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"Bang—!"
The muzzle of the revolver burst with flame!
A single bullet flew from Aaron's gun, striking the fleeing Absalom squarely in the right leg. Blood spattered into the empty corner of the street.
"Stop! I surrender—don't shoot again!"
The searing pain in his leg forced Absalom to face reality—the young man before him had truly seen through his invisibility, and what's worse, he could strike with perfect accuracy. If Aaron hadn't deliberately held back, Absalom's head might already be blown apart. Panic-stricken, he released his Transparent state, raised both hands high, and shouted loudly.
But Aaron's response was another gunshot. This time, the bullet pierced Absalom's left leg.
With both legs wounded, Absalom collapsed helplessly to the ground. A deadly chill rose from deep within, making him realize death was close at hand. Desperation took over, and he begged again:
"Don't kill me! I have money—lots of it! I know plenty of secrets too! As long as you let me live, it's all yours!"
This time, his pleading finally worked.
Aaron lowered his revolver and turned to Dorak.
"Knock him out. Stop the bleeding."
Dorak rushed forward, smashing a fist into Absalom's head and knocking him out cold. From his coat, he quickly pulled out some basic medical supplies and bandaged Absalom's wounds, then slung the frail man over his shoulder as easily as if he were a chicken.
"Boss, you're incredible! How did you even find him? I didn't notice a thing!"
Victor's eyes gleamed with excitement and admiration as he spoke, practically worshiping Aaron.
Shuma and Williams exchanged a glance but said nothing, their interest fixed on the unconscious figure Dorak carried.
They had seen Absalom's body flicker back into view just moments earlier. Both instantly realized this wiry, sleazy man was a Devil Fruit user—the Clear-Clear Fruit, granting invisibility.
And that ability… oh, the possibilities. Countless wicked and mischievous ideas flooded their minds.
Aaron didn't immediately answer Victor. Instead, his eyes shifted toward the street ahead. The gunshots had clearly drawn attention.
Normal townsfolk, upon hearing gunfire, quickly bolted shut their doors and windows. But in the slums, vultures thrived—scavengers of all sorts rushed toward the commotion, hoping to profit from the aftermath.
Aaron's sharp ears already picked up the thundering of many footsteps. A red gleam flickered in his eyes as he activated Observation Haki again, instantly discerning the newcomers.
It was Horton—one of the Akio Gang's lieutenants who ruled over the slums—leading a group of his men toward them.
At the same time, Douglas—their target for tonight's operation—was also on the move, but in the opposite direction, withdrawing with a group under his command.
Though Aaron loathed Horton, the sadistic brute who once tortured him with branding irons, now wasn't the time for revenge. Tonight's unexpected capture of Absalom, the "Invisible Man," was already a massive windfall. There was no need to stir up more trouble.
He quickly turned to his crew:
"Move. We're leaving. Someone's coming. Dorak, you're out of tonight's mission. You and Williams take him back. Guard him well—and make sure he doesn't die."
Williams and Dorak nodded without complaint. With a quick glance at each other, they departed, carrying Absalom away.
To cover Absalom's wounds, Williams picked up a torn burlap sack from the ground, stuffed him inside, and disguised him as if they were just hauling heavy goods. Dorak then lifted the sack and carried him off.
Meanwhile, Aaron, Shuma, and Victor pressed forward in pursuit of Douglas, with Shuma releasing his paper-ants to track their target from a distance.
By the time Horton, panting heavily, stormed into the scene of the gunfight with his men, Aaron and the others were long gone.
"Damn it! Don't they know this is my turf? And they dare cause trouble right under my nose?! Looking for death, are they? Find them! Ask the wretches nearby—where did they go?!"
Horton stomped his foot furiously, his temper exploding as he barked orders to his men.
Of the Akio Gang's five lieutenants, his territory was the largest—but yielded the least profit. Worst of all, he handled the dirtiest, most troublesome tasks, and the other lieutenants' men often looked down on him behind his back.
The unfairness festered in him like poison. Weakened by jealousy, Horton became a creature of rage and sadistic cruelty, clinging desperately to absolute control over his turf.
Thus, he despised anyone making trouble in his territory—especially in front of him. To Horton, that was an unforgivable violation, punishable only by his wrath.
His underlings knew all too well what that temper meant. Scattering frantically, they dragged terrified civilians from their homes, trying to extract information about Aaron's group.
But the alleys had been too dark, and Aaron's men had kept their faces hidden. Most civilians had hidden themselves at the sound of gunfire. Horton's men couldn't find any solid leads.
While Horton raged, Williams and Dorak had already slipped back into the civilian district with their captive, while Aaron, Shuma, and Victor stayed close on Douglas's trail.
Seven or eight minutes later, Shuma sensed Douglas finally stopping.
By then, they had ventured deep into the slums, arriving before a narrow alley piled high with rotting garbage, reeking so strongly it made the air choke.
The alley had no streetlamps, its sky blocked by clusters of illegal buildings, leaving it in pitch blackness. The only light came from the faint glow of a distant lamp spilling partway inside. Beyond that, the passage sank into utter darkness, like a black hole devouring all within.
Yet despite the gloom, faint noises drifted out—it wasn't empty.
From sound alone, Aaron could tell: there were many people here. More precisely… many people beneath it.
"…Why would he come here?"
Shuma frowned at the stinking alley ahead, his face grim.
"You know something, Shuma?"
Aaron, having just used Observation Haki, confirmed there were indeed people below. But their presence—the strange, lifeless familiarity of it—made his blood boil. He turned sharply toward Shuma, sensing the man knew more.
Shuma had spent years roaming the slums, seeking orphans to recruit, using his Paper-Paper Fruit abilities to uncover many of its darkest secrets.
Some of those hidden truths had disgusted even him, a man who had once been a slave to the Celestial Dragons. And this alley harbored one such abomination.
Because beneath it… was a small pharmaceutical factory.
Its owner, rumor claimed, was a Devil Fruit user with some sort of mind-control ability. All his "workers" were slaves, bound by his power.
The conditions were atrocious. No protection whatsoever, workers toiled directly in clouds of chemical fumes, exposed to toxic byproducts of drug synthesis. Disease ravaged their bodies, but under the grip of his control, they labored on until they finally died.
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