“One hundred Berries.” The voice wasn’t loud, yet it froze the air in the auction hall for a fleeting instant.
Every head snapped around, eager to see which fool dared to cause a scene in such a place.
What kind of event was a Human Auction?
The attendees were either fabulously wealthy or immensely powerful, each a figure of some renown.
To bid a mere one hundred Berries here was a blatant insult to everyone present.
Yet, when their gazes landed on the white-haired youth, all their anger, indignation, and contempt deflated like a punctured balloon.
A…
a World Noble?
Oh, never mind then.
The nobles silently averted their eyes and lowered their heads, not daring to utter another word.
A few pot-bellied tycoons who had been rubbing their hands in anticipation of a bidding war now wished they could shrink their heads into their collars and pretend they never existed.
On the auction stage, the auctioneer’s smile had completely frozen.
He gripped the gavel, his mouth hanging open, unsure of what to say.
One hundred Berries?
How am I supposed to follow that?
In twenty years of experience, he had witnessed countless auctions.
He had seen low-ball bids and stubborn hagglers, but someone directly bidding one hundred Berries?
This was a first.
After all, the auctioneer was just an employee.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and shot a desperate, pleading look toward an inconspicuous corner backstage.
There, a figure leaned against a pillar by the curtain, a cigar clamped between his teeth.
His expression was obscured by the swirling smoke—he was the true boss of this auction house.
The boss blew out a puff of smoke, his lips twitching.
What could he do?
The buyer was a World Noble.
Even if the bid had been a single Berry, he would have had to grin and bear it.
Surely, they couldn’t afford to offend a World Noble over a few slaves.
That would be far worse than any financial loss.
The boss gave a helpless wave of his hand, signaling the auctioneer to end this farce immediately.
As if granted a divine pardon, the auctioneer hastily raised his gavel and brought it down with a heavy thud.
“One…
one hundred Berries!
Sold!
Congratulations to this lord for securing these three lots!” The sound of the gavel echoed sharply in the silent hall.
Saint Dio’s face remained completely devoid of emotion, as if he had just casually bought three heads of cabbage.
He tilted his head slightly and glanced at Stussy.
Stussy understood his silent command.
She stepped forward to handle the transaction with the auction staff.
Of course, the banknote she produced was of such a large denomination that the staff had to return a huge handful of change, as if mocking the very idea of the auction.
After securing his targets, Saint Dio didn’t even spare a glance for the other slaves on stage.
He had zero interest in the Fish-Men, Giants, or even the strangely-featured humans chained there.
He didn’t want to spend another second in this place, reeking of greed and hypocrisy.
He stood up and turned to leave.
The hem of his white coat swayed gently behind him as he walked away with unhurried strides.
One hundred Berries.
To be honest, even if he had bid a hundred million, his wealth as a World Noble would have easily covered it.
But why waste money like that?
He had the privileges of a World Noble; only a fool wouldn’t use them.
Besides, he had much larger plans ahead.
Building his own secret faction, orchestrating his schemes, recruiting talent, and acquiring equipment—each of these would require astronomical sums of money.
Wealth should be spent where it truly matters, not squandered on filthy human traffickers.
Saint Dio stepped out of the auction house.
The sunlight was still bright, and bubbles continued to drift through the air.
Before long, the sound of footsteps and the clatter of metal chains dragging on the ground approached from behind.
Stussy emerged, holding a long, slender chain.
The chain split into three branches, each connected to a black collar around the necks of the three girls.
Those collars were standard equipment for the human auction house, designed to prevent “merchandise” from escaping.
They contained small bombs that, once triggered, were powerful enough to blow an adult’s head to pieces.
The three girls stumbled along, dragged by the chains as they followed behind Stussy.
Their faces were etched with defiance and resentment, especially Boa Hancock, who led them.
She bit her lip hard, her black eyes burning with fury, her small fists clenched until her knuckles turned white.
If she weren’t protecting her two younger sisters, she would have thrown herself at their captors in a desperate fight long ago.
Sensing their resistance, Stussy turned her head slightly, a sweet yet spine-chilling smile spreading across her doll-like, exquisite face.
She leaned down, bringing her lips close to Hancock’s ear, and whispered in a soft, gentle tone: “Little sister, I’d advise you all to be good girls~ That little thing around your necks…
if you don’t behave…
it’ll go bang and blow your pretty little heads right off~” Just then, as if the heavens themselves were punctuating Stussy’s words, the auction house doors were violently thrown open.
A pirate slave, covered in wounds, broke free from his guard’s restraint and charged into the street like a madman, his laughter echoing hysterically: “Hahaha!
I’m free!
I’m finally—” His words were cut short.
Beep, beep, beep—BEEEEEP— The collar around the man’s neck emitted a frantic, high-pitched buzz.
Then— BOOM!
A dull, heavy explosion rocked the air.
The pirate slave’s head burst open like a crushed watermelon, blood and brain matter spraying across the street in full view of everyone.
His headless corpse stumbled forward a couple more steps by sheer momentum before collapsing to the ground.
It twitched a few times, then lay completely still.
The street erupted in screams and gasps.
The three sisters—Boa Hancock and her younger siblings—stood frozen.
They had watched the head explode right before their eyes.
A few drops of warm blood had even splattered onto their calves.
The man who had been laughing just a second ago was now a headless corpse.
The brutal sight drove home the true meaning of the cold iron collars around their own necks.
Hancock’s body shuddered violently.
The flames of fury in her black eyes were half-extinguished by a wave of terror.
She instinctively reached up to touch her collar, and the icy chill of the metal against her fingertips made her shiver uncontrollably.
Behind her, her two younger sisters clung to each other, trembling so hard they couldn’t even bring themselves to cry.
They stopped struggling.
Faced with the threat of death, even the most stubborn wildness had to be quelled.
The three girls silently lowered their heads, allowing Stussy to lead them by the chain as they walked obediently behind her white-clad figure.
Stussy led the three young girls forward, quickly catching up to Saint Dio.
She offered a slight bow.
“Master, I have brought them.” Saint Dio stopped in his tracks and turned around.
His gaze fell upon the three girls.
The two younger ones, Boa Sandersonia and Boa Marigold, shrank back at his stare.
They tried to hide behind their sister, too terrified to meet his eyes, though their bodies were far too large to be fully concealed.
But Boa Hancock gritted her teeth and kept her head up.
Her black eyes, brimming with tears yet still fiercely defiant, glared at the white-haired youth before her.
Saint Dio met her gaze for a moment.
Then, he reached out and gripped her chin, applying just enough pressure to force her head even higher.
Her face, though still youthful and not yet fully matured, already revealed a stunningly beautiful foundation.
Her features were exquisitely delicate, her brows imbued with a natural air of nobility and stubbornness.
Her skin was a healthy, milky white, as smooth as the finest silk.
Her black eyes were clear and bright; even now, filled with tears and hatred, they could not conceal the latent brilliance within.
Her lips were pressed together, their shape as graceful as a rosebud—unblossomed and still green, yet already promising a peerless beauty in full bloom.