"Huff... If I talk, will you spare my life?"
"What I'm holding is a scalpel. What's it for? Performing surgery. Keep talking nonsense, and I'll remove both your balls. Believe me?"
The man gulped, his face twisted in terror—this kid was a devil.
"I'll talk! I'll talk! I'm the fifth squad leader of the Usury Syndicate. We're part of the Slave Hunter Company. My boss is Razor Hand Jackx, and we serve under the King of the Underworld, the Loan Shark King Lu Feld!"
At this point, the man glared at Moses as if suddenly emboldened: "Listen here, you'd better let me go, or else we'll—AAAAAH!!!"
Moses' scalpel glided effortlessly across his left eye, the slight elasticity of the flesh distinctly palpable.
Disgusting.
Next, the scalpel pierced the philtrum above his upper lip. The excruciating pain shot straight to his brain, jolting him awake instantly.
"Keep talking. Since you're part of a human trafficking ring, where do you sell your victims?"
Tears of pain welled in his right eye as he trembled, staring at the scalpel embedded in his philtrum. His voice quivered:
"The... the ship. Our Slave Hunter Ship is docked at the port. We just pulled off several big deals and planned to grab a few more before heading to Sabaody Archipelago to auction them at headquarters."
"How many people are aboard? What weapons do you have? Describe the ship. When do you leave?"
"Fifty crew members. Captain Jackx leads five squads—nine men per squad. I'm from Squad Five. Aside from the captain, three cooks, and the navigator, that's everyone.
We set sail at 6 AM tomorrow if nothing goes wrong. Weapons are knives, guns, swords. The ship's a large three-masted vessel with a black flag bearing the Blood-colored Razor emblem.
Oh, and our captain... he's a legendary Devil Fruit User. A Blade Human. Really dangerous..."
Moses silently watched as the man spilled everything like beans from a sack. Then he slowly stood up, pulling out the scalpel mid-motion. Before the man could feel relief, Moses kicked him in the neck, slamming his head into the ground and knocking him unconscious.
Once again, Moses hadn't killed anyone.
Turning to Bogart, who stood in stony silence, Moses said coolly:
"Human traffickers, huh? Quite the ship. And so many abducted people. Any thoughts, Mr. Late-Arriving Marine Colonel?"
Bogart's eye twitched. Where did this brat learn such infuriating sarcasm? It was unbearable. Even Vice Admiral Garp wasn't this annoying.
"I'll report this to Vice Admiral Garp immediately."
Moses nodded. "Makes sense. After all, there's a Devil Fruit User involved—a Blade Human, no less. Can't blame you for being outmatched, Uncle Bogart. But Grandpa's a vice admiral, so he should handle it easily."
This was a lie.
Moses wouldn't pretend to know everything.
Bogart's lips trembled with rage.
In the first half of the Grand Line—this so-called "Paradise"—he feared no one except the true monsters. Even if that fat bastard Lu Feld showed up, he wouldn't flinch.
One slash would settle it.
And then—
"Grandpa's on vacation and definitely can't be bothered to work. Uncle, want to earn some extra cash? Let's capture them together. There's bound to be treasure on that Slave Hunter Ship—should make a decent profit. That way, you'll have savings when you want to marry one of Vice Admiral Tsuru's female soldiers later."
Bogart stared expressionlessly at Moses, but he had to admit it was a tempting side hustle. Of course, rescuing the innocent took priority. Now that they knew about this, they couldn't just turn a blind eye.
Just as he was about to speak, Moses added:
"Wait—uncle, are you actually capable? Can you handle that Devil Fruit User? Wouldn't want us to end up adding to their profits instead. I'm still young, not keen on becoming someone's slave."
Bogart laughed in exasperation, gritting his teeth as he looked at Moses. "If it were someone of your grandfather's caliber, I'd turn us around without a second thought. But do you really think some underground vermin working for a loan shark could compare to your grandpa or a Navy Vice Admiral?"
Moses grinned.
"Deal then. We'll split the profits fifty-fifty—no, forty-thirty-thirty. You take forty, and Grandpa and I get thirty each. Sound fair?"
Bogart: "Reasoning."
"I lured these guys out, I took them down, and I got the intel through interrogation. Plus, I'll be fighting later to protect the victims. Thirty percent isn't unreasonable, right?"
Bogart nodded, signaling Moses to continue.
"You'll be the main fighter—the Devil Fruit User and the strong ones from the slave-hunting crew are all yours. You're taking the most dangerous role, so you get forty percent. The remaining thirty goes to Vice Admiral Garp as insurance. If that so-called 'Loan Shark King' comes looking for trouble later, Grandpa can handle it."
"How about it?"
Bogart gave Moses a complicated look, impressed by how thorough his plan was. "You're a shrewd little brat. Fine."
Moses beamed and immediately handed Bogart a small portion of the Belly he'd just looted.
"Here's your forty percent. Since you're in, this prep work counts as your share too."
Bogart stared at Moses for a moment before chuckling wryly. "You're really meticulous, kid."
"Clear accounts make good partners. We agreed on the split, so we stick to it."
Bogart took the money.
Glancing at the still-groaning traffickers, he walked over and kicked each one. The sound of cracking bones followed as they fell into deep unconsciousness.
"Tch. Consider this my contribution—not freeloading."
Moses's eyes widened slightly, his expression one of newfound understanding.
Bogart's face reddened slightly under the scrutiny.
The two promptly left the alley, heading straight for the harbor.
...
Harbor.
Even in the dimming light,
the place bustled with activity.
Both possessed Observation Haki, their sensing range vast. The harbor wasn't particularly large, so within a few breaths, they'd mapped out everything within their perception.
A slave ship would have numerous living presences. Following that logic, they discreetly searched.
They focused on ships with dense clusters of life signals.
Though the harbor wasn't expansive, it was a tourist hotspot with densely packed vessels, making the search tricky.
Halfway there,
Moses asked, "By the way, I heard some Observation Haki users can sense emotions—like fear. Can you do that, uncle?"
Bogart was taken aback for a moment before quickly regaining his composure, his face darkening. "That's an extremely rare trait. Very few people awaken it, so no, I can't."
As soon as he finished speaking, as if in retaliation, Bogart said flatly, "What about you? Can you sense emotions?"
Moses was exasperated.
He rolled his eyes at Bogart, looking at him as if he were an idiot.
"If I could sense them, why would I be asking you? We'd have already charged straight to the Slave Hunter Ship by now."
They searched through the ships one by one.
Since they knew what the ship looked like, within a dozen minutes, they found it in a secluded corner—a three-masted schooner with the black flag of the Blood-colored Razor, its deck teeming with chaotic auras.
At that moment, both of them knew: this was their target.
Bogart grabbed Moses' hand, and the two of them slipped past the Slave Hunter Ship, casually glancing at the rowdy sailors on the opposite deck who were eating meat, chatting, and shouting.
A few minutes later, they reached a secluded corner.
Moses looked up at Bogart. "Well? Why don't you just pull out your big sword, charge in, and slash them all down in a few strokes?"
Bogart sighed. "We don't know the condition of the victims inside yet. If we rush in recklessly and they take hostages, what then?"
"You could just charge in, cut down a couple, then roar, 'I'm a pirate! Hand over your treasure and I'll spare your lives!' Who'd even think to threaten a pirate with hostages?"
Bogart sighed again. "Better safe than sorry. I'm a marine—I can't just stand by if lives are at stake. Even if I'm confident, no one can guarantee there won't be any accidents."
"Then what do you want to do?" Moses was at a loss for words. "Should I just walk up and turn myself in? Let them throw me into the slave hold, then use my Observation Haki to sense things and report back to you? I could even protect the hostages, so you wouldn't have to worry at all."
Bogart's eyes suddenly lit up as he sized up Moses—fair-skinned, cute, and most importantly, small, barely a meter tall. No one would suspect a kid like that.
Moses felt unnerved under Bogart's gaze. "Uh-oh, you're not actually—"
Smack! Bogart clapped his hands heavily on Moses' shoulders, making him wince in pain. "Moses, you're a genius!" Bogart exclaimed excitedly. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you. This plan is perfect!"
"I have every reason to believe you're taking revenge on me. That ship has a Devil Fruit user on board. Sure, I sympathize with the victims, but I don't want to risk my life for strangers."
Bogart sighed. "I know this puts you in danger, but I promise—if you're ever at risk, I'll save you immediately. Your safety comes first. Trust me."
Moses met Bogart's resolute gaze and sighed. "Fine, you win. I'll do it."
He shrugged off Bogart's hands, rubbed his cheeks vigorously, and took a deep breath, relaxing his entire body.
He handed his shoulder bag to Bogart, then skipped off like any normal boy his age.
Bogart was stunned for a moment, his lips twitching before he finally managed to mutter after a few seconds, "This kid's got some skills."
Noted.
...
Watching the sailors on the ship laughing and cursing, Moses cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Hey!!! Uncles, is this a passenger ship?"
Hearing the voice, one of the men on board cautiously approached the railing and looked down, spotting Moses below. He narrowed his eyes, "Kid, where are your parents?"
Tears welled up in Moses' eyes as he sniffled, "Wuwu... My uncle was killed by pirates. I barely escaped. I just want to go back to Water City. I have money—can you take me there?"
As he spoke, he pulled out a stack of Belly from his pocket—the loot from earlier—and said pitifully, "This is all I have. Is it enough? If not, my grandpa can pay the rest when I get home."
As if afraid they wouldn't believe him, Moses quickly added, "My grandpa is really powerful. He's a high-ranking official. Please, I'm begging you."
The men on the ship exchanged glances, but a fat sheep in hand was not something they'd let go—especially since the place was remote and deserted.
One of them immediately grinned, "Poor little thing. Alright, uncle will help you."
Lowering a rope ladder, the man climbed down, ruffled Moses' hair, then hoisted him onto his hip and swiftly carried him up to the deck.
Once on board, Moses noticed the men subtly scanning their surroundings. After about ten seconds, the one who had carried him up chuckled, "It's late, kid. You must be tired. Uncle will take you to rest. We'll reach Water City by noon tomorrow."
As he spoke, he smoothly plucked the Belly from Moses' hand, flicked the bills, and smirked, "Kid, this isn't enough for the fare. Make sure your grandpa pays the rest later."
"Okay!"
Greedy bastard.
Under the envious gazes of the others, the man stuffed the Belly into his pocket and led Moses into the cabin.
Just a kid—no one would come looking anyway.
As he was led along, Moses curiously examined the ship's layout—nothing special. Walking down the corridor, he asked, "Uncle, when do we set off?"
"Uncle?"
The man ignored him, continuing forward until they reached the end of the corridor near the stern, where a staircase descended to a lower level.
"Uncle?" Moses called again.
At the stairway, the man frowned and glared down at him, snarling, "Shut up, or I'll gut you."
Moses pretended to be terrified, "Y-you're a bad guy!"
The man's expression darkened further, and Moses immediately clamped his mouth shut, tears welling in his eyes as he shrank back.
The man smirked, dragging Moses downstairs. Moments later, he pushed open an iron door, revealing a spacious hold-turned-dungeon.
A central aisle ran between rows of sturdy iron-barred cages on either side. Each cage held varying numbers of "merchandise"—mostly children and women, along with some strange-looking races.
At the moment, three guards were stationed in the dungeon—one fat and two thin. The fat one grinned cruelly at the newcomers, "Shirley, isn't today your second team's turn to scout for prey?"
Shirley curled her lips into a strange smile. "A dumb deer, a fat sheep, walked right into our hands."
The fat man licked his lips, staring at the pale and clean Moses with a creepy grin.
Shirley frowned, glanced at the trembling Moses, and coldly said to the fat man:
"This is premium goods, Judge. Don't be stupid. If you damage it and the boss finds out, he'll skin you alive."
As if remembering something, Judge shuddered and forced a laugh. "Got it, got it. Just looking, just looking."
Shirley nodded, picked up a keychain from the table, scanned the rows of cells, and after a few seconds, dragged Moses to a corner cell housing only three people.
Moses looked at the three girls inside—all disheveled, with different hair colors: black, green, and orange, all around ten years old.
When Shirley approached, the black-haired girl inside spread her arms, shielding the other two behind her as she stepped back, like a mother bird with ruffled feathers.
Opening the cell door, Shirley grabbed Moses by the arm and threw him inside, saying coldly, "You'll sleep here tonight. You'll be out in a couple of days. Behave."
Moses crashed heavily into the black-haired girl's arms, knocking all three down.
A few pained cries followed.
Shirley sneered, locked the door, and tossed the keys aside as she passed the entrance, her footsteps echoing as she left the dungeon.
Seeing her gone, Judge slammed the door shut and spat. "What a bitch, acting all high and mighty just because she's got connections."
The two skinny guards sighed bitterly.
"Well, her cousin is the boss, after all."