A bullet whizzed past his ear as Boren collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
That was close.
"Why waa—"
Before he could voice his confusion, a sharp pain exploded in his abdomen.
Already riddled with five bullet wounds, Boren immediately lost consciousness and crumpled to the ground.
Dier retracted his fist while simultaneously pointing his gun at Boren's head, threatening:
"You there, getting beaten up—surrender now, or the next bullet goes through this guy's skull."
Gunpowder staggered, barely suppressing a curse.
I'm the one who got ambushed. I'm the one getting beaten up. And now you're taking a hostage to threaten me? Just who's the mafia here?
Seeing Brandon and the others raising their fists for another strike, Gunpowder reluctantly raised his hands in surrender:
"I give up!"
"Wise choice." Dier kept his gun trained on Boren while shouting toward the window:
"Secretary, have someone bring a water-filled barrel!"
Ability Users were hated by the sea—submerging in seawater would drain their strength.
Through Robin's personal experiments, they'd learned this "sea" didn't just mean seawater. Freshwater worked too—bathtubs, hot springs, swimming pools—all would weaken an Ability User.
Gunpowder was submerged in the barrel up to his neck, only his head remaining above water.
Dier instructed Brandon to return to the inn and fetch his Hypnosis Tool, planning to hypnotize Gunpowder right there.
Gunpowder was an Ability User after all, with considerable future potential.
Moreover, they needed Gunpowder—as their leader—to manage the remaining gang members.
Once everything was prepared, Dier sat on an overturned barrel, swinging a pocket watch as he stared at the weakened Gunpowder:
"Do you... trust me?"
I trust you my ****!!
Gunpowder cursed internally while weakly nodding on the surface.
Six hours later, the hypnosis concluded.
Dier shattered the barrel to free Gunpowder and launched into another speech about dozens of abilities.
Robin, who'd been observing nearby, asked:
"Why go out of your way to say all this? You don't actually have these abilities."
"They'll become real if enough people believe in them." Dier grinned, raising an index finger:
"Watch!"
A tiny water droplet formed at his fingertip, spinning continuously.
A newly acquired ability—to create and manipulate water.
"Then there's Flame Power and lightning. In the future, I'll possess all sorts of abilities."
Flames ignited on his middle finger while electricity crackled around his ring finger.
"And the more believers I have, the higher my ability ceiling becomes."
"Then work harder to increase your bounty. The more famous you become, the more believers you'll have, and the stronger you'll grow."
More fame → more believers → more strength → more fame...
Before long, Dier could become the world's strongest, and they wouldn't need to hide like this anymore.
Unfortunately, reality wasn't so straightforward. Dispelling the flames and lightning, Dier explained:
"These abilities all consume stamina. Besides, the ceiling is just the ceiling."
"It won't instantly make me powerful. To truly reach that ceiling requires training."
Stamina functioned like MP, while abilities like Flame Power and lightning were active skills.
An increase in "belief" raises the maximum level of skills. Dier still needed to train step by step to allocate points and upgrade his skills to their highest level.
At the same time, sufficient MP—or stamina—was required to unleash these high-level skills.
Hearing this, Robin found it even stranger, recalling Dier's usual habits.
Lying on the sofa, lying on the bed, lying on the floor—at the very least, sitting in a chair.
"Then why don't you train regularly? If you can lie down, you'll never sit up? Shouldn't you be pushing yourself to the limit to improve your stamina?"
"Because I have no talent. Training yields slow progress, so I just gave up."
Dier spread his hands helplessly. This world placed great emphasis on innate talent.
The future Emperor Big Mom gave birth to 39 daughters and 49 sons.
She spent her time either eating, drinking, or having children—never training—yet still became an Emperor purely through talent.
Seven-year-old Luffy could beat up thugs with just a metal pipe. Zoro defeated adults shortly after joining the dojo. Kaido became the strongest warrior in his kingdom at the age of ten...
Dier, with his delicate features, slender and pale physique, looked like a consumptive ghost—his physical talent was abysmal.
Because of this, the original owner had caught Amy's eye, and Dier had abandoned the path of improving stamina through training.
Work two hundred times harder? Hah~
Though he didn't have the "training for two years to reach the finals" effort buff, he had his own special way of getting stronger.
"Starting today, you will train hard, develop your Devil Fruit abilities, and grow stronger as quickly as possible. Understood?"
"Yes, Boss."
Watching Gunpowder bow in submission, Dier nodded in satisfaction.
Those with great strength or fame could provide more "belief."
As long as Gunpowder became strong enough, passive skills like "physical stats constantly increasing" would grow more potent.
If he hypnotized all the future rising stars, he could lie back and grow stronger once they achieved fame.
Or he could just take control of Morgans and have him write extensively in the papers, making sure the whole world knew about Dier's "physical stats constantly increasing."
A ray of morning light streamed through the window, falling on Dier's face and interrupting his daydream. Six hours had passed, and the sun had just risen.
Squinting, he yawned and took Robin's hand, heading back to the inn.
"It's already dawn. Let's go back to sleep."
After the two left, Gunpowder began his work.
He returned to the tavern, gathered his subordinates, and stood atop the bar, raising his arms in a rallying cry:
"The operation to capture the Child of the Devil is hereby canceled. Go find Captain Geno to collect a month's pay—you'll have two days off to relax as you please!"
"Oh, and from now on, don't call me 'Boss.' Call me 'Chief.'"
"Ooooh!!!"
"Boss—no, Chief, long live the Chief!!"
"I'll stay with Blackfire for life!"
The gang members below cheered in unison, their excitement overflowing.
Even gangsters had a base salary—getting a full month's pay at once was no small sum, especially after ten straight days of grueling work.
They split into groups—some heading back to catch up on sleep, some planning to feast, others looking for entertainment.
Before long, only Gunpowder and a few others remained in the tavern.
The mute bartender gestured frantically, tearfully complaining to Gunpowder about Peak's misdeeds the night before.
Gunpowder patted his shoulder in consolation before turning to instruct Peak to call a doctor to treat Boren's injuries.
By the afternoon, Brandon, Geno, and the others had gone home to rest, and the mute bartender was also given a day off.
Only three people remained in the tavern, and Gunpowder, who had been basking in glory that morning, was now being scolded.
"You're not the ones generating electricity, nor are you the ones delivering water."
"The port isn't yours, and neither is the shipyard."
"You don't touch the construction industry, and you don't handle agricultural products either."
"Not a single profitable business, yet all you care about is squeezing protection money?"