Chapter 162

I sighed as I walked out of a run-down building, putting Trition back into its sheath after forcefully swinging it to the side to shake away the blood.

'This is the fourth bounty hunter group already...' I frowned as I briefly turned back to look at the run-down building. 'When will these bitches learn?' I wondered, shaking my head as I left the area, making my way back to the Black Pearl.

Four days had passed since we arrived in Nanohana, and I was quickly getting bored with the recurring theme of bounty hunters ambushing my crewmates and myself, no matter how many we put down.

Laffite, Kozue, and myself had been hard at work, tracking the attackers down to whatever organizations they belonged to, eliminating them all the while exploring and touring Nanohana. But there was no end to the bastards.

What's more, they seem to know exactly where everyone is at all times, avoiding the more powerful crew members whenever they go out.

Someone was helping these bastards or directing them somehow by giving them information since everyone who attacked us so far had been nothing but small fries with seemingly no ability to gather information this precisely.

None of my crewmates were hurt thus far, but the attacks were slowly grinding at my patience. I needed to find out who was giving the thugs and bounty hunters information about our whereabouts, and I needed to do it as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, I've only realized someone was behind these attacks now, or I might have already figured out who was behind them, as I didn't think to interrogate the assailants before.

In any case, I'll have Kozue, Laffite, and the CP9 duo hunting for the guy, so it should only be a matter of time before they come up with a lead.

...

"I'll look into it, captain," I heard Laffite's assuring voice coming from the other end of the transponder snail and nodded in satisfaction, ending the call and exiting the captain's quarters.

I had already contacted Fukurou, instructing him and Kumadori to hunt for the guy behind the attacks, and then proceeded to call Laffite and Kozue, who were out, directing them to do the same.

I would go out and look for the bastard myself, but intelligence gathering wasn't my strongest suit, so I might as well leave it to the professionals and stay on the ship, just in case something happens.

I raised an eyebrow as I noticed Wilson sitting on the deck, pouring a milky, strangely familiar beverage into a shot glass with a blissful expression on his face.

I made my way towards Wilson, sitting cross-legged in front of him as I snatched the bottle from his hand, giving it a sniff.

"Arak...?" I muttered with wide-opened eyes as I stared at the bottle. "Now that's something I didn't think I'd ever see again..." I added with a smile.

Arak was the traditional alcoholic drink people consumed in my hometown. It evolved from the Arab invention of alembic distillation in the 12th century.

Although your average conservative middle eastern guy would tell you it was solely used to produce perfumes and cosmetics, I say that's a load of BS.

The distribution of arak and its derivatives, ranging from rakija in the Balkans to arrack in Indonesia and Malaysia, closely follows the pattern of the Arab-Islamic conquests. And locals in these areas still consume this kind of alcohol as a beverage to this day, meaning Arabs brought it with them to those areas.

So you get the idea, but the boring history lesson that no one asked for aside, this drink sure brings back memories..., both good and bad, all funny one way or the other, though.

I still remember the first time I drank one too many shots of arak. I ended up counting street lights while laughing and cursing one of my ex-girlfriends.

It was a roller coaster of emotions, to be sure.

"Where did you get this from?" I asked as I poured myself a shot and downed it in one gulp, smiling at slight licorice after the taste it left in my mouth.

I wouldn't have dared to do this in my past life, but my improved stamina and metabolism should be able to take it.

"There's a guy in the docks selling barrels of the stuff," Wilson said with a grin as he took back the bottle and poured himself another shot. "What did you call it again, arak?" he asked, downing it in a single gulp as I nodded, already planning to buy a barrel or two of arak.

I was about to ask Wilson about his day. However, my transponder snail suddenly began ringing, causing me to swallow my words as I answered the call.

"Fukurou?" I said with a confused expression as the snail's face took in the likeness of Fukurou's face.

"I have some information, boss," Fukurou replied from the other side.

"Already?" I asked in a skeptic tone, raising an eyebrow at how fast he found something.

"I wasn't expecting it either, but the guy came to me, asking for help, Chapapapa," Fukurou replied with his weird laugh. "He asked me where you will be, Chpapapa, the idiot," he added in a confident tone.

"And what did you tell him?" I asked, hoping against hope that this idiot didn't just give him the information.

"I'm the lover of rumors, Fukurou the silent, and I would never tell him you were on your ship!" Fukurou assuringly replied, and I felt my eyes twitch even more violently.

'Now that I think about it, having this guy act as my spy might not have been the smartest idea of my life...' I sighed. 'But at least now I can finally figure out who's behind the attacks..' I shook my head.

"So, who is the guy?" I asked after a second's pause, trying to stop myself from hanging up the call.

"Oh, he's a member of baroque works. His code name is Mr. 3, chapapa," Fukurou quickly replied, pausing and waiting to see if I had any more questions.

'I should have known it has something to do with Crocodile...'

"Do you know why he's doing it?" I asked, despite already having a guess.

"He said he's using the bounty hunters as cannon fodder to tire you guys out and test your abilities, because he received an order from the leader of the Baroque works to take you out," Fukurou explained.

"I see," I remarked with a nod, having my guess confirmed. "Keep an eye out and let me know if something else comes up," I added with a nod.

"Oh, and Fukurou..." I said, trailing at the end of my sentence. "Keep that mouth of yours zipped next time someone asks you about me, or I'll zip it for you myself.. permanently..." I flatly concluded, hanging the call as I heard a nervous gulp from the other side of the transponder snail.