Half an hour later.
Mobin leaned against a secluded alley wall, breathing heavily as he tilted his head back.
The offensive and defensive battle with Elbay had drained too much of his stamina. Following that, he had sprinted non-stop for twenty minutes after leaving the tavern.
Even though he had been resting here for over ten minutes, he still hadn't fully caught his breath.
Mentally, he was also worn out from overusing Shin Drops Fist Listening, leaving him somewhat lethargic.
If not for that skill, he would have been riddled with wounds from Elbay's attacks.
"Barely made it out alive," Mobin muttered, taking a deep breath as he finally had the chance to reload his flintlock.
Recalling the perilous situation in the tavern, Mobin couldn't help but feel relieved. If it weren't for Ratsnout's last-minute assistance, even if he had created chaos in the whirlpool of enemies, he likely would have fallen there.
"Close call," Mobin sighed, still shaken.
Thanks to the assistance of Shin Drops Fist Listening and his decent physical condition, he had managed to fend off Elbay's sword strikes.
Still, he had now witnessed firsthand the level of skill one could expect from a bounty of over thirty million.
"Kazt and Elbay, huh..."
Mobin summoned his Hunter's Journal, recording the firsthand intelligence he had gleaned during the encounter.
After jotting it down, he put away the quill pen and stared at the names of Elbay and Kazt in silence.
"If I were to fight Elbay head-on, I'd likely need to pay a steep price to take her down. As for Kazt, relying solely on firearms would leave me with no chance of victory in a direct confrontation. Even an ambush wouldn't guarantee a kill in one strike."
Mobin put the journal away, murmuring to himself.
Today's unexpected turn of events had vividly highlighted the limitations of a gunslinger.
Once the enemy closed in, the only option was to create as much distance as possible.
While a high enough speed could allow for kiting and even killing the enemy, if the firepower wasn't threatening enough, then even holding an unassailable position wouldn't accomplish anything meaningful.
Without eliminating the prey, the Hunter's Journal wouldn't be effective.
And this was only at the level of a thirty-million bounty.
Looking ahead, in battles against enemies with bounties over a hundred million, just how effective could a gunslinger be, given the technological limitations of firearms in this world?
Thinking it through, Mobin could only reference someone like Usopp.
In other words, was the sole remaining path for a gunslinger one of support?
Even so, he had no companions—what support could he possibly provide?
At this thought, Mobin felt the urge to ask Sol about it.
To ask him how he fought his battles during his journey.
And what strategies or approaches he used to deal with powerful enemies when alone.
"Seems like martial arts and blades are more reliable," Mobin muttered with a sigh.
Still, he wasn't about to abandon marksmanship entirely. After all, having multiple skills was never a disadvantage, and with someone as seasoned as Sol teaching him, it could at least serve as a dependable trump card in the future.
For now, though, he wanted to master a close-combat technique as quickly as possible.
"Time to head back. I didn't find any suitable prey, but at least I gathered some useful information for the future."
Feeling his strength mostly recovered, Mobin decided not to linger on the streets any longer.
The aftereffects of Shin Drops Fist Listening were unpleasant, leaving him in discomfort.
After all, his expertise in this area was just at a beginner's level. Without Nen to alleviate the burden and with his body still in its current frail state, it was already impressive that he could fully execute the technique under those circumstances.
"By the way, where am I?"
Mobin glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
He had been so focused on running that he hadn't noticed which district he had ended up in.
After a brief silence, Mobin looked up at the rooftops.
The day was still young, and climbing up there would seem too conspicuous.
Maybe it would be better to wait until nightfall here?
As he considered this, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from around the corner ahead.
Mobin's eyes sharpened as he quickly drew his pistol, ready to fire at a moment's notice.
The footsteps grew closer, and soon a figure emerged from the corner.
Seeing that it was Ratsnout, a hint of surprise flashed in Mobin's eyes.
"Ratsnout, my dear brother! I'm so glad you're okay!"
Quietly tucking his pistol behind his back, Mobin launched his verbal "strike" before Ratsnout could even speak.
Hearing Mobin's words, the disheveled Ratsnout barely managed to suppress his urge to beat Mobin to a pulp.
"Barely made it out," Ratsnout forced a wry smile, his bloodied right hand holding a white skunk.
The skunk appeared injured, its legs limp, looking just as miserable as Ratsnout.
Mobin glanced at the skunk, casually explaining, "Ratsnout, my brother, I'm really sorry about earlier. When I heard you shouting behind me while I was running, I thought the enemies had caught up. I got so scared that I flinched, and before I knew it, the skunk I'd just saved went flying."
"..."
Ratsnout's mouth twitched slightly.
The skunk lowered its head, its spirit drained by its injuries, leaving it no strength to retort against Mobin's shamelessness.
Ratsnout quickly regained his composure and hastily agreed with Mobin's explanation.
"I understand, I understand. If it were me, I'd probably have reacted even worse."
As he spoke, he failed to notice the incredulous look in the skunk's eyes.
Is this human an idiot?
The skunk silently thought to itself.
Mobin also failed to notice anything unusual about the skunk. Looking at Ratsnout, he shook his head and sighed. "No harm done. What matters is that we're both okay."
"Exactly, that's... uh, haha, that's what matters."
Ratsnout felt as though he'd just swallowed something unpleasant but had no choice but to act as if it were delicious.
"Oh, by the way, here's something you dropped. If not for the effort of returning this, I'd probably be back tending to my wounds by now."
With that, Ratsnout lifted the skunk, which now looked utterly despondent.
This was the excuse he'd come up with to seek out Mobin, however flimsy it might be.
He wanted to seize this opportunity to break down Mobin's walls of distrust.
"Oh, isn't this Elbay's pet?"
Mobin corrected Ratsnout with a serious expression.
Ratsnout was taken aback, then feigned surprise. "Ah? This is Elbay's pet? I thought it was yours, so I carried it around all this time."
The moment he finished speaking, the skunk, which had outlived its usefulness, was casually tossed aside.
As it hit the ground, its injuries flared up, causing it to let out a pained cry. It nearly began speaking out of sheer frustration but managed to restrain itself.
You shameless bastards will get struck by lightning someday!
The skunk whimpered softly in pain, cursing Ratsnout and Mobin fiercely in its heart.
Ratsnout paid no attention to the skunk's plight. Glancing around the area, he feigned surprise again.
"This place is close to my home. Mobin, why don't you come over and rest for a bit?"
Initially, he intended to say, "treat your wounds," but seeing that Mobin was completely unscathed while he himself was covered in injuries, he decided to rephrase.
"Heh," Mobin chuckled faintly.
"???"
Ratsnout was stunned and cautiously asked, "Does that mean... yes?"
"Sure, let's go to your place and rest."
Mobin had initially planned to decline but changed his mind after some thought.
He could tell Ratsnout had ulterior motives. However, back at the tavern, if not for Ratsnout intercepting Kazt...
Because of that, Mobin didn't mind playing along to see what Ratsnout was up to.
Hearing Mobin's agreement, Ratsnout was overjoyed, feeling that all his efforts had paid off.
Still, he maintained his composure and calmly said, "Follow me."
With that, he walked ahead.
Mobin discreetly put away his pistol and followed.
After a few steps, he suddenly turned back to look at the skunk, which was slowly crawling away in an attempt to escape.
"Ratsnout, do you think skunk meat is edible?"
Hearing Mobin's question, Ratsnout stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the white skunk, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
Feeling their malicious gazes piercing through its body, the skunk froze in place, lying flat on the ground, not daring to move.
You scoundrels...!
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