Refined Chapter:
Eustass Kidd.
A name Maude recognized instantly. In the fragmented memories of his past life, Kidd stood alongside figures like Luffy and Zoro as part of the infamous "Worst Generation" – supernova pirates notorious for their power and brutality. Kidd himself was known for his ruthlessness, someone who wouldn't hesitate in doing what must be done.
Maude reflexively cataloged him as a potential target for the Hunter's Notes, but practicality tempered the instinct. He wasn't suicidal. If the conditions were right, if the risk was manageable, he'd gladly harvest whatever strength or insight he could from someone like Kidd. But if conditions weren't right. He wouldn't gamble recklessly, especially not now, when he was utterly powerless.
The world of One Piece...
Maude lowered his head slightly, hiding the complex emotions in his eyes. Seeing a younger Eustass Kidd here was jarringly unexpected. It acted like a key, unlocking dormant knowledge of this world – memories that would be invaluable fuel for his Hunter's Notes later on.
The arrival of Maude and Sunny momentarily paused the crackling confrontation. Kidd shot a sideways glance at the silent, head-bowed Maude, dismissing him instantly. How could he know this seemingly frail boy had already marked him as future prey? If he did, he'd likely just scoff in disdain.
Ignoring Maude, Kidd turned his glare back to Sol. "Tch," he spat rudely, "Where'd you drag this one from? Another free laborer? Wonder how he'll bite it this time. Probably hacked to pieces and left to rot in some alley."
"Oh, Mad Hatter Town has no shortage of 'undertakers'," Sol countered, his time-worn face impassive. He tapped his ornate pipe, letting ash drift carelessly to the floorboards. "With them around, even if this little fellow gets chopped into bits, they'll find something of value. So you see, as long as one dies... profitably, it doesn't matter if I personally gain nothing."
Sol's gaze shifted back to Kidd, a shrewd glint in his eyes. "Speaking of labor... I still have high hopes for you, Kidd. Work for me. Not just Keanu's guns – I could get you Salaman's blades too. A steady supply of the West Sea's finest liquor..."
"Get lost!" Kidd snarled. "I don't answer to anyone."
"A pity," Sol sighed, shaking his head with mock regret.
Maude absorbed the exchange, extracting key details. Mad Hatter Town? West Sea? Combined with the earlier gunshots and the casual talk of street killings and undertakers, it painted a picture of a lawless, pirate-infested black-market zone. His eyes subtly scanned the shop's shelves, packed with knives, guns, and various weaponry. A weapons store, then. And Sol, the diminutive owner, seemed fixated on a cynical philosophy of 'value.'
'Tread carefully', Maude reminded himself. As a newcomer, observation and silence were his best tools.
Sol seemed to notice Maude's quiet composure, a flicker of interest in his aged eyes. He hopped down from behind the counter. Only then did Maude realize the old man barely reached a meter in height. A quick glance at the counter, easily over a meter and a half tall, confirmed Sol must have been standing on a stool to look Kidd even remotely in the eye.
The verbal sparring had clearly worn down Kidd's already thin patience. He glowered at the tiny figure who had emerged from behind the counter. "Are you selling that gun or not?" he demanded, his voice tight with frustration.
Sol peered up, glancing pointedly at the bulging sack of Berries Kidd clutched. "Where'd you get the money?"
A vein pulsed on Kidd's forehead. "None of your damn business! Sell it or not?!" If he didn't know Sol possessed some hidden strength, he would have already resorted to violence.
Sol, however, seemed utterly unfazed by Kidd's mounting fury. He took a leisurely drag from his pipe. "Like I said," he replied calmly, "I wouldn't sell Keanu's gun to you even if I dismantled it and tossed it in the dump."
More veins popped on Kidd's forehead. "Then throw it away!" he roared.
Tap, tap. Sol knocked his pipe against the counter edge. "I will. When I pick a suitably dramatic day."
"You old fossil!!!" Kidd visibly fought to contain his rage. Sol, in contrast, remained infuriatingly placid.
Maude watched, realizing Sol was far more formidable than his appearance suggested. Kidd, known for his explosive temper, was actually restraining himself. This old man wasn't just eccentric; he was dangerous. Maude could almost feel the weary resignation radiating from Sunny beside him.
From Sunny's perspective, Sol, though obsessed with money, wasn't the type to bow to it. He detested rudeness. If a customer approached politely, Keanu's gun wasn't off-limits – price met, sale made. Kidd knew this, yet stubbornly refused to moderate his abrasive approach, leading to this recurring farce. What Sunny couldn't fathom was why Sol, who usually prioritized profit, tolerated Kidd's attitude time and again. What 'value' did Sol see in this volatile young pirate?
Unable to gain any ground, Kidd finally gave up, clutching his bag of money. He spun around, stomping towards the kicked-in doorway.
"No need to see you out," Sol called after his retreating back, tone flat.
Kidd didn't look back. He reached the threshold, then froze.
CRASH!
The other half of the double door exploded inward, kicked open by a burly man wielding a bloody machete. The splintered wood slammed against the wall, barely holding together.
The newcomer reeked of iron and a chilling, suffocating aura. He'd clearly just finished a killing spree. His eyes immediately locked onto the bulging sack in Kidd's hand, and a cold, predatory glint sharpened his features.
"Took me a while to find you, brat," he snarled, teeth bared.
"And which stray dog are you?" Kidd retorted coolly, turning to face the threat, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips.
Behind the counter, Sol squinted, first at the door Kidd had demolished, then at the newly destroyed one. His expression darkened, frost gathering in his eyes. Annoyance radiated from him.
The man with the machete ignored everyone else, focusing solely on Kidd. He brandished his blade. "I am 'Executioner' Evan Watt! Bounty: 11 million Berries—"
SMACK!
Before Watt could finish his practiced introduction, Sol appeared behind him in a blur Maude barely tracked. A single, sharp slap echoed through the shop, and the large man crumpled, unconscious.
Kidd's eyes widened slightly. He'd been closest, yet even he hadn't fully seen Sol move. This old bastard... definitely not someone to mess with.
Sol landed lightly, dusting off his hands. Given his height, hitting Watt's head required a surprising leap. He ignored the unconscious form at his feet, turning his flat gaze on Kidd, who remained rooted near the doorway. "What?" Sol asked mildly. "Still want to stay for dinner?"
Kidd's jaw tightened. Without a word, he turned and strode out into the chaotic street.
Sol watched him go, then casually nudged the nearly destroyed door closed with his foot.
Sunny moved to Sol's side. "I think you're too 'generous' with Kidd," she murmured.
"Generous?" Sol chuckled, turning to her. "Perhaps 'partial' is a better word."
"Yeah," Sunny agreed, already efficiently searching the unconscious Watt for valuables. "I think you're far too 'partial' to Kidd."
"Haha." Sol picked up the blood-stained machete Watt had dropped, wiping it clean on a rag seemingly produced from nowhere. "This world isn't fair, Sunny. Never was. Black, white, gray... it's all mixed up. If I show favoritism, it's because I see value worth favoring." By the time he finished speaking, the machete was wiped clean and placed onto a nearby shelf, instantly becoming another item for sale.
Maude watched their practiced, almost ghoulish efficiency in stripping valuables and processing the situation with a sense of detached awe.
Setting down the cleaned machete, Sol walked over to the downed pirate and nudged him with his foot. "Head's still worth a few Berries," he muttered regretfully, "shame I can't cash it in myself. What was his name again?"
"Evan Watt," Sunny supplied, placing the loot she'd collected onto the counter. "Captain of the Ghost Knife Pirates. Calls himself 'The Executioner.' Known swordsman in the West Sea, bounty 11 million." As Mad Hatter Town's unofficial intelligence broker, she calmly finished the introduction Sol had interrupted.
"Ah." Sol rubbed his chin, then his gaze suddenly fixed on the quiet, unassuming Maude.
"You. Come here."
Maude met Sol's sharp look and walked over without a word.
Sol reached up, patting Maude firmly on the knee. "Show some respect for your elders, boy," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Need me to tell you to sit down?"
The corner of Maude's mouth twitched. Understanding dawned. He immediately sat cross-legged on the floor, bringing his eye level down to match Sol's.
Finally meeting Maude's gaze directly, Sol nodded with satisfaction, scrutinizing him up close. Maude's consistent calm, even amidst the chaos, was impressive. Not the typical reaction of an ordinary boy caught in such circumstances.
"Name?" Sol asked curtly.
"Bacardi Maude." It was the name from the photo's signature. Using it saved him the trouble of inventing an alias for now.
"That surname..." Sol murmured, glancing reflexively at Sunny.
"Wine merchants," Sunny supplied instantly.
"Oh! Right," Sol exclaimed, recognition dawning. "Decent rum. Saw them in the papers recently, didn't we? Merchant ship hit by pirates, family killed, no survivors."
Sunny nodded. "That's the one."
"Well now," Sol turned back to Maude, his eyes narrowing slowly, thoughtfully. "Isn't that interesting."
After a moment, before Maude could anticipate his next move, Sol suddenly produced a small knife, barely larger than a paring knife. He offered it to Maude, handle first, a faint, unreadable smile on his face.
"Time to say goodbye to the past, Bacardi Maude. Kill this fellow, Watt."
Maude's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He took the offered knife without the slightest hesitation. "No problem."
Outwardly calm, internally, Maude felt a surge of grim satisfaction. An opportunity, delivered right to his doorstep.
He looked down at the unconscious Evan Watt. I'll remember you, Maude thought silently. Executioner Evan Watt, 11 million Berries. A flicker of cold acknowledgment, almost respect, passed through him.
Sol watched Maude's straightforward acceptance, his satisfaction growing. This boy had potential.
Then, Maude spoke, his voice even. "I need to use the restroom first."
"..." Sol stared.
"..." Sunny blinked.