Worthless Rabble!

Worthless Rabble!

Mercer lowered his eyelids, staring fixedly at Bogard as his lips moved soundlessly.

Bogard knew what those two words were.

"Traitor."

Bogard instantly ground his teeth in anger and blurted out, "No, Little Mercer, how does that make me a traitor? You were the one who exchanged Gold Beans for money at the exchange, then bought clothes outside. Your grandfather asked whether I'd bought them for you. I said no. Then he asked where your money came from, so I told him the truth. How is that my fault?"

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have asked you to come out that day. Anyone else could've done it. I called you over just to show us the way, then even treated you to a meal afterward. You promised to keep it secret, but in the end, you sold me out the moment you turned around."

Listening to Mercer's rapid-fire complaints, Bogard felt a little awkward. After all, he had handled this poorly. He could only say helplessly, "How about I treat you to something later? Consider it an apology. Don't be mad. Your grandfather isn't an outsider, is he?"

"I'm not mad. Are you serious?" Mercer narrowed his eyes at him. "My appetite isn't small. Are you sure you want to treat me to good food?"

Bogard rolled his eyes and sighed helplessly.

"I'm sure. I keep my word."

"Tch. Last time, you said you'd keep it secret too, but then you sold me out right away."

"I don't think you have even the slightest talent for keeping secrets. You should quit the Marines. If you ever get so poor you can't afford food, I'll reluctantly take you in as my house guard."

Bogard's face turned green, while Garp watched with a cheerful grin. Seeing Bogard's pleading look, Garp laughed. "Then treat me to something too."

Bogard sighed and touched the pocket of his suit. He should have enough Beli, right?

Bogard understood Garp's freeloading. His superior's pockets were probably cleaner than his face. Over the past few years, all of Garp's salary and allowances had gone toward buying medicinal ingredients for the child in front of them, and Bogard had been the one helping procure them.

They were sent to Drum Island every year.

Sigh!

After dawdling for a while longer, by the time the three of them reached the deck, there was hardly anyone left on the warship besides those on watch.

Garp muttered, "Those little brats can't even hold on to a bit of spare change, yet they still dream of marrying the female Marines on Tsuru's ship. Keep dreaming."

"Those female Marines have plenty of suitors. Guys like them, who can't save money, should just keep daydreaming."

"Bogard, don't learn from them. If you want one of Tsuru's female Marines as a wife, you'd better save up properly. If your conditions are too poor, I'd be too embarrassed to ask Tsuru on your behalf."

Bogard's face turned green again, and the corners of his mouth twitched violently. "Then please don't ask. I like the gentle type. Vice Admiral Tsuru's female Marines are too fierce for my taste."

"Oh~ So you like the soft and cute type. Do you like living off a woman?" Mercer chuckled softly. "Makes sense. The delicate, soft-bodied kind, all sweet and tender—they'd stir up your protective instincts, Uncle."

Bogard's face darkened. Looking at the grandfather and grandson, he only felt his fists harden.

But...

He couldn't beat the grandfather.

And he didn't dare hit the grandson.

There was only one word for them: shameless!

With a dark face, he got off the warship and quickened his pace, wanting nothing more than to escape the two of them sooner.

But only a few seconds later, Mercer's voice rang out.

"Uncle Bogard, why are you running so fast? Did you forget you promised to treat us to a feast?"

"Yeah, Bogard, slow down. You young people really don't know how to respect the elderly and care for the young."

"Thanks so much," Bogard said, slowing down wearily. "I didn't forget. Can't you two hurry up? This old man and child are practically demons."

The three left the harbor and walked down the bustling streets. Neon lights gleamed everywhere, and all kinds of shouts and hawkers' cries filled the air. Stalls of every sort lined both sides of the road.

Before long, Mercer was holding quite a few snacks.

It truly was worthy of being called the capital of food. With so many classic delicacies, one could practically swallow their own tongue.

It was completely different from the food on the warship.

Meals on the warship prioritized balanced nutrition first, and only then ensured that the ingredients looked, smelled, and tasted good.

Here, however, everything existed for the sake of flavor. The dishes came in endless varieties, with perfect color, aroma, and taste.

Mercer was dazzled. He sampled one dish after another, while Garp was no less enthusiastic. Since he didn't have to pay, he simply ate his way down the street.

Bogard trailed behind them, looking like he wanted to cry. He should have known. Like grandfather, like grandson. He had clearly underestimated the pair.

Mercer stripped a skewer of octopus tentacles clean in one bite, chewed, and swallowed. He took a deep breath, sensing the movements of his stomach and intestines. He quickened his breathing and enhanced his digestive function.

With Breath Gift greatly improving his control over his own body, Mercer could now naturally make slight adjustments to his internal organs.

He had already begun to show signs of Return of Life. As his digestion accelerated and nutrients were absorbed into his body, Mercer felt warm all over. His slightly bulging stomach quickly flattened again.

Chuckling, Mercer continued doing his best to eat Bogard's wallet empty.

First came snacks, then desserts, followed by all kinds of staple dishes. Item after item disappeared into Mercer and Garp's stomachs. Bogard, who had to pay afterward, looked utterly dazed—and before long, he joined in as well.

He could tell that the grandfather and Grandson were trying to eat his wallet dry. Thinking of that, Bogard muttered to himself that he couldn't let the two of them succeed. He couldn't keep taking losses.

Return of Life, go.

And so—

A striking sight appeared.

An old, middle-aged, and young trio went everywhere, stuffing themselves senseless.

They looked exactly like a group of gourmand outsiders who had come to Puji to show off.

As a result, quite a few people noticed the trio.

They spent money like water.

Cheap or expensive, as long as it tasted good, they would eat their fill before moving on to the next place.

Malicious gazes continuously swept over them, but upon seeing the two adults—one built like a bear, the other in a suit and tie with a sword at his waist—many petty thieves were deterred.

Who knew how long had passed? As they walked down the street, eating candied hawthorn skewers to aid digestion, Bogard edged closer with an awkward expression, fidgeting uneasily.

"Um, Mercer, are you full yet? You've eaten quite a lot too. How about we go to the beach and get some air?"

The northwest wind?

Seeing this, Garp's lips curled into a smile, though he quietly watched Mercer instead, wanting to see what his eldest Grandson would do next.

Mercer smiled as well.

"Uncle Bogard, your pockets are empty now, right? Want to spend my money next?"

"You don't want to?"

"Oh, then forget it."

Bogard stared at Mercer in bewilderment. He hadn't even said anything yet—how had this kid already started asking and answering his own questions?

Bogard said, "I—"

Mercer sighed and shot Bogard a fierce glare. "I know you don't want to spend my money. I know it's your principle as an adult. You care about saving face."

No, that's not it. I can give up that principle. I don't need my pride either, Bogard roared inwardly, only to hear Mercer continue.

"Fine, then I'll give you a chance. Just quietly follow behind me later. How much you can earn will depend on your luck."

Then Mercer tugged on Garp's arm and sweetly acted cute. "Grandfather, I need to pee. I saw a restroom just now. Wait for me, okay? I'll come back and find you soon."

With that, Mercer released Garp's arm and skipped away, vanishing into the crowd behind them.

Garp looked at Bogard with a peculiar expression, grinning as he said happily, "Hey, brat, was that Child Mercer acting cute with me just now? For the first time, too. Puhahaha!"

Bogard looked on the verge of collapse. "Didn't you hear what that Child said just now? I'd bet anything that he's planning to cause trouble. Aren't you worried?"

Garp looked utterly unconcerned and patted his pocket. "Isn't that what you're here for? Mercer's yours to handle. I'm off to have fun."

Garp strode away with the air of a man flush with cash, then waved at Bogard a few seconds later.

He was utterly carefree and unrestrained.

Bogard glared viciously at Garp and ground his teeth. Then he spread out his Observation Haki and located Mercer's Aura.

He slowly took deep breaths, drawing ample oxygen into every corner of his body and providing it with an endless supply of vitality.

It also helped ease the shame from deliberately acting cute earlier.

His Observation Haki sensed one piercing gaze after another, along with completely undisguised greed.

One, two, three, ten.

One group, two groups, three groups.

Who was the prey?

And who was the hunter?

This world had no old martial-world saying about never underestimating the elderly and children.

The elderly and children naturally represented weakness.

A fair-skinned, handsome Child from a family that spent extravagantly, separated from his relatives and left alone—everything about him told the island's thugs and hooligans that a fat, juicy fish had appeared.

Whether he had money on him didn't matter.

Beli had never been the only thing of value.

As long as his body was healthy, that was enough.

Being good-looking was even better.

There were plenty of places where he could be sold.

Leading the ill-intentioned people behind him along, Mercer walked farther and farther from the main roads until he finally stopped in an alley slightly off the main street.

Mercer steadied himself in a corner piled with trash, precisely pulled out his tool, and comfortably took care of an important matter in life.

Nearly twenty seconds passed.

Mercer gave himself a shake.

"Phew, I wasn't lying."

He put away the tool of the crime, turned, and walked out of the corner. Just as expected, the road ahead had been blocked.

One, two, three... ten.

There were ten people in total, split into three groups. They seemed to be acquaintances who all knew one another, silently blocking the passage some ten-odd meters away.

Mercer looked at them, and they looked at Mercer.

Observation Haki saw through their bodies. Finding no firearms, Mercer walked over and stopped three meters away from them.

"Sorry, gentlemen, please make way and let me through."

At that, the silent crowd exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.

"I told you, didn't I? This brat must be an idiot. He ran this far just to take a piss."

"Hehehe, but he's got delicate skin and a clean, fair face. I heard those noble lords and ladies are really into this sort."

"Hey, hey, hey, we agreed to take turns. This little thing belongs to our Profit Society this time, so don't even think about going back on your word."

The three groups were clearly both partners and rivals, and they had apparently been working together for quite some time. From their tone, they had plainly already regarded Mercer as something in their grasp.

A middle-aged man stepped out of the crowd and reached for Mercer's neck, as though Mercer had been scared stiff.

The middle-aged man cursed as he spoke. "Heh, you lot sure talk a lot. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we're finished. Hurry up and sell him for cash, I—ugh, aaah!"

Though there was caution in his eyes, just as he was about to grab Mercer by the neck—

Mercer flashed aside from his hand, stepped forward with his left foot, and viciously kicked upward with his right. Accompanied by a faint whoosh, the kick landed heavily between his legs.

Crack.

As the man bent over with a miserable scream, Mercer drew back his left palm and immediately fired an upward palm strike into his chin.

With strength no weaker than that of a grown, burly man, he sent him sprawling to the ground in an instant.

His head slammed against the ground, and he passed out.

Mercer calmly looked at the remaining nine. His tranquil eyes were filled with utter indifference.

The brief exchange had only let them see that the middle-aged man had let his guard down and been struck in the groin.

Of course, Mercer's highly deceptive appearance had something to do with it as well.

Furious curses immediately erupted.

"Bastard, Brat, you're courting death!"

"Haha, you've got some moves. That just makes you more valuable. Don't damage his face, everyone. End this quickly."

"That's right. This little thing is pretty capable, so those two people must be capable too. Finish this fast, or his family might come looking for him."

Mercer dodged another reaching hand. At some point, a scalpel had appeared in his right hand, and he precisely sliced through the crook of the man's elbow.

Blood sprayed through the air.

Mercer nimbly weaved through the crowd, avoiding attack after attack as he threw punches and kicks. Dull impacts rang out, the scalpel slashed and cut, and with Observation Haki, he predicted their movements in advance, using his small stature to dart between them.

Miserable screams, curses, cries for help!

As he ducked low and closed in, the sharp scalpel severed their hamstrings and wrist tendons one cut at a time. Heavy kicks struck their groins with precision. More than ten seconds later, Mercer appeared behind them.

Of the remaining nine, some had fainted, while others lay miserably on the ground, crying and wailing. There was not a trace left of their earlier swagger.

Tap!

Just as the dust settled, a figure dropped down from the wall above the alley. He stared in astonishment at the calm-faced Mercer and the miserable scene before him.

"You're late." Mercer glanced at Bogard and said flatly, "You don't get a share of this extra money."

Bogard's eye twitched. A complaint lodged in his throat, impossible to swallow, and he could only stiffly force out one word. "Fine."

Mercer ignored Bogard and stepped forward to begin looting them. He started with those who had passed out, pulling out stacks of Beli in various denominations.

Some were small bills, some large.

Then Mercer saw that the few who had not yet fainted were taking every valuable thing they had from their pockets, their faces filled with terror.

"D-Don't, don't, don't kill me! I'll give you all my money! Please, spare me!"

"Y-Yeah, me too! I have money! I'll give you all my Beli!"

"I have an eighty-year-old mother above me and a—aaagh!"

The one who mentioned his "eighty-year-old mother" was kicked in the mouth by Mercer. With a crack, a mouthful of teeth mixed with blood sprayed out, silencing the words that made Mercer sick to his stomach.

"I heard you wanted to sell me?" Faint traces of blood still glimmered on the scalpel in Mercer's hand. "I'm curious. Can you tell me where you planned to sell me?"

Mercer crouched beside a man who was clearly in the same group as the middle-aged man from before. He had been shouting the loudest from the start.

The scalpel sliced open the corner of his eye, and a thin stream of blood flowed out. Looking at his wide, staring eyes, Mercer smiled.

The man being watched shuddered.

"Talk. There should be more than just you in your group, right? If you dare lie, I'll gouge out your eyes. One lie, one eye. Let's see how many eyes you have. Profit Society, right?"

The man's lips trembled.

"I-I'll talk. Hah..."

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