The Hunter of Pirates

In just half a month, the news of a Devil Fruit being auctioned in Mad Hatter Town had spread across most of the West Blue.

Pirates yearning for power swarmed in like moths to a flame, especially those captains of pirate crews ready to venture into the Grand Line. For them, this was an opportunity they couldn't afford to miss.

What does a Devil Fruit represent? Only seasoned pirates, preparing to break into a new world, could deeply grasp its significance.

On the other hand, the Navy branch in the West Blue naturally caught wind of the news as well.

However, the inevitable limitations of troop deployment rendered the Navy branch largely powerless to act.

After all, this was the West Blue, not the Grand Line.

Beyond issues of priority, the sheer vastness of the West Blue's waters dwarfed those of the Grand Line.

This meant that the Navy in the West Blue had to scatter its forces across vast territories to ensure the safety of the people within their jurisdiction.

Mobilizing scattered forces to one location wasn't impossible in terms of communication, but time would always be the enemy.

And the most vexing problem stemmed from the omnipresent threat of pirates.

Unlike the Navy, which needed to station forces in specific locations to maintain order, pirates roamed freely. Although they didn't necessarily band together, their shared opportunism allowed them to move quickly from place to place.

The moment they spotted an opportunity, they flocked to it like locusts to a field.

By the time the Navy arrived, they'd scatter without hesitation, moving on to the next lucrative target.

Under such circumstances, rashly redeploying forces would only create opportunities for these locust-like pirates to rampage freely elsewhere.

Thus, in the West Blue, it wasn't the threat of individual pirate crews but their overwhelming numbers that gave the Navy the most headaches.

Of course, due to differing local cultures and social environments, the strength of Navy forces varied across regions in the West Blue.

In well-resourced areas, excess troops were often consolidated into mobile units specializing in pursuing and eliminating roaming pirates.

These mobile Navy units, unconstrained by regional boundaries, often struck fear into the hearts of pirates.

Yet despite their effectiveness, they were merely a band-aid on a larger issue.

Take Mad Hatter Town as an example—a deeply entrenched lawless zone. What real impact could such units achieve here?

It was akin to a single armed sheriff storming into a hideout of ten thugs.

The thugs might cower at the sight of the gun and yield despite their numbers.

But if that sheriff barged into a den of a hundred thugs, the outcome was obvious.

Breaking such entrenched lawlessness would require intervention from the Navy's main forces, sending a unit capable of decisively altering the balance.

However, the commotion caused by a single Devil Fruit wasn't enough to prompt such drastic action from Navy Headquarters.

Though the Navy branch in the West Blue couldn't strike effectively at Mad Hatter Town, they still kept a close eye on it through various informants.

Inaction didn't mean doing nothing.

Mad Hatter Island, Mad Hatter Town, Mad Hatter Auction House.

True to its name, the auction house resembled a giant top hat laid on the ground.

For instance:

The first and second floors, representing the brim of the hat, spanned the largest area and served as the main venue for auctions.

To accommodate more attendees, the design of the auction house mirrored that of a traditional opera house, with the second floor effectively part of the first.

As the structure rose, the floors shrank in size.

At the very top was a luxurious room belonging to the auction house's owner.

Lavishly decorated, the room screamed ostentation, exuding the air of a nouveau riche.

The wall facing the main street was made entirely of floor-to-ceiling mirrored glass. Positioned before this grand window was an elegant, deep-red European-style table set.

On the table rested the Devil Fruit set to be auctioned in ten days, cushioned on a soft cloth to emphasize its value.

Reclining in the main seat was a burly, middle-aged man with slicked-back hair, a cigar clamped in his mouth, and a red suit adorning his frame.

This was Lucius Ralph, the auction house's owner.

"With just a wave of its hand, this fruit can drive wolves and tigers alike into a frenzy. Such is the allure of a Devil Fruit," Ralph said, leaning back in his chair. His cold, dark eyes seemed devoid of humanity, betraying no emotion.

Across from him, another man smirked coldly. "That's why it was worth all the trouble bringing it here from the Grand Line. Just transporting it across regions has already multiplied its value several times over. Deals like this are few and far between."

Ralph, veiled in a cloud of smoke, glanced at the man's smug expression without bothering to correct his misconception.

In this world, lucrative deals were hardly rare.

The skyrocketing price of this Devil Fruit owed more to marketing than the transaction itself.

Snuffing out the glowing end of his cigar with his fingers, Ralph said indifferently, "The starting bid is 100 million. The final price should surpass 1 billion."

"That much?"

The man's shock made it clear he trusted Ralph's judgment.

Ralph cast a brief glance at the fruit on the table. "The underground titans of the West Blue aren't interested in this Devil Fruit, but the Five Syndicates are determined to get it. Only one of them can afford to win, and you know what that means, don't you?"

Before the man could answer, Ralph continued:

"It means that, as long as the bidding proceeds normally, the price will only climb until it reaches their limit. Of course, that assumes no one resorts to underhanded tactics. As for the pirates flocking here? They're just here to pad the numbers and throw money around."

Hearing Ralph's analysis, the man grew intrigued.

"So, which of the Five Syndicates do you think will walk away with it?"

"The Beak Syndicate."

At Sol's Weapon Shop, Mobin's injuries had mostly healed after half a month. Combined with his daily feasting on hearty meals, not a trace of his earlier gauntness remained.

The pallor and frailty from his initial awakening had given way to a healthy, ruddy glow.

Feeling much better, Mobin removed his bandages and took a moment to inspect himself in the mirror.

The sickness from before was long gone, replaced by a vibrant, blood-filled complexion. Without the bandages obscuring his brow, even the negative impression left by them had vanished.

As he stared at his reflection, Mobin was pleasantly surprised.

"So, I'm actually this handsome?"

At the same time, he had finally identified his next target—his neighbor.

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