Saving a Fish-Man to kill a Fish-Man.
Such an odd logic—how could Clara, as a bystander, possibly comprehend it?
Thus, she simply assumed Maude was rescuing the Fish-Man.
In her astonishment, what followed was a growing curiosity about Maude's identity.
On the long street, the Fish-Man slave, desperate to flee back to the sea, also noticed this unexpected twist.
Someone's helping me?
For a moment, the Fish-Man fell into the same train of thought as Clara.
Who?
In a place like this, how could anyone possibly help me?
Shaking his head violently, he pushed such thoughts aside—there was no time for contemplation. He focused entirely on running for his life.
That said, he wasn't stupid.
After experiencing firsthand what it felt like to be a moving target, there was no way he'd continue sprinting down the street.
With a sharp turn, he darted into an alley between the buildings.
The surrounding pirates, who had been shooting at the Fish-Man slave for fun, lamented that they could no longer fire more shots but didn't bother chasing him.
They understood perfectly well that the Fish-Man slave was property of the auction house in Mad Hat Town.
When there was a crowd, everyone could have their fun firing a few shots. If the Fish-Man died, the blame would be shared.
In that scenario, there was no fear of retaliation from the auction house.
As for capturing the Fish-Man alive to help the auction house?
The risks outweighed the benefits—only a fool would attempt it.
Seeing the Fish-Man slave vanish into the alley, the rowdy pirates redirected their attention to the three fallen comrades, who'd been mysteriously killed, and the chaotic brawl unfolding at the auction house entrance.
From atop the building, Maude observed the Fish-Man turning into the alley, a faint smile of satisfaction forming beneath his mask.
Now, that's more like it…
The thought of verifying whether the Hunter's Notebook worked on Fish-Men excited him.
When Maude initially designed his ability, the purpose was to leverage the informational advantage of a transmigrator.
Subconsciously, the name "Hunter's Notebook" reflected its intent: to hunt people.
In Maude's original scope of potential prey, Fish-Men and Giants weren't even included.
However, both Fish-Men and Giants were humanoid enough to be tangentially connected to the concept of "people."
Therefore, Maude believed the likelihood of applicability was high.
If it worked, his range of prey would expand significantly.
At that point, Fish-Men and Giants would become highly lucrative targets.
Yet, while the rewards were great, Fish-Men and Giants, unlike the ubiquitous pirates, were akin to rare creatures.
Unless one ventured into their territories, they were essentially opportunistic encounters.
"The physical resilience of the Fish-Man race truly is astounding. Despite taking so many injuries, he's still maintaining that speed."
Maude trailed closely behind the Fish-Man slave.
"If not for killing those three pirates earlier tonight, I might not have been able to keep up."
Watching the Fish-Man maintain his pace without faltering, Maude was impressed but remained composed.
Letting the Fish-Man run more was ideal.
First, blood loss would weaken him.
Next, exhaustion would sap his stamina.
Only then would taking him down become effortless.
Earlier, Maude had carefully observed the Fish-Man's display of brutal prowess among the crowd.
Now, like a lone wolf patiently awaiting its prey to tire, Maude shadowed the Fish-Man from behind.
Mindful of potential interference, Maude slowed his pace, reloading his weapon while in pursuit.
Though his physical abilities were no longer weak, firearms still provided a sense of security.
As long as his enemy wasn't bulletproof, Maude was confident in handling the situation.
After roughly ten minutes, the effects of the Fish-Man's injuries finally began to manifest.
First came blood loss, leading to weakness in his limbs.
Then, a noticeable drop in his speed followed.
Cautious of potential complications, Maude judged it was time to act.
Accelerating suddenly, he leaped swiftly, landing directly in front of the Fish-Man.
Startled, the Fish-Man came to an abrupt stop.
His blood loss-weakened body couldn't handle the sudden motion, causing him to stumble forward.
Damn it…!
The Fish-Man's heart pounded wildly.
To his surprise, the human before him didn't immediately strike.
Steadying himself with effort, the Fish-Man panted heavily, warily eyeing the unexpected figure.
His gaze fell on the human's knife and the long-barreled gun partially visible over his shoulder, triggering alarm bells.
Ignoring his exhaustion, the Fish-Man lunged forward.
Strike first!
Bang!
The Fish-Man froze.
A lead bullet struck the ground before him, wisps of smoke curling upward.
"Foolish human."
Noticing that the flintlock's sole bullet had been deliberately fired off-target, the Fish-Man's heart steadied.
In terrain like this, firearms were his greatest concern. When he saw the gun on Maude's back earlier, he'd risked charging forward.
But now, the human had wasted his shot.
He neither understood nor cared why.
Instead, the Fish-Man adjusted his breathing, preparing for a counterattack.
Using the spent shot to halt the charge, Maude discarded the now-empty flintlock, known as "Usopp."
"Even though you're a Fish-Man, I, Arthur, never exploit the weak."
Tilting his head slightly, Maude's eyes gleamed from the mask's hollow openings, locking onto the Fish-Man.
"You're severely injured and out of breath from running. I'll grant you five minutes to rest."
"…"
The Fish-Man's eyes widened.
So that's why he deliberately missed…
How pointless.
Humans and their arrogance—it was nothing but stupidity.
Five minutes?
He calculated that three would suffice for recovery.
The Fish-Man silently adjusted his breathing. Waiting five minutes? Impossible.
Once he regained his strength, he would strike without hesitation and leave this cursed place.
Maude watched the Fish-Man's focused recovery, speaking with a measured tone: "I don't kill nameless opponents. State your name."
He raised the knife before him.
The Fish-Man scoffed at the gesture.
Even in his injured state, close-quarters combat favored him overwhelmingly against a knife-wielding human.
"Seadon Sam."
Without hesitation, the Fish-Man coldly stated his name.
He considered adding a threat but deemed it unnecessary.
Soon, he would crush this pretentious human's skull with his bare hands.
"Seadon Sam, is it?"
Maude chuckled softly, studying the blood-streaked contours of Sam's face.
After a moment, Maude suddenly retreated, sheathing his knife.
Sam blinked, unsure of Maude's intentions.
Reaching into his coat, Maude pulled out the Hunter's Notebook.
"A Devil Fruit user?!"
Seeing the notebook materialize, Sam felt a surge of danger.
Abandoning his recovery, he charged decisively at Maude.
Unfazed, Maude calmly wrote Sam's name and notable feats in the notebook, his actions precise, almost judicial.
"Whatever your ability is, once I'm close—!"
Sam lunged, his webbed hand poised to crush Maude's face.
Then, his expression twisted in shock.
The notebook vanished, replaced by a flintlock pistol.
Bang!
The bullet struck Sam's torso, halting his advance.
"You…!"
Sam collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.
Maude drew a second flintlock, firing another shot into Sam's prone figure.
"Wretched Arthur… Arlong will… will avenge us…"
Before finishing, Sam fell silent.
"Arlong?"
Hearing Sam's final words, Maude's brow furrowed thoughtfully.
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