[Sabaody Tourist District.
The woman from the antique shop, like everyone else, had her attention drawn by the sudden flash of fire and the massive explosion.
Around her, people buzzed with speculation about what had happened.
Curiosity flickered in her eyes as well.
But as she noticed the golden light streaking across the sky and the swarms of Marines mobilizing, she pulled down the brim of her hat and quietly slipped away from the cafe.]
The sea was calm, the sunlight warm.
In the first half of the Grand Line, a large passenger ship cut steadily through the waves.
Several small naval escort vessels maintained a tight defensive formation around it, providing basic security for the journey.
On the forward deck, sprawled comfortably on a beach chair, was Moren.
He wore wide sunglasses that blocked the harsh glare while hiding most of his face.
A simple linen shirt and pants, a small travel bag at his feet.
He looked like any ordinary traveler.
Two days had passed since he had slipped aboard this ship amid the chaos at Sabaody and set sail.
His plan was to take several transfers, heading in the opposite direction of the Grand Line back toward the East Blue.
He would spend about a month hopping from ship to ship back toward the East Blue, searching for that exceptional navigator and inviting her to join his crew.
He had no choice.
Ever since arriving in this world, his dream had been to travel everywhere, to go on adventures, to collect treasures.
But to fulfill that dream, he first needed a ship.
Then some reliable crewmates to sail with him.
There was no way he could handle a ship alone.
In the time he had already spent here, he had personally and repeatedly experienced just how dangerous the seas of this world were.
Sudden storms, unpredictable weather, routes that needed constant recalibration, navigation charts that gave him a headache, and vicious Sea Kings.
Without a trustworthy navigator as guide and foundation for the crew, setting out alone would be suicide.
So even though it was a hassle to travel all the way from the Grand Line back to the East Blue, Moren still felt it was absolutely necessary.
After all, a genius navigator was rarer than any Devil Fruit.
If he did not recruit someone like that as soon as possible, what was he waiting for?
Just as he was resting with his eyes closed, planning his next travel route, a commotion rippled across the deck.
Several News Coos flapped their wings and dropped fresh copies of the World Economic News to waiting passengers.
This was the most welcome source of information during the tedium of a sea voyage.
A few passengers nearby eagerly snatched up the papers and spread them across the table.
At first it was casual browsing.
Then came gasps of disbelief that shattered the afternoon quiet.
“Oh my god!
How many zeros is that?”
“Let me see.
Tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands, millions, billions.
One billion berries?”
“One billion?
A bounty of one billion berries?
Did he destroy an entire island or what?”
“Wait.
The paper says he blew up the Human Auction House at Sabaody Archipelago.”
“And he killed a Celestial Dragon?
What?”
“Is that real?
He blew up the auction house and the Celestial Dragons together?”
“Black Cat Sheriff, that’s what they call him, right?
This guy is insane.
Completely insane.”
As more people got their papers, exclamations spread rapidly across the deck, followed by even more intense shock and nonstop discussion.
A bounty of one billion berries.
Killing a Celestial Dragon.
Blowing up the Human Auction House.
Each of them alone would be enough to detonate the news cycle.
All three together?
The impact of the photograph was more shocking than any written description.
Even Moren, the one responsible, felt it.
“Whew.
That newspaper photographer really has skills.
The angle, the composition.
I should definitely get in touch sometime.”
He picked up the wanted poster, rubbing the edge with his fingertip, and murmured with mild amusement.
“Tch.
One billion berries.
The World Government sure is generous.
I’m almost tempted myself.”
“I wonder if I could send someone to impersonate me and cash in the reward.”
He casually stuffed the newspaper and wanted poster into his bag and set them aside.
His eyes scanned the main article, which detailed the “Black Cat Sheriff’s” atrocities at Sabaody.
Of course, the specifics were lacking.
But the story still exaggerated his supposed brutality, especially the so called “Vocational Safety Center,” the Human Auction House, portraying it as a place of utter cruelty.
Between the lines, he was painted as an anti-social, anti-world extremist, a figure of extreme danger.
The article dripped with the World Government’s fury and its determination to see him dead.
This seemed to be the compromise reached between the newspaper and the World Government.
Still, the World Economic News had quite the nerve, daring to touch such a sensitive subject.
“Morgans.
That big bird really has ridiculous guts.”
No wonder he had not been roasted yet.
Moren knew full well that this wanted poster and news report meant that the “Black Cat Sheriff” identity had officially become one of the World Government’s top actively pursued targets.
From now on, the moment that identity dared to appear, an Admiral or even World Government agents would come after him.
But Moren was not worried.
That identity had been nothing more than a casually made identity anyway, a mask he had thrown together on a whim.
Besides, the “Black Cat Sheriff” was wanted.
What did that have to do with Moren?
He was just an adventurer and a collector, nothing more.
Maybe there would be a few complications.
But that had never stopped him from pursuing adventure and collecting.
He nonchalantly stuffed the newspaper and wanted poster into his bag, then lay back down on the beach chair and gazed out at the endless blue sea behind his sunglasses.
A “ghost” worth a 1,000,000,000-berry bounty had already come into existence.
And that name would very soon spread across the seas.
But the ghost himself, at this very moment, was lounging like the most ordinary traveler, planning his next travel route under the warm sun.