Spy

The dance club fell silent.

It was a complete mess.

Half a wall had collapsed. Few of the tables, chairs, or sofas remained intact, and the lights flickered erratically.

The floor was riddled with bullet holes.

Gangsters lay sprawled everywhere.

The lucky ones were merely unconscious. The unlucky ones had already gone to meet the King of Hell with Gotti.

The stench of blood mingled with the acrid smell of burnt gunpowder, making people sick.

Drip. Drip.

Dark red blood dripped onto the floor.

Jogo lowered his head and wiped his nose. His palm came away red.

He casually wiped off the blood, unconcerned.

"Hundred Flowers Wither: Ten-Ring Dance" was a killing move he had created himself.

Its core was the "Flower-Flower Fruit."

To activate it, he needed to equip both "Flower-Flower Fruit" and "Otherworldly Soul" onto his Conqueror's Haki.

The former allowed him to fuse several strands of Conqueror's Haki into a stronger one, much like the Flower-Flower Fruit's ability in the anime.

The latter allowed him to precisely control the process, endure the immense expenditure, and... avoid dying on the spot from recklessly using a move beyond his soul's limit.

Even so, his head still throbbed as if a nail had been driven into it.

I'll need to rest for at least two nights before I can use that move again, Jogo thought.

After taking a moment to recover, he walked over to Gotti.

He picked up the curved blade in Gotti's hand, knelt on one knee over him, gripped the hilt in reverse, aimed at his heart, and stabbed down without hesitation.

Then he twisted hard.

Gotti's large body jolted violently as he opened his eyes from unconsciousness.

Seeing the expressionless Jogo before him, he gradually realized what had happened. He gripped the blade with both hands and stared at him in disbelief.

His body trembled violently.

Jogo met his gaze coldly.

His hand clenched the hilt tightly, remaining utterly still no matter how hard Gotti struggled.

Gradually, the light faded from Gotti's eyes. His mouth hung open, and with his hands still gripping the blade, his face twisted savagely as he went still.

A notification surfaced in his mind.

[Obtained trait: "Gangster Hunter (White) - 42%"]

"He's finally dead... Humans in this world really have absurd vitality."

Jogo rose to his feet, wiped his hands, and focused his attention on the [Haki Panel].

"'Gangster Hunter'..."

"It looks like the same type of trait as 'Pirate Hunter.'"

"The progress is pretty fast, though."

Based on his three years of farming weaklings, ordinary lackeys usually provided at most 2% to 5% progress.

"This 'Gangster Hunter' started at 42%."

"I guess that's the Haki Panel acknowledging Gotti's strength."

He casually equipped it to check its effect.

[Trait Effect: Slightly enhances the effect of Conqueror's Haki against gangsters.]

"As expected. It's not much use."

Although it was a powerful specialized bonus, the noble "Flower-Flower Fruit" completely overshadowed it.

"Still, I can look forward to what it does after leveling up later."

Jogo unequipped the trait.

He swept his gaze around, confirming that no one was waking up, before finally letting out a heavy sigh of relief.

This had been the hardest battle of his sixteen years.

Even if he had deliberately been testing how much combat power he possessed without relying on his cheat.

Still, the pressure he had felt from Gotti was very real.

"West Blue's top-tier fighters aren't bad!"

"That deserves a top rating!"

Jogo crouched down and began searching through Gotti's belongings.

"Cigarettes, Beli, a watch... What's this?"

He pulled a brown-covered notebook from the inner pocket of Gotti's suit.

When he opened it, a neatly preserved folded list slid onto the floor.

Jogo bent down to pick it up. The instant his fingertips touched the list, a notification sounded in his mind.

[Obtained trait: "Spy (Blue)"]

"Oh? An extra reward?"

Jogo's eyes lit up.

"Spy... Does that mean I infiltrated the gang by disguising my identity and obtained some important intelligence?"

"This paper is the important intelligence?"

"Wait..."

He suddenly froze, reread the notification, and his eyes widened.

"This is... a blue trait?"

"And it can't be upgraded!"

Hiss—

Completely ignoring the "important intelligence" in his hand, Jogo hurriedly equipped the trait onto his Conqueror's Haki.

Its effect appeared.

[Trait Effect: Anyone affected by your Conqueror's Haki will subconsciously believe that you are a member of their faction.]

Jogo touched his head, sucked in a cold breath, then sucked in another.

This thing directly rewrote the subconscious, didn't it?

"Is this what you'd expect from a noble, non-upgradeable trait?"

"I wonder how far its influence can reach..."

"Either way, this trip was worth it!"

He hurriedly put away the notebook and the paper, then searched Gotti's corpse twice more.

After confirming there was nothing else valuable, he walked to the bar and smashed all the hard liquor from the shelves onto the floor and over the unconscious gangsters.

"Although I kept my Haki contained around the club, Gotti's gunshots probably still drew plenty of attention."

"This isn't a place to linger."

Jogo borrowed a suit from a gangster on the floor with a similar build and used it to cover his wounds.

He hurried to the entrance, then looked back at the blood-soaked devastation inside the club.

Lowering the brim of his hat, he bid the gang members farewell.

"Safe travels, everyone!"

Snap!

A match ignited. With a flick of his finger, it spun through the air and fell toward the floor.

Jogo opened the door and left.

Through the slowly closing gap, flames surged up and viciously licked toward the depths of the club.

Half an hour later, in a coffee shop across the street.

"Your coffee, sir~"

Behind a wooden railing carved with sunflower patterns,

a chestnut-haired waitress with a slender figure carried a tray and lightly set a cup of coffee on Jogo's table.

Her gaze "casually" swept across Jogo's face, and a faint blush rose to her cheeks.

Black hair, black eyes, and such handsome features—customers like that were rare in West Blue.

Not to mention that this customer had an exceptional physique. The open collar of his white shirt faintly revealed firm chest muscles, while his vest emphasized his figure perfectly.

Now he sat by the window looking like someone recovering from a serious illness, relaxed and languid, making hearts flutter all the more.

"Is there anything else you need, sir?" she asked sweetly.

She imperceptibly stepped a little closer. Her skirt, shorter than usual by a small measure, gently brushed over the hand resting at the edge of the table.

At such close range, the warmth of her thigh seemed capable of passing through her stockings and reaching the back of his hand.

"No, thank you."

Jogo picked up his coffee and took a sip without turning around.

His gaze remained fixed on the fiercely burning dance club across the street.

Why else did criminals always like returning to the scene of the crime?

The feeling of admiring one's own handiwork really was addictive.

...But why did someone keep staring at him?

Was I being too obvious?

After a moment, noticing that the waitress still had not left, he turned toward her warily. "Is there something else?"

"No!"

The waitress glared at Jogo, hugged her tray to her chest, and stomped away on her long legs in a huff.

"That's much better."

Jogo watched her leave. After confirming that no one nearby was peeking at him, he pulled the notebook from his pocket.

The notebook recorded the protection payments the Capone Family collected from various gangs.

Although no individual payment was particularly large, once the entire West Blue was added together, it became an extremely tempting sum.

But that was only secondary.

Jogo opened the carefully preserved list and examined it closely. A moment later, he could not help letting out a whistle.

"This really is... something else!"

The list recorded the quantities and locations of a shipment of smuggled weapons.

The quantity was enormous!

It was counted in tens of thousands.

"Enough to arm a low-intensity war, wouldn't it?"

"What is the Capone Family trying to do?"

Jogo frowned deeply. His fingers lightly tapped the tabletop as he watched the dance club that had been burning for so long, watched the growing number of gang members among the people fighting the fire, and suddenly smiled.

"No matter what the Capone Family wants to do, if they plan to make a move on Ohara, I'll cause you some trouble first!"

He got up and left.

A few minutes later, at a Den Den Mushi discount store around the corner from the coffee shop, Jogo leaned inside a phone booth, picked up a rented Den Den Mushi, and made a call.

"Hello, Marines? I'd like to report something!"