One Piece: Scourge of the Seas

Using the excuse of needing the restroom, Maude successfully slipped away.

After entering the bathroom, he locked the door behind him without hesitation.

[Hunter's Notebook]

A notebook, as black as obsidian and exuding an air of mystery, appeared out of thin air.

The black feather quill embedded in the spine trembled slightly, as if eager for Maude's command.

When he first conceived his ability, Maude had envisioned the pen as a sleek black fountain pen. However, creating such an intricate item would have increased the difficulty of developing his powers.

To reduce the strain on other aspects of his abilities, he settled for the simpler yet more archaic quill.

Plucking the quill from the spine, Maude wrote the characters for "Physical Condition" neatly along the first silver line.

Physical conditioning was his top priority—this much was a given.

Only by enhancing his physique could he hope to pursue greater ambitions.

In the world of One Piece, a strong body was the foundation of survival and strength.

Dreams of obtaining a physique as monstrous as Big Mom's or Kaido's were far beyond his current reach.

After writing down his need, Maude turned to the first page of the notebook.

It was blank, as pristine as fresh snow.

For a fleeting moment, Maude thought he saw rows of illegible, crooked writing scrawled across the page. But with a blink, the words vanished like a mirage.

"Let's start over..." he murmured softly.

It felt as if his previous life had been wiped clean, and now he was beginning anew, like creating a fresh account in a new game server.

Despite the reset, he had his advantages.

Focusing his thoughts, Maude began swiftly jotting down the details of his target—Evan Watt—into the notebook.

[Evan Watt]

[Proficient in Swordsmanship]

The information was embarrassingly sparse, having been gathered from snippets overheard from Sunny.

Still, even scraps of information were better than none.

Given his body's current frailty, any marginal improvement would likely yield noticeable effects.

With a sense of accomplishment, Maude closed the Hunter's Notebook slowly, almost ceremoniously.

"Thank you, Evan Watt, for your contribution," he muttered under his breath.

"And thanks to Kid for bringing him here."

The notebook vanished as Maude dismissed it, leaving only his reflection in the mirror.

Touching the blood-soaked bandage on his forehead lightly, he winced as a sharp pang of pain reminded him of his injuries.

If the Hunter's Notebook worked as expected, the wound's healing progress should improve significantly after the hunt.

Unfortunately, Watt wasn't specialized in physical combat techniques, limiting the benefits Maude could extract.

"Let's get to it," he whispered to himself.

Grabbing the small knife from the sink, he stepped out of the bathroom.

In the shop, Sol and Sunny were waiting, though it had only been a few minutes.

Knife in hand, Maude approached the unconscious Watt.

Under Sol and Sunny's watchful eyes, he didn't hesitate. Kneeling beside Watt, he thrust the knife toward the pirate's heart with all his might.

Splurt—

Blood splattered across Maude's hand.

Embarrassingly, the knife only went halfway in and nearly slipped from his grip.

Sol raised an eyebrow.

Sunny lowered her gaze.

"Damn it," Maude cursed internally.

But given the physical resilience of people in this world—and his own weakened state—he wasn't entirely surprised.

Without pause, Maude withdrew the knife and delivered a few more precise stabs. Watt died quickly in his unconscious state.

The process, from start to finish, was as effortless as slaughtering a chicken.

After all, this wasn't Maude's first time doing such a thing.

In his previous life, the Hunter's Notebook had recorded nearly a thousand names of those he had executed. Most were criminals sentenced to death, whose lives he ended in his role at a penal institution.

Back then, it was as simple as pressing a switch to administer a lethal injection—quick and convenient.

This ease of execution led Maude to spend a prolonged period working in the institution, though it left him with little experience in direct combat.

Strictly speaking, Maude wasn't a combat-oriented hunter.

As the number of executions increased, he developed a certain indifference toward life—or more accurately, the lives of criminals.

In Maude's eyes, the pirates of this world were no different from the felons he had once dealt with. Killing them felt as trivial as squashing an ant.

Reflecting on the penal institutions in the One Piece world, Maude could only think of Impel Down.

However, this world's justice system seemed more humane.

Even criminals who deserved dozens of death sentences were merely imprisoned.

This might be to prevent Devil Fruits from circulating back into the world, though only a fraction of inmates were Devil Fruit users.

Regardless, Maude believed his abilities made him well-suited for the Marines.

Unfortunately, awakening in such a chaotic place made joining the Marines an unlikely prospect.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Maude released his grip on the knife and stood up, closing his eyes.

In the darkness behind his lids, the Hunter's Notebook floated, glowing faintly like a solar eclipse.

The light's edges gradually dimmed, seeping into the notebook.

A tiny white star appeared on the black cover.

The glow disappeared, and darkness returned.

In those brief moments, a hint of color returned to Maude's pale face.

Opening his eyes, he felt an itch on his forehead where the wound was healing.

The fatigue that made him feel like he'd collapse in a strong wind had noticeably diminished.

These subtle changes were a testament to the notebook's effectiveness.

While the benefits weren't visibly evident—like increased muscle mass—this was expected given the meager information he had on Watt.

But it didn't matter—the Hunter's Notebook worked.

Excitement sparkled in Maude's eyes.

Sol and Sunny, having observed the entire process, didn't seem fazed by Maude's reaction.

To them, it was only natural for someone who had suffered so much at the hands of pirates to lash out.

Sol, however, didn't want the shop's newest worker to spiral into extremism.

He crouched by the body, pulled out the knife, and wiped it clean on Watt's clothes.

"Don't get too worked up," he said casually. "I want you to let go of the past—not lose yourself in it."

"I understand," Maude replied, bowing his head.

For now, his focus was on surviving.

"Go wash your hands," Sol ordered, glancing at the blood-stained mess.

"Sunny, call Arthur to clean this up."

"On it."

Sunny left, while Maude returned to the bathroom to scrub the blood from his hands.

As he washed, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, gently pressing his wound.

The pain from earlier was gone—a promising sign.

Taking a deep breath, Maude relaxed slightly.

This first hunt gave him a glimmer of confidence, though his path forward remained treacherous.

"Mad Hat Town..." he murmured.

"A dangerous place, but also a hunter's paradise."

Slowly, he walked back into the shop.

A burly man in worker's attire now stood inside, his left arm bearing a black armband with the word "Death" written on it, and a white mask obscuring his face.

Maude guessed this was Arthur, the cleaner Sunny had fetched.

Arthur, examining the body, turned to Maude and spoke.

"Oh, you're awake. Impressive."

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