Their bodies moved involuntarily, dropping to their knees in a gesture of worship, leaving every single slave hunter in utter horror.
Their foreheads struck the ground heavily, and in the next instant, it was as if an invisible force had glued them in place. No matter how much they struggled, they couldn't lift their heads from the ground.
"It's a Devil Fruit ability..."
This bizarre phenomenon instantly made the slave hunters realize what was happening.
However—
Their bodies remained immobile.
Their heads were pressed firmly against the ground.
Their vision was locked onto a patch of earth no larger than their palms, preventing them from seeing what Maude would do next.
Yet—
They could clearly hear his slow, deliberate footsteps approaching.
Like the rhythmic beat of a war drum, each step pounded against their hearts.
Cold sweat poured down their faces.
Nearby, the slaves watched the scene unfold in stunned silence.
What had just happened?
What could have possibly caused these brutal slave hunters to suddenly prostrate themselves in submission?
The slaves couldn't comprehend it.
They turned to look at Maude, who was walking toward them step by step.
Though they didn't understand what had transpired, it was undeniable that this man had done something.
In that moment, a glimmer of hope flickered in their eyes.
This might be their only chance to regain their freedom.
Meeting their hopeful gazes, Maude showed no reaction. Instead, his attention remained fixed on the kneeling slave hunters.
As if sensing his gaze, the bodies of the slave hunters trembled violently.
Only one among them, a middle-aged man who appeared to be their leader, managed to maintain a semblance of composure. He gritted his teeth and spoke.
"Bacardi Maude, we have no grudge against you. Why are you—"
"You're an eyesore."
Maude cast a sidelong glance at the man.
"W-What?!"
The middle-aged man's face twisted in disbelief.
He attacked them... just because they were an eyesore?
What kind of ridiculous reason was that?!
His face flushed with anger.
Maude couldn't see his expression, but he could feel the raging emotions erupting from him like a volcano. He fell into momentary contemplation.
There was no benefit to be gained here, and Maude had no interest in the lives of these slave hunters.
However, since he had already made his move—
"Never mind."
Muttering to himself, Maude suddenly turned away and snapped his fingers.
The sound of the snap echoed.
What followed was the sickeningly synchronized sound of bones snapping.
Under the slightly astonished gazes of Perona and Cavendish, the kneeling slave hunters suddenly had their necks twisted by an unseen force, as if invisible hands had wrenched them apart.
"Is this also the power of the Shadow-Shadow Fruit?"
Perona's eyes flickered with surprise as she stared at Maude's back.
To him, this technique was probably just a minor display of skill.
But she had never seen Moria use his ability in this way before.
Could Devil Fruits truly manifest so differently depending on their user?
A strange thought stirred within Perona's mind.
The slaves, meanwhile, stood in shock, staring at the lifeless bodies of the slave hunters whose necks had been twisted in an instant.
With their limited understanding, all they could grasp was that this ability to take lives so effortlessly was utterly terrifying.
As the corpses collapsed, wisps of shadow-like tendrils slithered out from beneath them, silently returning to Maude's own shadow.
Cavendish watched Maude walk away without a second glance. Then, shifting his gaze to the bewildered slaves, he hesitated for a moment.
Instead of taking action himself, he ordered his crew to unshackle them.
Afterward, he instinctively followed Maude.
"Hm?"
After walking a few dozen meters, Cavendish suddenly realized something.
From the moment he had arrived at the Sabaody Archipelago, he had been a free man. There was no longer any reason for him to follow Maude.
He abruptly stopped in his tracks, silently watching Maude's retreating figure.
Sensing the gaze from behind him, Maude didn't turn around. He simply continued toward Grove 13, where Shakky's bar was located.
Bailey lay lazily on Maude's shoulder, nibbling on a nut.
Perona, holding a pink parasol, floated beside Maude.
She glanced back at Cavendish, who stood motionless in the distance, feeling a pang of envy that he had regained his freedom.
Then she turned to Maude's side profile, which exuded a rugged charm, and immediately felt an urge to grind her teeth in frustration.
Why was Cavendish allowed to be free while she was stuck here holding an umbrella for this cold-hearted bastard?!
The thought made her nose sting, and she nearly burst into tears.
Wait a minute—this cold-hearted bastard actually saved those slaves?
One moment, she was on the verge of tears; the next, she found herself rubbing her nose in curiosity as she studied Maude's side profile.
"What?"
Noticing her inquisitive stare, Maude turned his head slightly.
"N-Nothing."
Perona quickly looked away.
Maude shook his head slightly and picked up his pace.
Once again, Perona cast a cautious glance at him, her lips parting as if to speak—but in the end, she said nothing.
—At the shore—
Many onlookers silently withdrew their gazes from Maude's departing figure.
They had just witnessed him eliminate an entire slave hunting squad with a mere snap of his fingers, and it left them feeling a strange sense of dread.
Why was this newly appointed Warlord of the Sea so vehemently opposed to the slave trade?
With the latest victims added to his tally, the number of slave hunters who had fallen at Maude's hands must be close to a thousand by now.
"It's best to keep a low profile for the time being."
Those who made their living capturing slaves kept this thought firmly in mind.
—An Hour Later—
Lawless Zone, Grove 26 – A Certain Bar.
The bar was packed to the brim, buzzing with conversation and laughter.
Suddenly, the entrance was flung open with force.
BANG!
The wooden door slammed against the wall with a loud crash, momentarily silencing the crowd.
Every patron turned their heads toward the entrance.
A tattooed man stood there, panting heavily, his face pale with fear.
"Bad news! That man... he's back!"
"Who?"
Confused murmurs rippled through the bar.
The tattooed man took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs—
"Warlord of the Sea Maude is back!!!"
"What?!"
The crowd was stunned upon hearing the name.
Most of them were pirates and slave hunters who had long thrived in the lawless zone of the Sabaody Archipelago.
Since the Marines stationed at Grove 60 rarely ventured into the lawless zone, they had been living freely and indulgently.
But those carefree days had come to an abrupt end a few months ago, with the arrival of a certain man.
That man was Maude—a ruthless figure who would strike down pirates and slave traders alike without hesitation!
"He's… back again?"
A scar-faced pirate with a 90-million bounty abruptly stood up, his face full of dread.
Anyone with a high bounty reacted in much the same way.
"No, I need to get out of here."
The scar-faced pirate murmured under his breath.
Like him, many pirates knew that Maude specifically targeted those with high bounties.
As a result, the bounty—meant to intimidate others and bolster one's reputation—had now become a blade hanging over their heads, ready to fall at any moment.
Wasting no time, the scar-faced pirate strode toward the bar's entrance.
He would rather flee the lawless zone and risk being pursued by the Marines than remain in the same area as that harbinger of death.
"Huh?!"
Just as he reached the doorway, his instincts flared. He caught the faintest trace of a whistling sound.
Luckily, the bar was so quiet that even a pin drop could be heard, allowing him to pick up on it clearly.
It was the sound of a bullet slicing through the air.
Having survived dozens of brutal battles, the scar-faced pirate was all too familiar with that sound.
The moment it reached his ears, he instinctively threw himself to the ground without hesitation.
A lead bullet shot past his scalp, barely missing him—only to explode the skull of another pirate who had unknowingly stood in the bullet's trajectory.
The scar-faced pirate, having narrowly escaped death, turned his head toward the fallen man, his face instantly turning pale.
He realized that the bullet, fired from an incredible distance, had been aimed at him.
The sudden turn of events shattered the brief silence, plunging the bar into chaos.
"Shut the door!"
The scar-faced pirate shouted, fully aware of the imminent danger.
Hearing his frantic cry, those near the entrance hurriedly slammed the bar's doors shut.
Only then did the scar-faced pirate feel a slight sense of relief.
He slowly rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the corpse of the unfortunate pirate who had taken the bullet meant for him. His voice trembled as he spoke:
"That shot was meant for me… It's him. It has to be him!"
"….."
The others exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions darkening as they turned their attention to the shaken pirate.
But before anyone could respond—
Without a sound, without the slightest disturbance, a flower of blood suddenly bloomed on the scar-faced pirate's forehead.
"Guh?"
His body went rigid, his face frozen in confusion.
The bar fell into dead silence.
Everyone stared in horror at the inexplicably fallen man.
Where had the shot come from?
Shocked and terrified, none of them noticed the tiny hollow in the scar-faced pirate's shadow.
Atop the roots of the 13th Yarukiman Mangrove—
Maude sat on a throne of shadows, a gleaming white rifle in his hands, formed from Bailey's transformed body.
"First one."
Maude murmured with a smile.
Scattered at his feet, beside the Shadow Throne, were a dozen bounty posters he had collected from Shakky.
Nearby, Perona clutched a tray of tea and desserts, watching the man on the Shadow Throne with a fearful expression—as if staring at a cold, merciless demon.
She couldn't see where the bullets were going.
But she knew, with absolute certainty, that the moment Maude pulled the trigger, someone, somewhere, would die.
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