Special Paramecia (Part 1)

"Patriarch John? Kid, have you drunk yourself stupid? It's Patriarch Mike."

Patriarch John was one of the five great Mafia bosses of the West Sea. He was a godfather, not someone addressed as a patriarch.

Boss Cani froze, as though forcing his brain to think, then finally nodded.

Patriarch Mike was the boss of the Mafia Carlos belonged to. Though he was nothing much in the West Sea, much less the entire world, on Iron Island he was a true big shot. Even the city lord, the commander of the Steel Self-Defense Force, and Commander Doni of the Iron Island Marine Branch sometimes had to show him some respect!

After confirming the information, Carlos's eyes flickered and his expression shifted. A breath later, he drained the red wine in his glass, then clenched his hand and crushed the glass wine cup to pieces!

He was doing it!

He wanted that Devil Fruit!

Even if he had to risk his life, he would take a shot at it!

Devil Fruits could grant people immense power. He did not know whether the martial arts he possessed had reached their limit, nor did he know where that limit was... Even if he wished to live an ordinary life, he could not. This was not a peaceful world. Without power, even wanting an ordinary life was impossible. A minor storm could easily destroy your family and kill you!

He, Chou Xiao Chi—he, Lucifer Carlos—had always striven to better himself. He would never entrust his future, fate, or survival to another person's kindness or protection. He himself would always be the most reliable one!

Having made up his mind, Carlos looked at the drunken Cani and approached him with a grin, bottle in hand. He slung an arm around Cani's shoulders, but his other hand moved to an acupoint on the back of Cani's neck. With a hard press, Cani instantly passed out. He had already been dead drunk to begin with.

Carlos then paced around the tavern, checking whether everyone had gotten completely drunk. Anyone still conscious was silently knocked out.

The Clover Tavern was a private tavern that did not serve outsiders. It only entertained Mafia Members and had private rooms. Of course, customers still had to pay, though the prices were much cheaper, charging only at cost.

There were simply too many drunk people here. When there were no combat assignments, this happened every day. The tavern staff had long grown used to it and would not deal with them. They would wake up the next day anyway, and only then would the staff clean up.

Of course, the tavern staff sometimes came in to fetch wine or check whether anyone had any requests.

So, to be safe, after making sure no one was conscious, Carlos found someone with a similar build, changed into his clothes, and lay facedown on the table beside Cani. He adjusted their positions to ensure that anyone who happened to enter would not see their faces.

Finally, he washed his face with cold water to clear his head, sober up, and get rid of the smell of alcohol. After changing into another set of clothes, he climbed over the wall and secretly left the Clover Tavern...

His target was the villa where the Mike Clan lived. They would never feel secure keeping something as priceless as a Devil Fruit far from their side!

At least, with the Mike Clan's wealth, strength, and status, they would only feel secure keeping it close. They were not Celestial Dragons who fed Devil Fruits to slaves for entertainment. The difference in their standing was far too great!

Late at night, there were not many people left on the brightly lit, bustling streets. As long as he was careful to avoid them and stay out of sight, it was not difficult. If he truly could not avoid someone, he would lower his hat, and they would not be able to see his face anyway.

The Mike Clan's influence extended throughout Iron Island, though their main territory was in the eastern part of the island. Their villa stood atop a small hill in the east, backed by the sea and heavily guarded. There were sentry posts from the foot of the hill onward.

After arriving at the foot of the hill, Carlos used the cover of night to observe the guards' positions. He soon had a clear picture. Secretly infiltrating the villa from the foot of the hill was too risky. If he were discovered, the flat terrain would also be unfavorable for escape...

Before thinking about victory, one must consider defeat. Before doing anything, it was best to find a route of retreat for oneself. That might not guarantee invincibility, but at least it would make a comeback easier and keep one's life from being lost so easily!

Thus, Carlos left the foot of the hill, changed direction, circled around, and arrived at the rear of the hill, where it faced the sea.

The hill was only a little over a hundred meters tall. Its rear side was a sheer cliff, difficult to climb, but infiltrating from here would have a much greater chance of success. It was also suitable for retreating.

Bright moonlight spilled over the sea, reflecting a gentle glow. On the yellow beach, a black figure raced across the sand and soon arrived beneath a sheer cliff that rose at nearly a ninety-degree angle.

It was Carlos. He took a deep breath and extended both hands, curling his fingers into eagle claws. He drove them hard into the weathered rock. Splat... His five fingers sank into the stone like iron hooks, and then he began to climb.

He climbed at tremendous speed. With the gripping power of his fingers and the strength of his lower body, Carlos reached the summit in less than five minutes. After resting for a minute, he cautiously headed toward the brightly lit mansion in the distance.

The guards behind the villa were far more lax than those at the foot of the hill. Some chatted, some drank, and some smoked. Their vigilance was pitifully low. Clearly, they had enjoyed peaceful days for too long.

Carlos did not alert them. He climbed over the wall and secretly entered the mansion, hiding in the shadows along a main road as he waited for prey to take the bait...

About ten minutes later, Carlos saw from the shadows a blond, blue-eyed middle-aged man approaching beneath the lights with two followers. Judging from his clothes, the middle-aged man was not Mafia but household staff in the mansion, while the other two were genuine Mafia Members.

The time to act had come!

Once the three entered his attack range, Carlos burst from the shadows. He attacked from behind, extending his eagle claws toward the necks of the two Mafia Members at the rear.

The two Mafia Members sensed that something was wrong and had only just begun to turn their heads when icy eagle claws pressed against their necks. Crack... A sharp pain shot through them, and their bodies went limp as they collapsed.

Killing was no longer unfamiliar to Carlos. After more than half a year in the Mafia, he had become a subordinate leader.

Having cleanly dealt with the two men in an instant, the middle-aged man noticed the disturbance and was about to shout when a Pistol pressed against his head. He had no choice but to swallow his cry for help.

"Don't turn around. I ask, you answer!"

"Gulp... Sir, please ask," the middle-aged man said quietly, unable to stop himself from swallowing.

"Where exactly in this mansion does Patriarch Mike live?"

"Let me make this clear: I will verify it myself."

"If I find that you lied, and I'm not dead, you'll die a miserable death!"

The cold, merciless voice made the middle-aged man tremble all over. He immediately discarded his little schemes and revealed everything he knew.

"Patriarch Mike lives on the top floor of the villa, but he has several wives, so where he rests is never fixed."

"There may be a pattern, but my status is not high enough to know it."

"Thank you!"

"No..."

Crack!

The sound of bones breaking rang out. The middle-aged man's eyes widened violently from the agony, and the next moment, he completely lost consciousness.

"I never said I wouldn't kill you. In matters like this, anyone I encounter, whether they see me or not, has to die!"

"The only difference is whether they die quickly or painfully. At least I did not use the Eagle Claw Technique to tear apart your tendons and dislocate your bones, then crush every bone in your body..."

His cold, resolute words rang out softly as the three corpses were quickly dragged into the shadows.

"Heavens, bless me. That Devil Fruit really exists, has not been eaten, and—as I expected—is being kept at Mike Moxie's side..."

As soon as he finished speaking, Carlos cautiously and patiently crept through the darkness toward the luxurious five-story villa, which covered over a thousand square kilometers...