"Human resource redistribution?"
Barena was baffled.
He couldn't help but mutter the phrase under his breath a few times, testing the syllables.
'Hu-man... re-source... re-dis-tri-bu-tion...'
'What the hell does that even mean?'
However, Barena was ultimately a seasoned veteran who had spent many years in the North Blue Underworld.
With just a little deduction, letting the fancy words settle, he figured it out.
'Damn it! A slave trader! A high-class slave trader pretending to be cultured!'
'Human resource redistribution,' my ass! It's just trafficking people from one place and selling them to another, isn't it?
But this identity, as bizarrely-phrased as it was, made Barena let down his guard.
Originally, he had thought they might be World Government intelligence agents or, worse, ambitious schemers.
If they were just human traffickers... well, that was a business he understood.
They could potentially cooperate.
"My apologies for what happened earlier," Barena said, his tone shifting instantly from "wary boss" to "eager businessman."
He gestd at the bloody fork on the bar.
"My subordinate had too much to drink. I'm very sorry." He spread his hands wide. "Guests from afar, I'm the boss of the Carlos Mafia, and I'm very interested in your... human resource redistribution business." He smiled.
"If you don't mind, we could find a quiet place to talk."
Barena was quite curious.
Just two people, daring to enter his territory like this, showed considerable courage.
But the move Cleveland had just displayed—the fork, the speed, the complete lack of expression—also made Barena extremely wary.
'No wonder, they dared to waltz in here. Their strength must rank among the notable figures from the Grand Line'.
Barena had automatically, and completely, assumed Raleigh and Cleveland were big shots who had come from the Grand Line.
The three smiled at each other, and while each harbored their own ulterior motives, they found a private room in the back of the tavern.
As soon as they sat down, Barena got straight to the point.
"Honored guests, I'm very interested in your human trafficking business. Could we discuss it in detail?"
Raleigh didn't answer immediately.
He glanced, just for a second, at the window.
Then he quickly withdrew his gaze.
Seeing this, Barena quickly explained, "Ah, sorry about that, guests. Recently, there's been a... group of mysterious people... targeting individuals within the kingdom. A good friend of mine was assassinated last month." He gestured to the unseen guards outside.
"These measures were just taken to protect my safety. Please don't mind them."
Raleigh nodded, his expression completely calm.
He had already scanned the entire area with his Observation Haki.
The positions, numbers, and (meager) strength of Barena's Mafia members were all crystal clear to him.
"Allow me to introduce myself," Raleigh said, leaning back. "I'm Christian Raleigh, vice-captain of the Barbary Pirates. This is my deputy, Cleveland."
He gave a lazy smile.
"We took advantage of the great turmoil in the New World to make a... substantial haul... and are now looking for a place to process these new 'resources.'"
"I heard that the Eryoku Kingdom is in dire need of labor, so I came here first to investigate."
Raleigh's response, delivered with casual confidence, fit the current global situation perfectly.
Although Barena had never left the Eryoku Kingdom, he enjoyed reading the global news in the newspapers.
He was well aware of the great pirate war in the New World.
He knew the Marines were struggling, barely holding the first half of the Grand Line.
For a Mafia boss like him, the chaos was a goldmine.
Population, Belly, and local specialties were all valuable resources to plunder.
So upon hearing Raleigh's words, Barena's mind automatically cemented the image: this was the vice-captain of a New World pirate crew.
Barena became even more enthusiastic, practically vibrating.
He grabbed a bottle and repeatedly raised his glass to Raleigh.
"Raleigh-san, please! Allow me to toast with you!"
After downing a glass of red wine, Barena shed his superficial refinement and began drinking and eating heartily, trying to match what he thought a pirate's etiquette was.
Raleigh and Cleveland, seeing this, also started pretending.
Their table manners grew increasingly... exaggerated.
Raleigh started gnawing on a leg of mystery meat, and Cleveland began slurping his rum loudly.
After all, for pirates, eating and drinking like a starved animal better suited their identity.
"Raleigh-san," Barena said, leaning in. "How do you... transport... the slaves from the Grand Line?"
Cleveland, who was in the middle of a very loud slurp, froze.
'I... I... what?' he screamed internally.
'I've been confused since we walked in! What slave transportation? I don't know anything about it! Oh god, he's asking... he's asking..'.
Fortunately, the question was directed at Raleigh.
Cleveland slowly, painfully, raised his head to see how Raleigh would respond to this direct, unscripted question.
He saw Raleigh lift his wine glass.
He saw Raleigh toast Barena with a knowing smile.
He saw Raleigh finish his drink... and say nothing.
Cleveland was utterly, profoundly bewildered.
'BOSS! He's waiting for an answer! You're not saying anything! Won't we be exposed?! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?!'
The atmosphere in the room grew somewhat awkward.
But just as Cleveland was about to have a panic-induced aneurysm, Barena's face paled.
He quickly caught on and hurriedly refilled his own glass.
"My apologies, Raleigh-san!" Barena laughed nervously. "I... I shouldn't have asked about your trade secrets! How rude of me!"
Raleigh very amiably picked up his glass and said, "No problem. Ignorance is no crime."
He took a small sip. "But I hope you will remember... this secret is how we make our living."
Barena, understanding the implied threat, downed his wine in one gulp.
"So, Raleigh-san," Barena said, getting back to safe territory. "What are your slave prices?"
The moment business was mentioned, Raleigh's entire demeanor changed.
The lazy, boisterous pirate vanished, replaced instantly by a highly professional, cold-eyed veteran slave trader.
"Let me give you a general overview," Raleigh said, his voice crisp.
"The slaves we currently trade include thick-skinned, immensely powerful fish-men." He ticked off his fingers.
"Then there are the stronger, seasoned men from various New World islands. Along with... a small number of young, beautiful women. What we have most in stock right now are the strong fish-men and pirate prisoners, all captured from defeated enemies. Which type are you interested in?"
Barena was quite intrigued by the "young, beautiful women" Raleigh mentioned, but out of professional ethics, he decided to complete this business deal first.
"What we mainly need here is a large quantity of young, strong labor. How much Belly... would the fish-men and the strong humans cost?"
Raleigh pulled a blank piece of paper from his pocket, writing and drawing as he spoke.
Soon the paper was filled with his slave price quotes.
Humans (Strong Male): 500,000 Belly
Fish-Men (Male): 800,000 Belly
Women (Young/Beautiful): Ranging from 500,000 to 3,000,000 Belly.
Barena was quite tempted by the fish-men.
He had long heard that fish-men possessed exceptionally powerful physiques, far surpassing ordinary humans.
But for now, the cost-effectiveness was acceptable, though there wasn't much profit.
"Raleigh-san," Barena said, pushing the paper back. "I'm quite interested in your... group... but your prices don't offer much advantage compared to the other slave traders in the North Blue."
"Although the local traders here don't have any Fish-Men," he haggled, "they offer cheap labor for as little as two to three hundred thousand Belly per person."
Upon hearing this, Raleigh smiled.
"We're just here to survey the situation first. If we decide to do business with you in the future... then the slave groups in the North Blue will have to make way for us."
He leaned forward. "In our business, we don't rely on reasoning. We rely on fists."
Raleigh's domineering statement, delivered with the casual arrogance of a man who'd seen the New World, left Bareina momentarily stunned.
'Truly... a powerhouse who has survived in the New World. His words carry such authority!'
Bareina didn't doubt for a second whether Raleigh could deliver.
After all, no one would assume that a powerhouse from the New World couldn't easily overpower the pathetically weak pirate crews of the Four Blues.
"You are the first target of our survey in the North Blue," Raleigh continued, softening his tone. "If our cooperation goes smoothly, I'll offer you a significant discount." He winked.
"Additionally, the quality of our slaves is definitely higher than that of the North Blue slave traders. If you agree to a preliminary deal, I'll even throw in two... female slaves... as a bonus."
Raleigh stood up while stretching.
"But first, we need to survey the interior of the kingdom. We need to determine exactly what type of slaves would be most suitable to bring in."
Bareina mentally applauded.
'Now, that's what I call professionalism! First, inspect the location, then sell the appropriate slaves based on the environment! This man is a genius!'
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