Dill, this isn't funny

Not every wanted criminal was targeted by the World Government.

Throughout their long time on the run, Dill and Robin had faced World Government agents more often than Marines.

The Marines were supposed to be the main force fighting pirates, yet CP agents had repeatedly hunted Robin and Dill. Anyone could see how much importance the World Government placed on them. Capturing them would be a major achievement for anyone.

The Bullet Family wasn't planning to buy off the Marines with money, but to hand them the credit for capturing the Devil Child.

"This is trouble. Let's try bringing this guy under my control first."

Dill frowned deeply and, after a moment's thought, decided to hypnotize Brandon completely first.

The five great families practically ruled the West Blue, and he needed a mole inside the enemy's ranks.

The current hypnosis was only temporary. If Brandon felt intense pain or experienced a violent emotional fluctuation, he could wake up instantly.

What Dill needed to do next was complete hypnosis, or rather, forced brainwashing.

His current hypnotic abilities weren't enough to achieve that, but with props to help him, he could probably succeed.

"Mr. Gangster, before you arrest Nico Robin, you'll have to listen to me."

"I have to... listen to you?"

"That's right. Only then can you be sure of capturing the Devil Child and living the life you want."

"...All right. I'll listen to you."

Three hours later, Dill slumped limply onto the sofa, looking utterly drained.

I got careless. I didn't expect it to take this much stamina. At least it's finally done.

He looked at Brandon, who stood respectfully to one side, nodded in satisfaction, and instructed him:

"You must remember everything I'm about to say and believe it without question. Understood?"

Brandon bowed and replied, "Yes, boss."

"Kali Dill's physical capabilities increase every moment. Kali Dill recovers at an astonishing speed. Kali Dill commands the power of fire. Kali Dill has the ability to fly..."

Dill currently possessed three active abilities-hypnosis, fire, and electrical discharge-as well as the passive ability of his physical capabilities growing stronger every moment.

Previously, hypnotizing people into believing something had still taken some effort. For instance, to gain control over fire, Dill had needed to light a flame with a lighter first, then hypnotize people into forgetting the lighter existed, making them mistakenly believe he had fire powers.

Although this approach was easier than simply fooling people outright, it wasn't particularly fast either. That was why it had taken Dill two and a half years to master four abilities.

Now that he had Brandon completely under his control, things were much easier. Brandon would believe everything Dill said without question.

After rattling off dozens of abilities, Dill asked, "Did you remember all that?"

Seeing Brandon nod, he continued:

"Go next door and call my secretary over, then you can leave. Remember to complete your assignment when you get back."

Before long, Robin pushed the door open and found Dill sprawled in a heap on the sofa.

"How did you end up like this?"

She hurried over and helped Dill sit up. The petals on her face drifted away, revealing her true appearance, and she used her ability to take off Dill's shoes.

He, too, wore shoes with concealed ten-centimeter lifts.

"I'm fine. I got us a servant."

Dill accepted the black tea she handed him and took a sip before saying, "Bullet has its sights on us. We need to keep a low profile for the next couple of days."

"Then are we leaving tomorrow afternoon or the day after?"

Robin asked the question instinctively. Their usual practice was to move to another island immediately whenever anyone discovered their whereabouts, to ensure their safety.

"No, I'm not leaving."

Dill slung an arm around Robin's shoulders and said with feigned menace:

"I've had enough of hiding all the time. I'm handing you over."

Robin elbowed him in the stomach, her face expressionless.

"Dill, this isn't funny."

They had shared hardship and happiness for two and a half years. Naturally, Robin wouldn't believe the nonsense he casually made up.

"But we really aren't leaving this time. At least, not anytime soon."

Dill rubbed his stomach, then reached over and ruffled Robin's hair:

"Trust me. Life will get a lot easier from now on."

Robin's lips curved slightly as she remembered when their wanted posters had first been issued and no one would sell them anything. Dill had promised her solemnly:

"Trust me. I won't let you go hungry."

Over the past two years and more, Dill had proved those words true. Although they had fled from place to place, they had never lacked food. She had even put on a little weight.

She had once asked Dill why he helped her, only to receive an answer she couldn't understand:

"At first, it was to keep myself safe. Later, I just couldn't bear seeing you looking so pitiful without even anything to eat. You're my favorite ball player, after all."

Because of her Devil Fruit, Robin had been mocked as a monster since childhood. Forget playing ball-there hadn't even been any children her age willing to talk to her.

After all this time, Robin had long since stopped asking why. She would simply do whatever Dill told her.

She smoothed her hair and looked up to ask, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Go ask the owner to buy some food. I'm starving to death." Dill collapsed onto the sofa again and replied weakly:

"And bring that newspaper over and read it to me."

"You still need me to read it?!"

The eight-year-old doctor demanded:

"It's been over two years! You can't even read a newspaper. Are you planning to stay illiterate your whole life?"

"How can you slander me like that?! I already know over three hundred characters. At most, I'm only half illiterate!"

In truth, he knew more than three hundred, but reading for himself couldn't compare to the comfort of having someone serve him.

So he had kept coaxing Robin into being his newspaper reader.

"Besides, I have you, don't I, my dear doctor? Hurry along. I'm starving to death."

"All right, my lord hypnotist who loves ordering people around."

Brandon strode into a tavern, looking full of vigor. This was Black Fire's base, where they usually held gatherings or discussed business.

At the moment, however, the tavern looked rather empty. Only a handful of people sat scattered around, with no one else but a bartender wiping glasses behind the counter.

Ignoring his colleagues, Brandon walked up to the counter and reported to the bartender:

"No problems in my district. I searched it thoroughly and found no sign of the Devil Child."

The bartender nodded and crossed out Brandon's district with a red pen. Besides serving drinks and mixing cocktails, he was also responsible for compiling the information gathered by their various members.

Someone entrusted with such an important job was naturally deeply trusted by their leader. Brandon didn't linger to chat with him.

Looking around, Brandon spotted a colleague he knew fairly well having a drink. He immediately sat down beside him, poured himself a glass, and drank it before grumbling quietly:

"The boss has gone mad. He's actually making us search the entire island. If we don't find them, we'll seal off the harbor tomorrow and keep searching."

"Tell me about it. I still have to go patrol the streets later."

His colleague was clearly unhappy with the boss's arrangements. After glancing at the bartender, he continued complaining in a low voice:

"Some people have even been assigned night shifts. Why work this hard? Even if we find them, we'll just have to hand them over to Bullet. We won't get a penny."

"They're one of the five great families, after all. It's only natural for the boss to want to curry favor with them. Anyway, forget that. I found a nice place today..."

Brandon patted his shoulder and gave him a smile any man would understand:

"How about we go unwind together tomorrow night?"

"Why wait until tomorrow? Let's go tonight!"

"What are you thinking? The boss is bound to give another one of his mafia speeches tonight. It'll be past midnight by the time he's done. Let's go tomorrow night."

"All right, tomorrow night it is!"