Chapter 176: Overwhelmed with Concern

Dada led Maude and his crew to the most lavish and expensive restaurant in town.

As they entered, the sight of Jim, covered head to toe in blood, immediately drew everyone's attention. With every step he took, bloody footprints trailed behind him, and drops of blood splattered onto the floor.

However, not a single restaurant employee dared to speak up.

Under the astonished gazes of the other patrons, the group took their seats one by one.

Jim didn't mind the sticky sensation of the blood on his skin, but he was concerned that his appearance might ruin his companions' appetites.

So, as soon as he sat down, he got back up, walked over to a neighboring table, and yanked off its tablecloth. Without hesitation, he used it to wipe the blood from his face and body.

After a quick wipe, he casually tossed the now blood-soaked tablecloth aside, his actions as nonchalant as could be.

Dada handed the menu to Maude and said with a hearty wave, "Order whatever you like! It's my treat today!"

Hearing this, a sharp glint briefly flashed in the eyes of Jim and Bailey.

Maude, ever the considerate one, passed the menu over to them.

Gaya clasped her hands under her chin, her lips curving into a faint, enigmatic smile.

As the ship's cook, she was well aware of her crewmates' appetites.

Maude and Lafitte were relatively normal eaters. Even if they ate to their heart's content, it would still be within manageable bounds.

But Jim and Bailey were another story altogether...

When the food was served, Dada was all smiles, engaging in lively banter around the table.

He considered it a great honor to dine with such esteemed figures.

Twenty minutes later, Dada's smile began to falter as he watched Jim and Bailey devour the food with reckless abandon.

Two hours later, Dada stood at the counter, holding an outrageously long bill that trailed to the floor.

"Are... are you sure there's no mistake?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Yes, sir," the server replied with professional detachment.

Dada stood frozen, as if turned to stone.

The members of the Turkey Pirates looked on anxiously at Dada, who seemed utterly out of sorts.

"Help... help me stand," Dada muttered, his legs wobbling so much that he nearly collapsed.

Thankfully, his crew reacted quickly, supporting him before he could fall.

With a dazed expression, Dada mumbled, "Truly... as expected of my idols' pirate crew. Just... just one meal... and it cost me five years' worth of savings..."

"..."

After eating their fill, the group left the restaurant.

Bailey lay sprawled on Maude's shoulder, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

It had been a long time since he'd eaten to his heart's content. The aftermath of using his digestive ability excessively, however, was a profound drowsiness.

Before long, he drifted off to sleep.

Exiting the restaurant, the crew headed straight for the market.

They needed to stock up on provisions like food and liquor, essential for their voyage.

In just a week's time, they would be able to set the log for Leviathan Island.

Dada, being one of the local big shots on Spring Island, continued to lead the way.

However, his previously confident stride had vanished, replaced by a light, almost weightless gait that made it seem as if a strong breeze might carry him away.

Gaya watched Dada's weakened figure with an amused smile.

Not all pirates were bloodthirsty criminals. The more you encountered, the more you'd find some, like Dada, who were downright entertaining.

Maude glanced at Gaya, noticing her visibly improved mood, and chuckled quietly to himself.

Though he did feel a bit sorry for Dada... they had saved quite a bit on their meal expenses.

Before long, the crew arrived at the town's market, where they spent about an hour gathering supplies.

Afterward, Maude and his crew, laden with their purchases, left the town and made their way to the shore where their mast ship was docked.

On the shore, five members of the Turkey Pirates, whom Dada had left behind, were roasting meat over an open flame.

Lafitte, holding a roasted chicken in one hand, was perched casually on the ship's railing. From a distance, he spotted Maude's group emerging from the central stone road of the town.

"Hmm."

Noticing the traces of blood still clinging to Jim, Lafitte's eyes glinted.

He deduced that Jim must have killed a few insolent locals in town. But how many had he killed?

Just from the bloodstains, Lafitte could piece together the gist of what had happened.

Still...

With a soft sigh, Lafitte murmured, "Starting a killing spree the moment we arrive… I hope we didn't waste any promising prey."

He knew full well that Maude's notebook contained no mention or information about Spring Island.

In other words, the people who had been killed couldn't contribute anything to Maude's "bounty."

Such considerations, however, were Lafitte's to weigh.

When the group reached the mast ship, Jim began loading their supplies onto the deck.

Gaya, whose clothes bore faint traces of blood, headed straight for the bathroom upon returning to the ship.

Dada, ever perceptive, gathered his crew to clean up the mess left on the shore before saying his goodbyes to Maude.

"Big Brother Maude, now that everything's settled, we'll take our leave."

"Alright."

Maude nodded, watching Dada and his men depart.

It would take a week for the Log Pose to record the island's magnetic field, and they couldn't just idle on the ship for that entire time.

They'd likely make a few trips back to the town in the meantime—and could meet up with Dada again then.

"Jim, take Bailey to the bedroom."

Maude handed the unconscious Bailey, slung over his shoulder, to Jim, who promptly carried him into the ship's cabin.

At that moment, Lafitte approached Maude and asked, "How many people did you kill?"

Maude thought for a moment before replying, "Over a hundred, give or take."

"Just fodder?"

"Pretty much."

"Good."

Lafitte gave a slight nod.

Since discovering Maude's unique ability, Lafitte seemed to value such matters even more than Maude himself.

Within the Maude Pirates, Lafitte was the only one aware of Maude's Hunter's Notebook ability.

"Maude, you should stay on the ship for the next two days."

"Huh?"

"Until I've gathered enough intel, you're not to stir up any more trouble," Lafitte said with a serious expression.

"..."

Maude was momentarily at a loss but eventually nodded. "Fine. This town's got nothing on Mad Hat Town anyway—totally boring."

As he spoke, Maude's gaze drifted across the water to Winter Island, still engulfed in heavy snow and wind.

If he had to stay on the ship for two days, he'd rather explore Winter Island instead.

Lafitte noticed Maude's glance toward Winter Island but said nothing.

As long as Maude didn't cause trouble in town, it didn't matter where he went.

If there was trouble to be made, it could wait until Lafitte had finished gathering intel.

Ensuring Maude achieved the greatest possible gains required no small amount of effort on Lafitte's part.

Meanwhile, back in town, the Turkey Pirates had disbanded to find their own entertainment.

They only regrouped when it was time for plunder.

Dada returned to his quarters, looking dejected.

Years of savings gone just like that—it was a tough pill to swallow.

"Who's there?"

Suddenly, Dada's expression hardened. He drew his machete and glared coldly at the window.

"I mean no harm!"

A voice rang out from outside the window, full of vigor.

The speaker didn't show himself but raised his hands high in a gesture of surrender.

Seeing this, Dada frowned.

Two minutes later.

Dale sat on the sofa in the room, staring intently at Dada, who was sitting across from him with his legs crossed.

"Brother Dada, you're wasting your innate talent! If you join us, with your skills, you could easily become our newspaper's top writer!"

"Look me in the eye."

Dada suddenly leaned toward Dale.

Dale, though puzzled, complied and focused on Dada's eyes.

Dada asked, "Do my eyes look sharp to you?"

Dale hesitated. "Uh… yes, they do."

Dada nodded. "Then you're not a fool."

"???"

Dale was utterly baffled.

After a pause, Dada roared, "Get lost!"

The sheer volume of Dada's shout nearly sent Dale tumbling off the sofa.

"Brother Dada, calm down!"

Dale raised his trembling right hand to adjust his crooked glasses.

"Don't you want to make big money? Journalists get paid—handsomely!"

"Oh?"

The mention of money piqued Dada's interest.

He was practically broke at this point.

Sensing an opening, Dale felt a glimmer of hope.

"And don't you idolize Maude?"

"So what if I do?"

Dada raised an eyebrow at Dale.

Dale pushed up his glasses and said earnestly, "Writing reports about someone you admire—isn't that a fulfilling thing to do?"

The words struck a chord.

Dada froze, his hand subconsciously reaching into his pocket to touch the The Path to Survival book. Maude's handsome face, full of recognition and encouragement, flashed in his mind.

He was tempted.

Just then, the door burst open with a loud crash.

A group of menacing thugs stormed in, led by the scantily-clad Yatari.

Dada's expression darkened. He grabbed the long blade beside him and bolted for the window without hesitation.

Crash!

Blackhand Hobson shattered the glass with a powerful kick, sending Dada, who was attempting to escape, flying back into the room.

On the sofa, Dale, witnessing the chaos, immediately raised his hands high—a reflex he had perfected over a lifetime.

Quick, firm, flawless!

Making it clear he posed no threat, Dale stammered, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm just a passerby who came in for a drink of water! I don't even know this turkey-head guy—honest!"

Thud!

Dale was knocked unconscious with a single punch.

"He looks like a reporter."

The thugs, initially planning to kill Dale, changed their minds upon noticing the camera around his neck.

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