive! I'm alive! Ha ha... hahaha!"

Inside the bar, Tatam twitched slightly at the sound of Wolfrat's laughter. He glanced at his glass, then at the shelf of rare spirits nearby.

"Wasteful."

Two days passed, and Red and Lagren's death caused barely a ripple. The town remained calm.

Maude thought he'd concealed himself well, unaware that Mad Hat Town harbored informants like Wolfrat, who operated on sheer unpredictability.

Unbeknownst to Maude, Sol, after taking him on as a protégé, had casually eliminated one of his potential threats.

Otherwise, with Lagren's cautious and devious nature, Maude might have faced a deadly ambush.

Still oblivious to all of this, Maude settled his nerves and prepared for his next hunt.

Late night.

Maude readied himself under the cover of darkness.

Before heading out, he checked his equipment: two flintlock pistols and a well-made dagger.

These were items he'd requested from Sol.

Before their relationship was formalized, asking Sol for weapons had been nearly impossible. But once Sol accepted him as a disciple, acquiring gear became remarkably straightforward.

After ensuring everything was in order, Maude slipped out of the weapon shop. Moving like an agile monkey, he climbed onto a rooftop and crouched low, heading toward the building where his prey was located.

With his enhanced physique, leaping and climbing posed no difficulty.

This time, emboldened by his improved abilities, Maude planned to assassinate his target with the dagger.

This method would reduce the risk of exposure, and the two flintlock pistols would serve as backups to minimize errors.

Under the cover of night, Maude successfully infiltrated the building where his prey resided.

Stealthily approaching the door, he could hear the sound of snoring from within.

Pausing for a moment, Maude slowly pushed the door open.

In the faint light, he scanned the room.

On a bed not far from the window—

"Two of them again…" Maude murmured to himself, slightly surprised.

He crept to the bedside, the mingling stench of sweat and alcohol assaulting his senses.

Frowning slightly, he waited for his eyes to fully adjust to the darkness.

What he saw made him freeze momentarily.

Silently drawing his dagger, he averted his gaze from the sight before him, a thought crossing his mind.

"It'd be a shame to waste this opportunity."

Steeling himself, Maude plunged the dagger into the back of one target twice, then swiftly flipped his wrist to cut the target's throat in a clean vertical motion.

The three strikes were quick and precise—a stark contrast to the clumsiness he'd shown when stabbing Watt.

The first man's eyes shot open in shock. He managed a few gasping sounds before falling silent.

Moving swiftly, Maude grabbed the second man by the throat with his left hand while stabbing him three times in the abdomen with his right.

The second man awoke with a start, thrashing violently.

But Maude, now significantly stronger, used the element of surprise and his physical advantage to pin the man down.

Seizing the moment, Maude forced the man to look at the lifeless body of his companion.

"Care to talk?" Maude's icy voice was as sharp as the blade in his hand.

Minutes later, Maude exited the building.

The black cover of his Hunter's Notebook now bore two new stars.

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