Second floor.
The proprietress affectionately linked her arm with Dar’s, her ample softness brushing against his arm intentionally or otherwise, and she pointed with seductive, melting eyes toward the jet-black coat at the very back.
“Look, little brother, this is the treasure of our shop.”
Her voice was soft and bewitching, her fingertips gently brushing over the fabric.
“The entire piece is sewn from the fur of the Dark-Winged Mink, an exotic beast found only in the New World.
It’s as light as mist and keeps the cold at bay.
Especially the fluff on the collar; that’s the down from the belly of the Sky Giant, the Wind-Breaking Eagle.
Even ordinary nobles might not be able to afford to wear it.
If a handsome young man like you wears it, your aura will definitely outshine all the socialites in this entire town.”
Dar couldn’t listen to any of this introduction.
The softness and warmth pressing against his arm had long since made his mind wander, filling his head with lewd images of what might happen next.
He waved his hand grandly, full of bravado:
“I’ll buy it!”
Seeing Dar was so decisive and generous, the proprietress smiled even more sweetly, tightening her grip on his arm until almost her entire body was pressed against him.
Dar was at an age full of vigor; how could he withstand such provocation?
His brain overheated, and he reached out to pull her into his embrace.
“Oh!
You naughty little brother, don’t be like this…
let me go.”
The proprietress gasped, but her body only struggled symbolically and lightly, her eyes filled with a mix of panic and seduction.
Dar’s heart raced, and he was just about to take it further—
Thump, thump, thump.
A steady sound of footsteps suddenly came from the top of the stairs.
The proprietress’s expression changed instantly.
She tore herself from Dar’s embrace, scrambling to straighten her messy clothes and hair.
“What the hell!
Who is that?!”
Dar’s temper flared instantly.
With his good time interrupted, he almost cursed out loud, “I’ll kill you today!”
A middle-aged man walked slowly up the stairs.
He was in his forties, about 1.5 meters tall, and his waist was about the same—round and plump like a wine barrel.
He wore a slicked-back hairstyle and had a handlebar mustache, exuding the aura of a shrewd, calculating profiteer at a glance.
The proprietress immediately put on a well-behaved and docile expression and went to greet him:
“Honey, you’re back.”
Dar: “…”
Honey?!
No way, is he that unlucky?!
He felt his vision go dark, and he completely fell apart.
Ten minutes later.
Dar was wearing that explosively cool black fur coat, the down on the collar looking flamboyant and domineering.
On his lower body—a pair of patterned boxers, and he was wearing flip-flops on his feet.
He stood alone on the street, disheveled in the cold wind.
At the entrance of the clothing store behind him, the fat boss waved enthusiastically:
“Take care, sir!
Welcome back anytime!”
Dar didn’t look back, stiffly raising his hand, pretending to be cool as he dove into the crowd.
“Damn it…
I feel like I’ve been scammed.”
Dar touched the coat on his body, feeling more heartache the more he thought about it.
Eight million Berries; no matter how he looked at it, this crappy piece of clothing wasn’t worth that price.
Forget it.
Money is just a bastard; if it’s gone, you just make more.
The priority now is to exchange the bounty.
I have to admit, this eight-million-Berry coat is really cool.
Walking down the street, the head-turning rate was off the charts; men, women, young, and old were all glancing at him.
“Who is this idiot?
Wearing a fur coat in this hot weather.”
Walking on the street, Dar felt something was still missing.
It wasn’t until he passed an optical shop and paid a high price for a pair of oversized black sunglasses, which he put on his face.
It felt right instantly.
Coat, sunglasses, patterned boxers—
The wildest mix-and-match in the pirate world was born.
Dar found a secluded alley, took Captain Rody’s corpse out of the system space, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and strode toward the Marine branch.
Marine branch.
The sergeant in charge of registration finished reviewing the documents and looked up at Dar:
“Young man, this bounty amount is too large.
According to regulations, it must be reported to headquarters for verification, which will take one day.
Come back tomorrow to collect it.”
“Fine, tomorrow it is.”
Dar reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, handed one over, and chuckled, “Brother, let me ask, what are the benefits like in the Marine?”
The sergeant took the cigarette, and Dar immediately leaned in to light it for him.
The middle-aged Marine took a deep puff, exhaled a ring of smoke, and sized him up:
“What, you want to join the Marine?”
“Absolutely,” Dar said seriously.
“Why be a freelancer when a government job is better?”
The middle-aged Marine was amused:
“Benefits depend on strength and seniority.
As a sergeant, I make 100,000 Berries a month.
It’s not much, but it’s stable, and they provide food and housing.”
Dar’s eyes lit up instantly:
“Is there enough food?
I have a huge appetite.”
The middle-aged Marine laughed out loud:
“We’re in a line of work where we lick blood off the blade; who would risk their life for you if you weren’t fed?
Don’t worry, all you can eat!”
He patted Dar on the shoulder.
“We’re short on hands right now.
If you’re willing, I’ll submit an application for you.”
Dar felt as if he had instantly found his life’s calling.
Nothing else mattered; the words “all you can eat” hit his vital spot.
With his bottomless appetite, joining the Marine was simply the optimal solution.
However, he still had to go to the East Blue to complete his system task.
After finishing his business, joining the Marine in the East Blue wouldn’t be bad either.
After all, it’s known as the “weakest sea,” with fewer missions, more safety, and he could eat his fill.
“Brother, I have to go to the East Blue to handle some business first.” Dar scratched his head.
“When I get back, I’ll definitely join the organization.”
He was just about to chat a bit more when footsteps suddenly came from the doorway, so Dar had to take his leave:
“Brother, you go ahead and get busy, I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
Just as Dar left, a young man walked in through the doorway.
He was also wearing a fur coat, with a meticulously slicked-back hairstyle, dress pants, and leather shoes.
He stood straight and tall, followed by two fierce-looking bodyguards.
He glanced at Dar’s weirdly dressed back, and the corner of his mouth curled into a sneer:
What kind of class is that?
He doesn’t deserve to wear the same coat as me.
The young man turned to look at the middle-aged Marine, his tone arrogant:
“Hey, Reed.
I heard that Rody of the Rody Pirate Crew is dead?”
Upon seeing this “ancestor,” Sergeant Reed immediately stood up and bowed and scraped:
“Oh my, Young Master Thorne!
Why are you here?
Rody is indeed dead; it was that young man who just left who killed him.”
Thorne raised an eyebrow, his face full of disdain:
“Him?
He hasn’t even grown his hair out yet; he probably just picked up the kill.”
He commanded directly, “You listen here, when you report it, change the name to mine.
I’ll come to collect the bounty tomorrow.”
32 million Berries is not a small amount.
Recently his dad has been strict, so it’s a good time to make some money to spend.
Reed’s expression was troubled:
“Young Master Thorne, this…
isn’t according to the rules.”
Before Thorne could speak, one of his bodyguards stepped forward, emitting a sharp sense of oppression, and said coldly:
“Young Master Thorne’s word is the rule.
Do you understand?”
Reed was so frightened by that aura that he trembled and nodded quickly:
“Yes, yes, yes!
I’ll change it right now!
I’ll change it to Young Master Thorne’s name!”
“You’re sensible.”
Thorne snorted coldly and turned to leave with his bodyguards.
Reed looked at his back and sighed secretly.
What a pity for that honest young man…
Hopefully, nothing happens to him.
Just as Thorne walked out of the Marine branch, he took out a den den mushi.
“Bolu—bolu—bolu—”
After it connected, a burly man with a full beard and a missing front tooth appeared on the screen, his attitude respectful and ingratiating:
“Young Master Thorne, you’ve finally contacted me.”
“Black,” Thorne said coldly.
“30 million Berries, have someone deliver it to my estate immediately.
I will handle your business.”
The person on the other end was silent for a moment, then said with a bitter face:
“Young Master, 30 million is really too much; I can’t come up with it right now…
Can it be a bit less?”
Thorne’s expression turned gloomy instantly, his voice as cold as ice:
“Since you came to me, you don’t have the right to bargain.
You’d better get this straight—
If I’m not happy, my father will be angry.
If my father is angry, you can’t afford the consequences.”
The person on the other end went completely silent.
After a long time, a fawning voice trying hard to sound calm came through:
“Hehe…
Young Master, you’re joking.
I’ll prepare the money right now and send it to you immediately.”
Thorne hung up the den den mushi, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold, sinister smile.
32 million Berries would soon be his.
As for that tacky young man wearing a coat with flip-flops?
He didn’t take him seriously at all.