The Hunter of Pirates

Red-Haired Shanks...

One of the Four Emperors reigning like a monarch over the New World.

No matter how much Mobin racked his brain, he couldn't fathom why such a prominent figure would visit this run-down shop.

Caught off guard, Mobin failed to respond to Shanks immediately.

Shanks, accustomed to reactions like Mobin's, didn't mind. Instead, he turned to look at Sunny behind the counter and waved cheerfully.

"Yo, Little Sunny, long time no see!"

"L-long time no see..."

"Why did you cut your hair?"

"Well, uh, Sol said my hair was too long, and washing it wasted water, so he made me cut it."

Sunny avoided eye contact, her heart beating slightly faster, casually throwing out a flimsy excuse.

[At this moment, Sol, carrying a bag of leftovers, was leisurely strolling through the streets. Suddenly, he sneezed violently, wiped his nose with his hand, and after a moment's thought, felt an ominous premonition. Without hesitation, he quickened his pace.]

In the shop, Shanks chuckled softly. "Sol is as frugal as ever, huh?"

"Uh, so, why have you come this time...?"

Sunny quickly changed the topic, inquiring about Shanks' purpose.

"The usual—I came to get some good hometown wine."

Shanks laughed heartily as he walked past Mobin to the counter.

Mobin, finally coming to his senses, looked at Shanks' back.

That was a close one; he'd nearly been rude.

Fortunately, Shanks' personality was unlike other Emperors...

The curly-haired man, Yasopp, glanced at Mobin out of the corner of his eye, then, along with the meat-wielding Lucky Roux, followed Shanks to the counter.

Mobin silently observed their retreating figures, suppressing his emotions. He casually closed the door and then stepped aside to watch the conversation between Shanks and Sunny.

From their discussion, it was clear Shanks was a regular customer.

The most baffling thing, however, was that Shanks had come to the shop not for weapons but for wine.

Wait... did the shop even sell wine?

Mobin's thoughts turned to the basement entrance beneath the staircase.

Could it be a wine cellar down there...?

Behind the counter, Sunny, who was typically poised, seemed slightly flustered.

But when Shanks mentioned his intention to buy wine, she remembered Sol's stern, heartfelt instructions and immediately stood her ground as a member of Sol's Weapons Shop.

She lifted her chin and met Shanks' gaze, her voice firm.

"After you cleared out the wine last time, Sol gave explicit orders: sell to anyone, but never to you again."

"What?"

Shanks, startled, turned to Lucky Roux in confusion. "Did we forget to pay last time?"

"We paid," Lucky Roux replied, "but we also took two barrels Sol had reserved for himself."

"..."

Shanks was silent for a moment before sighing. "So that happened, huh?"

After his brief reflection, Shanks leaned closer to Sunny and lowered his voice. "Is Sol home?"

Sunny replied honestly, "He's not."

"Well then, that makes things easier."

Shanks' face took on a serious expression.

"You...!" Sunny's eyes widened.

Before Sunny could say anything further, Lucky Roux had already placed payment on the counter and nonchalantly headed toward the basement stairs.

Watching Lucky Roux walk toward the wine cellar, Sunny instinctively moved to stop him.

Thud.

A light sound came from the counter.

Sunny looked over to see Yasopp, who, during their conversation, had taken two guns—a long-barreled flintlock and a short-barreled one—from the shelf and placed them on the counter.

"Little Sunny, how much for these two guns?"

Yasopp leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the counter.

The timing of his inquiry was strangely deliberate, but his expression showed he was genuinely interested in purchasing the guns.

Sunny glanced at Lucky Roux's retreating figure and then at the two guns on the counter. She sighed internally and, with a deadpan expression, reported the prices: "120,000 Beli for the flintlock and 380,000 Beli for the short-barreled one."

At this point, Lucky Roux had vanished from sight, likely already in the wine cellar.

"Whistle—"

Hearing the prices, Yasopp whistled but didn't argue. He simply reached for his money.

Shanks looked at the flintlock slung over Yasopp's back. "Just like that? Maybe Sol could fix it."

Yasopp scoffed. "Boss, are you planning to wait here for Sol to come back?"

"Haha," Shanks laughed casually. "No big deal; we can just take the wine and come back later."

"..."

Yasopp fell silent, shaking his head. "Never mind, let's call it quits. As my old partner, it's done its best."

With that, he removed the flintlock from his back and placed it on the counter.

The gun was Yasopp's first companion, brought with him from his village. Over the years, it had borne the brunt of many battles but was finally succumbing to the ravages of time.

Despite his efforts to preserve it with Haki, it was too late—especially since his expertise lay in Observation Haki, not Armament Haki.

Sunny glanced at the weathered flintlock and declared flatly, "Sorry, we don't accept second-hand guns, especially broken ones!"

When she said broken, her tone was particularly pointed.

"It's not broken, just aged," Yasopp replied, clearly sensing the hostility.

"Aged or not, we won't take it!"

"..."

"Haha!" Shanks laughed cheerfully.

Yasopp shook his head. "Fine, leave it with Sol. Maybe he'll get inspired someday and transfer its heart to another gun. At least it'll live on in a way."

"Actually, you have another option," Mobin suddenly chimed in.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Meeting their gazes, Mobin, now fully composed, spoke seriously.

"Give it to me, and I'll carry it for another journey."