The tavern was bustling with noise and chatter, nearly every seat taken. Even the semi-circular bar counter was so crowded there wasn't a single gap to be found.
The lively business spoke volumes.
After scanning the room, only a few inconspicuous seats near the corners were left.
Maude sat in one of them. On the small round table before him were a bottle of rum and some appetizers, freshly delivered by a server.
He didn't touch the food or drink. Instead, he focused on listening to the cacophony of conversations around him.
"Did you hear about the incident at last night's auction?"
"What, you don't know?"
"I was hammered last night. If I hadn't overheard someone talking about it on the way here, I wouldn't have known anything. So, what happened?"
"Apparently, a few big gangs clashed over a Devil Fruit. Makes sense, right? Who wouldn't want one?"
"Oh? Did someone manage to snatch it?"
"Nope. The troublemakers were all slaughtered by a mob boss. In the end, the Devil Fruit was eaten by Capone Bege, the one who bought it."
"Seriously? What was the final bid?"
"Rumor has it, over a billion berries. Not sure if it's true, though."
"Whew…"
The sound of someone sucking in a sharp breath followed.
"That much? If I had a billion berries, I'd go wherever the hell I pleased!"
"Idiot. If you had that much, I'd be the first to rob you."
"What did you just say?"
Bang.
A wooden mug slammed heavily onto the table.
What followed was the dull thud of fists striking faces and bodies—a unique form of communication among men, one might say.
Maude withdrew his gaze and silently mused, Capone Bege? So he's in Mad Hat Town too? But Sunny's notebook didn't have any intel on him. Could he have come here just for the Devil Fruit?
"So, this is when he ate the Devil Fruit," Maude thought to himself, recalling information about Bege and the fruit's abilities.
Listening to the surrounding conversations, which were mostly about the Devil Fruit incident, Maude couldn't muster much interest in Bege, despite the latter's reputation and status.
It was hard to imagine a man of such standing and power ultimately choosing to set sail.
To each their own, he concluded.
"Did that Fish-Man slave manage to escape in the end?"
Not far from Maude's table, a group of pirates was discussing a Fish-Man slave.
Maude's ears perked up, and he discreetly glanced toward the group.
"No, he didn't. He died in an alley, apparently killed by an undertaker."
"An undertaker? What, are they taking jobs for Fish-Man corpses now?"
"No idea. When the auction house found the body, though, it was missing a few parts."
"You mean…?"
"Eh, don't take these rumors too seriously. I could say the Fish-Man slave was killed by a prostitute, and you'd believe me?"
"Haha! Forget it. Let's drink!"
Hearing their discussion, Maude frowned slightly and sighed inwardly.
It wasn't surprising that someone had found out.
After all, the streets and buildings near the alley were full of people at the time.
What he regretted, though, was that after killing the Fish-Man slave, he had been so caught up in the joy of his spoils that he didn't think to remove a few key "parts" from the corpse to align with his disguise as an undertaker.
I'll need to be more careful next time.
He committed the experience to memory, instinctively picking up his mug and taking a small sip.
Can't let anyone think it's odd for a customer to sit this long without drinking, he thought.
Unbeknownst to Maude, the auction house had already traced the incident to a mask resembling one used by a local undertaker named Arthur.
If Arthur hadn't been at the auction at the time, he likely would have been "invited" in for tea and a chat.
Still, Arthur now knew someone was impersonating him to commit illicit deeds.
Setting his mug down, Maude subtly observed the patrons around him.
With limited access to information, this was his only way to gather useful intel.
Each time the tavern door creaked open, he instinctively glanced toward it.
Creak.
The well-worn wooden door swung open.
Maude glanced over. Upon recognizing the newcomer as Wolfrat, he quickly averted his eyes.
That lunatic from last night?
Looking at the food and drink on his table, Maude was startled.
I shot him last night. How is he walking around like nothing happened—and dressed so flamboyantly?
Zoan-types and their recovery rates, he thought, feeling a flicker of heat rise in his chest.
Last night, he'd retreated due to the lack of a solid plan.
But things were different now. With the profits from killing Fish-Man Sam, Maude estimated his chances were at least fifty-fifty if he prepared thoroughly.
As he calculated, Wolfrat scanned the room, quickly spotting Maude in his corner.
Compared to the burly, loud, bare-armed men around him, Maude's youthful and somewhat naive appearance made him stand out—even in a corner.
"Found you. And… seems like fate is on my side," Wolfrat thought, making his way toward Maude without drawing attention.
In a crowded tavern, sitting at an already-occupied table would seem less suspicious than choosing an empty one.
Otherwise, anyone unfamiliar with the situation might think he had… other intentions.
He's heading this way?
Noticing Wolfrat's approach, Maude glanced at the empty seat across from him and felt a pang of frustration.
This again?
Last night, the situation had been similar, though Lafitte's presence and aura had drawn most of the tavern's attention.
Now, the man exuding an unsettling aura—a Zoan-user no less—was much less conspicuous.
Good thing I wore a mask last night and disguised my voice. Never coming to a packed tavern like this again, Maude resolved silently.
Last night's outfit hadn't been his undertaker uniform, but he had deliberately worn bulky clothing to conceal his figure.
No way he'd recognize me, Maude thought.
As Wolfrat approached, Maude looked up, watching as the man casually sat down across from him.
Seeing no immediate reaction, Maude became more confident that Wolfrat hadn't recognized him.
"Well, aren't you a handsome one," Wolfrat said, exaggerating his admiration.
Maude responded with a polite smile but didn't engage.
This guy… really is desperate for friends, Maude mused.
Wolfrat, believing his opening gambit was successful, signaled for a server while flashing what he thought was a friendly smile at Maude.
Unbeknownst to him, the smile came off more like a muscle spasm to onlookers.
"Name's Wolfrat. What about you?"
"…Usopp."
"Usopp, huh? What a name! Truly unique!"
"And how's that?"
"…"
Wolfrat was momentarily at a loss.
Just then, the tavern door creaked open again, saving him from further embarrassment.
A tall, provocatively dressed woman with bold red lips entered, holding a white skunk by a leash. Behind her trailed a group of sturdy men.
"Hey, Usopp, check it out. A real beauty," Wolfrat said, seizing the opportunity to shift the subject.
Maude smirked slightly, letting the awkward moment slide as he glanced toward the woman.
At the same time, he keenly sensed the tavern's atmosphere shifting.
Another pirate with a notorious reputation, like Lafitte? And a woman, no less.
Could she be…
Maude flipped through his mental notes, recalling the intel from Sunny's journal.
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