Mad Hatter Town. A notorious cesspool in the West Sea, a chaotic hub where pirates dealt their ill-gotten gains and shadowy figures thrived. It was a place teeming with danger and opportunity, a microcosm of the lawless seas. Underground organizations held deep roots here, fostering a flourishing ecosystem of black markets and illicit industries.
This volatile state was largely a consequence of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, whose final words ignited the Great Pirate Era. Yet, the town's existence boiled down to a simple, brutal cycle fueled by human desire: Pirates plundered wealth from ships and settlements. Underground bosses then devised ways to skillfully relieve those pirates of their spoils. Mad Hatter Town, a lawless nexus where anything could be bought or sold, became the natural epicenter for this exchange.
Slaves, organs, weapons, pleasure districts – ventures that would shock the ordinary folk were commonplace here. Among the many grim professions thriving in Mad Hatter Town was that of the [Undertaker]. Their primary role was corpse collection, though they occasionally doubled as crude surgeons, maintaining a direct, if morbid, cooperative relationship with organ traffickers.
Arthur, summoned by Sunny to deal with Watt's body, was one such Undertaker. He wasn't the most influential, perhaps, but certainly one of the most active. He had been the one to treat Maude when Sol first brought the boy back, barely clinging to life.
Seeing Maude awake and standing now clearly surprised Arthur, the man responsible for his initial treatment.
"What do you mean, 'actually woke up'?" Sol's voice sharpened instantly, his gaze turning sharp and unfriendly towards Arthur. He hadn't forgotten Arthur's initial assessment. It was Arthur who had claimed Maude had a better than 50% chance of recovery, persuading Sol to invest in the treatment. Sol had reasoned that even if the boy didn't wake up, selling him off to the black market would allow him to recoup most of the cost.
Now, it seemed clear that Maude's odds had likely been far slimmer than advertised.
Caught in his slip of the tongue by the wily old Sol, Arthur simply shrugged, offering a nonchalant admission. "If I hadn't said that, how would I have gotten your business?"
"You damn profiteer!" Sol snapped, though without real heat.
"Takes one to know one," Arthur countered calmly, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. Perhaps it was the mask, or perhaps genuine thick skin, but he seemed entirely unbothered. "Anyway, you still profited. Baseline price for a human slave is 500,000 Berries. You only paid 50,000 for the treatment. Be content."
"Maude isn't a slave," Sunny interjected quietly, correcting Arthur's assumption. He's a coolie, she left unsaid.
Arthur glanced briefly at Sunny but didn't reply. He abandoned his examination of Watt's corpse and walked towards Maude.
Watching Arthur approach, Maude instinctively tensed. This guy radiated a dangerous aura. Arthur was tall and broad, his presence looming over Maude's slighter frame. He peered down at the bandage on Maude's forehead, then suddenly reached out, his fingers aiming to grab the dressing.
Maude, already wary, reacted instantly, stepping back smoothly, evading the grasp.
"Oh?" A flicker of surprise showed in Arthur's visible eyes. His movement had been fast and unexpected. He hadn't anticipated the supposedly frail boy could react so quickly. Based on his initial diagnosis, even if Maude woke up, his motor control should have been impaired. Recovering this well, this fast... it wasn't normal.
The surprise faded, replaced by a calculating glint. Excellent self-healing... resilient. This was prime merchandise, the kind certain clientele paid top Berry for, far exceeding standard market rates.
Arthur took a step forward, intending to get a closer look, to further assess Maude's physical condition.
The next moment, he froze.
He turned his head slightly, meeting Sol's expressionless gaze from behind the counter. The old man was silently puffing on his pipe, but the look directed at Arthur felt tangible, heavy with unspoken warning. Arthur realized instantly: this seemingly ordinary boy had already caught Sol's interest. Trying to negotiate him into becoming a commodity was no longer an option.
Regret flickered, but Arthur swiftly suppressed the thought. "Apologies," he said, his tone shifting back to professional neutrality. "Seeing a patient I treated recover so well... got a bit excited. Almost forgot my current role as an Undertaker." He offered the flimsy excuse for his presumptuous action and immediately returned to Watt's corpse, resuming his work.
Sol's sharp gaze softened slightly. While being deceived about the odds annoyed him, he didn't doubt Arthur's professional competence. He knew the money spent on treatment had actually been used for that purpose. Theirs was a long, albeit cynical, association.
Maude watched Arthur's back, a flicker of calculation in his own eyes. 'Arthur... noted.'
Beside him, Sunny tilted her head, looking at Maude's profile, a silent question forming in her eyes.
Kneeling by the corpse, Arthur examined the fatal wounds, then deftly produced a thin needle and thread, seemingly from his collar. "Heart's punctured multiple times," he stated clinically. "Can only offer you 60% of the standard market price for the parts."
"Fine, fine. Just hurry up and get it out of here," Sol waved dismissively, exhaling a stream of smoke.
Arthur wasted no more words. His right hand, holding the needle, became a blur over the wounds on Watt's chest. In mere moments, the ragged gashes were neatly stitched shut with practiced, economical movements.
Watching Arthur's technique, Maude couldn't help but recall a woman from his past life, a deadly assassin who wielded needles and threads with terrifying skill. 'Damn.',
He thought grimly. How can this guy, barely a footnote in the grand scheme of things, possess such dexterity? And Sol, despite his size, clearly holds significant power. This was just the West Sea... What awaited in the Grand Line, the New World?
Maude's assessment of the world's dangers grew heavier. He needed to choose his future hunts with extreme caution. One misstep, and the hunter could easily become the hunted.
(In truth, Maude might have been overestimating the average strength level. Birds of a feather flock together; those who associated with someone like Sol were unlikely to be mere weaklings. Finding another retired powerhouse like Sol hiding in a remote place like Mad Hatter Town wouldn't be easy.)
After stitching the corpse, Arthur placed a small stack of Berries on the counter and efficiently hoisted the body onto his shoulder, heading for the door.
Once Arthur had departed, the shop door was closed and barred, signaling an early end to the day's business.
The task of cleaning the bloodstains, naturally, fell to Maude. Despite his gnawing hunger and thirst, he knew better than to complain. Thankfully, Sunny, apparently accepting him as a colleague of sorts, silently offered him a dense, dry cake and a cup of water.
Maude gratefully devoured the cake and gulped down the water, finally easing the emptiness in his stomach. Then, he picked up a mop and bucket and began scrubbing the blood from the floorboards.
Sol had already retreated upstairs to his room. Sunny, however, remained. The counter had two stools: a low one Sol used to stand on, and a taller one for sitting. Sunny perched on the low stool, resting her chin in her hands, quietly watching Maude work.
She waited until he had finished cleaning, the floorboards mostly free of the grim evidence of the earlier violence. Then, she finally voiced the question that had been lingering.
"How did you dodge that?"
"Hm?" Maude looked up, pausing his work, a questioning look on his face.