Lorne calmly took a sip of juice.
"Price doesn't matter. As long as you can provide the information I want, this little bit of money is nothing."
"Oh? What do you want to know?"
Shakky braced both hands on the bar and leaned forward, watching Lorne with interest.
Lorne didn't answer Shakky. Instead, he turned his head, his gaze falling on the silver-haired old man beside him, who seemed not to have heard a thing.
"'Dark King' Silvers Rayleigh, vice captain of the Roger Pirates."
Lorne's voice rang out in the dim bar.
"Hiding here as a coating craftsman. What a leisurely life."
Rayleigh paused mid-drink.
The mouth of his flask hung in the air. A clear drop of liquor slid down its spout and struck the wooden bar with a soft tap.
At that moment, something inside the old man, who had seemed rather languid, appeared to awaken.
Shakky also stopped wiping her glass. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her palm quietly pressed beneath the bar.
Rayleigh slowly turned his head and studied the young Marine beside him through his round glasses-no, he was a pirate now.
To Rayleigh's senses, the young man beside him seemed to conceal an utterly terrifying beast within his body. That immense vitality and faintly fluctuating Haki sent a flicker of alarm through even a remnant of the old era like him.
Rayleigh's gaze instantly grew razor-sharp, like two unsheathed swords piercing straight into Lorne's soul.
Rayleigh slowly set down the glass in his hand, and the terrifying aura of a top powerhouse from the old era instantly locked onto Lorne.
Faced with this almost tangible pressure, Lorne didn't move a muscle. He lifted his glass of juice with his right hand, tipped his head back, and took a long drink.
He set the