The moment Don spoke, Captain Nezumi's suspicious expression froze. His eyes bulged, and his sharp rat-like teeth jutted out as he stammered in shock.
"Y–you… you're that bounty hunter? You're still in the East Blue?!"
He looked utterly dumbfounded.
"Of course I'm still in the East Blue. Where else would I go?"
Don smiled faintly, fixing Nezumi with a gaze that seemed to carry unspoken meaning.
From Dragon's earlier warning and Vice Admiral Garp's arrival, Don knew very well it was this man who had reported his information to Marine Headquarters.
"You never joined the Marines? Don't tell me Vice Admiral Garp failed to find you?"
Nezumi made no effort to hide that he knew about the incident, staring wide-eyed at Don. He remembered clearly that Headquarters had dispatched Garp to search for this man—but the outcome? That, he had never known.
Still, Nezumi had always assumed that if Garp himself had been sent, then surely the target had been found and escorted back to Headquarters. That was why he was so stunned to see Don standing here, very much still in the East Blue.
Don studied Nezumi for a moment, unable to tell if the man was genuinely clueless or just pretending. In any case, he wasn't overly concerned.
"Two pirates. Combined bounty: 3.9 million Berries. Round it up—call it four million."
Don rose to his feet, already heading toward the door.
"Oh, and have the money sent to the usual place."
As Don stood, Nezumi finally noticed the drastic change in the man's physique since last time.
"C–Commander!"
A nearby Marine, seeing Nezumi frozen in place as Don left, called to him cautiously.
"O–oh! Lock up these two scum and prepare the bounty money!"
Snapping back to himself, Nezumi kicked at the captured pirates and barked the order, then turned and strode out.
Don's sudden reappearance left him deeply unsettled. Should he report this again to Headquarters?
After all, had they not failed to locate him before?
Turning the matter over in his head, Nezumi returned to his office and immediately pulled out a Den Den Mushi to contact Marine Headquarters.
Buru buru…
The snail's call rang only a moment before its face shifted, mimicking the person on the other end.
Nezumi instinctively snapped to attention.
"This is Base Commander Nezumi of the East Blue's 16th Branch, ID number 00733. I have urgent information to report."
He explained that Don, the bounty hunter who had appeared a year ago, had resurfaced, and asked why he was still in the East Blue.
"Please hold, Captain Nezumi," came the calm voice of a woman from Headquarters. After a brief pause, she spoke again.
"Regarding your report: last year, Vice Admiral Garp was dispatched to search the East Blue, but he did not succeed in locating the target."
So it was true—Garp hadn't found him.
Nezumi's eyes widened as realization dawned. He quickly asked for instructions on how to proceed.
"Captain Nezumi, you are free to extend an invitation. If the man truly possesses special abilities, Headquarters will record your contribution, and the matter will be formally reported upward."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Nezumi responded immediately, excitement flaring in his chest. An invitation—that was a clear opportunity to earn credit.
Once the line disconnected, a Marine entered to report that the bounty money was ready. Without hesitation, Nezumi gathered men to personally deliver it to Don.
At the town tavern—unchanged since a year ago—the same old bartender was still behind the counter.
"One glass of juice," Don said casually, setting his sword on the counter.
The bartender didn't so much as blink, pouring him a fresh glass of orange juice with practiced ease.
It was incredibly fresh.
Don took a sip, his eyes lighting up at the perfectly balanced tang, bits of crushed pulp enhancing the texture.
"Good stuff, right? These oranges come from Cocoyasi Village—famous across the East Blue. If not for the base being so close to Cocoyasi, it'd be near impossible to get them this fresh."
The bartender grinned knowingly.
At the mention of that village's name, Don's expression flickered.
"This place is that close to Cocoyasi?"
"Of course. By boat, it's only half a day away!"
The reply didn't come from the bartender, but from a middle-aged sailor nursing a mug of ale nearby.
"There are ships going there every day. The Conomi Islands produce all kinds of fruit. When the harvest comes in, boats leave daily."
Don nodded slightly, taking in the information, then turned his gaze to the tavern's wall.
It was lined with bounty posters.
Not the terrifying faces of New World emperors—only local pirates of the East Blue, and a few who had ventured further.
Don Krieg: 12 million.
Captain Kuro of the Black Cat Pirates: 10 million.
Don studied the prominent posters carefully.
"Those two are big names in the East Blue," the bartender remarked, noticing his gaze.
"Ten million counts as a big name?"
Don raised a brow, faint amusement on his face.
"Naturally! The East Blue is the weakest of the seas. Pirates here don't dare get too big—if their bounties rise too high, the Marines will intervene. This is, after all, the homeland of Hero Garp."
The bartender spoke with reverence.
"Hometown? The East Blue is vast."
Don found the logic amusing. To claim a quarter of the world's oceans as a single man's "hometown" was quite the stretch.
Still, the bartender persisted. "Be careful out there, young man. The East Blue may be weaker, but the seas are still full of pirates."
Don inclined his head politely. "I will."
Kindness deserved acknowledgment, even if the true danger was not the pirates but the world itself.
His gaze lingered on the posters again. Most bounties were only a few million Berries, yet in this sea that already counted as high.
And the pictures—rough, exaggerated sketches—fit the world's crude character perfectly.
Just then, the bartender made his move.
"This is a special collection of wanted posters for pirates still at large in the East Blue."
With a flourish, he laid a stack of papers before Don.
"Only 150,000 Berries."
The reaction from the tavern was instant.
"Komodo, you crook! That's robbery!"
The others burst out, clearly appalled at the price.
"Hmph! What do you know? These aren't just posters. I've compiled intelligence on each pirate—look, see the notes on the back? Their last known sightings, areas of operation, even what crimes they committed!"
He flipped one over, showing the scrawled records. Indeed, each sheet carried detailed information: locations, ranges, and atrocities.
Don studied him, then asked quietly:
"You recognized me?"
The bartender chuckled. "Heh, of course I did. Your build's changed, but these old eyes are sharp. A year ago, you brought in pirates for bounties. I never forget a face."
It was impressive, really—so many people came and went, and yet he remembered Don clearly.
"After all, those pirates never looked human. Not like you."
Don blinked, half-amused, half-exasperated.
"Ten thousand less," Komodo bargained, "for you, only 100,000. Well?"
"I'll take one," Don said with a nod.
He had time to kill while waiting for Arlong's move, and if he could find Krieg or Kuro along the way, all the better.
He tossed a money pouch onto the counter, took the stack, and sipped his juice leisurely as he flipped through.
One note made his brow twitch.
A pirate worth only 3 million Berries led his crew in the slaughter of three island villages, killing at least 500 people.
Don's eyelid quivered.
Records or not, those words represented hundreds of real, extinguished lives.