Since I became a wanted criminal, some things changed, while others stayed exactly the same… but overall, life hasn't been as brutal as I'd braced myself for.
Honestly, if you're just living normally, you can go days without noticing any difference.
I still stroll into restaurants, stay at inns, and handle my business the way I always have. I'm rarely—if ever—met with fear or refused service just because I'm "a pirate."
Actually, I don't think people recognize me at all. It's not that they recognize me and don't care—they genuinely treat me like any other customer.
Back when I worked as a bounty hunter, I used to scour the papers and check every Marine-issued wanted poster. But maybe most people just toss those inserts without even looking… like the junk flyers folded into newspapers, the ones advertising online shops you never bother to open.
Even the so-called big shots who skim the news probably don't read closely. They glance, they move on.
I wasn't the only one who'd spotted bounty targets in town—faces I remembered from my bounty hunter days. And yet no one reacted, and those bounty targets didn't cause trouble for the staff or the locals.
So, overall… if you carry yourself with confidence—almost brazenly—you're surprisingly unlikely to be recognized.
That's why I haven't drastically changed my lifestyle just because I'm a bounty target now. I'm living pretty much the same way I did when I was "ordinary."
The real differences are simple: I no longer have a fixed base, and I'm always on the move—living like a drifter.
And, of course, I've stopped doing bounty hunting as a job.
That said, I still hunt pirates sometimes. They often have treasure, so it's a decent source of income. And just like before, I can pick up experience indirectly by reading their logbooks.
Since I can't turn anyone in anymore, I leave the pirates where they are and take their loot.
After all, I'm a bounty target myself now. If I walked into a Marine base, they'd arrest me instead of paying me.
And sometimes… the Marines attack me.
Sometimes we run into each other at sea by bad luck. Other times, someone reports me when I'm staying in a town.
I said earlier that "confidence keeps you hidden," but it's not a guarantee.
Those situations always turn into fights.
I try to escape without fighting whenever I can. But on land they swarm you with sheer numbers, and at sea… warships are fast, and they don't hesitate to bombard you until you sink.
I guess, in their eyes, if you're a pirate, they don't owe you mercy.
I can't really blame them. They're doing their jobs.
But I'm not going to stand there and die, either—so I end up fighting back, against both the sea and the Marines.
I do my best not to kill anyone or destroy their ships, so I hope they'll forgive me for that much.
I never wanted to become a pirate, you know…
Even now—even with a bounty on my head—I don't consider myself a "pirate." I've never once called myself one.
But in this world, "criminal" and "pirate" are practically interchangeable, aren't they?
And I do sail freely, island to island, making a living that way. So people assume I'm a criminal. A pirate, by default.
Correcting them is a pain, and there's no point, so I let them call me whatever they want.
And… I guess being a bounty target really is my fate. Bounty hunters come after me every now and then.
Unlike normal townsfolk, they actually study wanted posters. When they spot me, they wait until I'm alone—somewhere secluded—then they strike.
Well, I usually sense them coming with Observation Haki, so I just wipe the floor with them.
I don't kill them, but sometimes I charge them a "nuisance fee"—about half their money.
Technically, that's robbery against civilians, not criminals or Marines, but… if you come at me planning to take my life, you'd better be prepared to lose yours.
I'm sparing them. Saving their lives. So it's fair they pay a little for the lesson, right?
Only those prepared to be shot should shoot.
That's a motto I live by.
Some popular RPG even had a mechanic like that, so… all good. All good.
That's how I survive as a bounty target.
And as for writing… I'm still writing. Same as always.
Just like Morgans and I agreed, I submit manuscripts to the World Economic News publishing group. If they like what they see, they publish it.
So, really, only the publisher changed. Everything else is the same.
Well… except the submission process.
Even for Morgans—fearless as he is, or rather, even for Morgans's company—openly exchanging manuscripts and money with a pirate would be disastrous. It could easily provoke the Marines.
And even if they tried to keep it quiet, once a book hit the shelves the connection would be obvious. There was no hiding it.
But Morgans, who straddles east and west, law and underworld—and treats the criminal world like part of his own territory—had already cooked up a handful of schemes.
For example, they can claim I, the author, sent them the manuscript unilaterally and demanded publication with no request for payment. Make me look like an aggressively self-assertive criminal—someone who'd shout, "Publish it!"
That way, there's no visible commercial relationship between a company and a wanted criminal. The publication becomes "the company's decision," not a reward—murky, legal-adjacent, perfectly gray.
Of course, I still get paid my manuscript fees and everything else under the table.
Or sometimes the World Economic News uses one of its many shell companies to publish truly questionable material—things so hot they might draw the Government's or Marines' ire.
…That's how we published Prison Break last time.
According to Morgans, it's been an overwhelming success. Copies vanish the moment they're printed.
Because it's too controversial to sell openly, some of them are even traded on the black market—and apparently that's generating a ridiculous profit, too.
Still… seeing how popular Prison Break is makes me wonder.
Are there really that many people who feel suffocated under the World Government? Or are they just hungry for something thrilling?
I keep getting bombarded with demands for Season 2 and a mountain of fan letters. (Morgans handles delivery.)
Someday, I want to publish the work that uses the saying I mentioned earlier—adapted to this world.
It's even more politically charged than Prison Break. It would draw even more attention from the Government. That's why I've been sitting on it.
After all, the title itself screams rebellion.
Shoot only those who are prepared to be shot.
I'd love to make that saying popular in this world, too.
Now that I'm free from obligations—now that I don't have to please anyone—I'll write it someday.
And just so you know, I've never published anonymously. Never used a pen name.
I always write under my real name.
Some fans abandoned me once writer Venerdi Toto Sue became a pirate. I've even received letters filled with cruelty.
But most of my original readers stayed. They kept buying my books. They kept writing me.
I'm sure it's a misunderstanding! Don't let the world's opinions get you down!
On top of that, I've gained new fans since becoming wanted.
Some are simply new readers who like my stories.
Others were drawn to the darker, freer works I started writing after I became a bounty target—stories I no longer felt the need to restrain.
And then there are the… unique fans.
Like the guy who wrote, "I'm a pirate, but I'm a fan!"
Or the mafioso who said, "My boss recommended your books, and I'm hooked!"
Or the one that read: "I became a fan after reading your books smuggled into prison."
Those are… a little awkward to reply to, but it's still oddly heartwarming.
Some people even wrote, "The methods in your story were really helpful."
Uh. They didn't actually try them, right? That's a big no.
And who is this Lu Feld person? He seems to be obsessed with Loan Shark Taurus-kun.
Looking back… Morgans's prediction was dead-on.
The moment I started writing more freely than ever, my fanbase grew.
Sales exploded, too—even accounting for the fact that I'm publishing more often now than I did with my old company.
Apparently my previous publisher contacted me recently, trying to buy back some of my rights.
Of course they got hit with a "too little, too late," and left looking bitter.
Morgans and Eddie-chan laughed about it.
…Yeah. I'll admit it.
I felt a little smug, too.
And it seems that reputation has finally crystallized. The public's given me a title now—like "Straw Hat Luffy," "Red-Haired Shanks," "Buggy the Clown." A name always spoken with an epithet.
Mine is—
---
"There she is! This way!"
"We've found her… we won't let her escape again!"
"Stay put, you pirate scum!"
I'd felt eyes on me from the moment I entered town.
Maybe someone reported me. Maybe I was simply unlucky and got spotted by patrolling Marines. I couldn't be sure.
So I made a choice.
I deliberately baited them—darted away from the crowd in an obvious, taunting sprint—leading them somewhere secluded, far from civilians.
An empty patch of ground on the outskirts of town. No people nearby. Hardly any buildings.
And there, I found myself surrounded by several Marines.
Even cornered like this—a situation that would look hopeless to any pirate—I kept my calm, and I kept smiling.
A few Marines took it as mockery. Their irritation showed.
But the 55 million Berry bounty on my head was warning enough: I wasn't someone they could afford to underestimate.
"Intel says she's an Ability User. Where are the Seastone Bullets?"
"They'll take a while to arrive…"
"Then we hold her here until they do! Everyone—attack!"
As the Marines drew swords and raised guns, launching a coordinated assault, I lifted my Japanese umbrella—
—and a few minutes later, when reinforcements finally arrived with the prison bullets and other specialized weapons… it was already over.
The Marines had been completely wiped out.
Many were injured.
None had died.
And naturally, the bounty target was nowhere to be seen.
The Marine Headquarters Lieutenant Commander leading the reinforcement unit ground his teeth, bitter over letting me slip away again… yet privately relieved that none of his men had lost their lives.
He pulled my wanted poster from his pocket and showed it to one of the injured Marines who was still conscious.
"She's the one we fought, right?"
"Yes, sir… no mistake. I'm sorry, Lieutenant Commander… We let her get away."
"It's fine," he said quietly. "You did well."
He comforted his subordinate, praised his effort, then studied the poster again.
A Great Rookie—recently listed as a pirate.
Yet so far there were no reports of her plundering towns. She targeted pirates, and she retaliated against Marines and bounty hunters who came after her.
Originally, Sue had been a bounty hunter—and a writer—an unusual background for someone who'd become wanted. Even now, as a fugitive, she continued writing.
Her books were known for moving stories that struck deep in readers' hearts. And despite being labeled a pirate, she had fans among ordinary citizens, fellow pirates… and even some Marines.
She held no official status like the Seven Warlords, but her popularity among civilians had reportedly left the Marine upper command oddly conflicted about how to handle her.
(Even so… we are Marines. If you are a pirate, we must capture you. In the name of Absolute Justice…!)
"I won't thank you," the Lieutenant Commander muttered, staring at the poster as if it could glare back. "Next time we meet, I'll capture you for sure. Wash your neck and wait—"
"—'Pirate Literary Master' Sue…!"
"—'Pirate Literary Master' Sue…!"
To be continued...