Chapter 17 - Pharmaceutical Business

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"Slave!"

When those words left Shuma's mouth, several veins bulged on Aaron's forehead, a clear sign of just how deep his fury ran.

If there were two words he despised most in this world, one was Celestial Dragons, and the other was slave.

That word represented the greatest shame of his life.

And the only way to wash away that humiliation… was with the blood of every damn Celestial Dragon.

"Aaron, we can't go in there. It's too dangerous. With our current strength, it's impossible to destroy this place."

Shuma, who had also been a slave to the Celestial Dragons, knew all too well how much Aaron hated that word. Seeing the rage twisting his comrade's face, he quickly reminded him, worried that their leader—the pillar of their little crew—might lose himself to anger and act recklessly.

"…Sorry, Shuma. I made you worry. Don't worry, I won't lose my head."

Aaron drew a long breath, forcing himself to calm down. He nodded firmly to Shuma.

Nearby, Victor didn't really understand what was happening, but he was smart enough to stay silent. At the same time, he swore to himself never to utter the word slave in Aaron's presence again—and he'd make sure nobody else did either.

"Shuma, what's the story with this Cassius guy?"

Once he steadied his emotions, Aaron shifted his focus to gathering intel.

After all—know your enemy, know yourself, and you'll never lose a hundred battles.

For Cassius to run a pharmaceutical workshop in the middle of the slums, his background couldn't be ordinary. Without a powerful force backing him, there was no way the authorities and the underworld would just turn a blind eye.

In Drum Kingdom, everyone knew one simple truth: medicine is worth its weight in gold.

William had once considered getting into the medicine trade himself. But after learning that the industry was completely monopolized by merchant guilds backed by both the royal government and the black-market syndicates—while countless underground workshops had been raided, their owners slaughtered—he quickly gave up the idea.

The pharmaceutical business in Drum Kingdom was far too dangerous. It was the reverse scale of both the authorities and the mafia: touch it without real power, and you'd be destroyed instantly.

Which meant this small workshop was openly snatching profit from under the nose of the government and the underworld.

And according to Shuma, it had been running for quite some time already.

Hearing Aaron's question, Shuma immediately understood what he was planning. Cassius used slaves and treated them like tools, forcing them to work with his Devil Fruit ability. That alone had struck Aaron's deepest nerve.

Whenever Aaron planned to bring down someone or some organization, he always started with gathering intel and then crafting a strategy.

"I don't know much. I only heard from some passing pirates that the man running this place is named Cassius, and that he's a Devil Fruit user. The workshop has been around for years, but I've never learned what he looks like, nor who's backing him."

Aaron nodded. He didn't press further.

"Got it. Then we'll wait. They'll come out sooner or later. Maybe we can squeeze some valuable information from them."

With that, he slipped into a nearby hiding spot, waiting patiently.

Shuma and Victor quickly followed suit.

While waiting, Shuma kept sending his little origami beasts to spy on the workshop, hoping to gather intel.

Aaron, meanwhile, spread out his Observation Haki, carefully monitoring every movement in the surroundings to make sure no one else was watching them.

The workshop clearly catered to pirates. While they were on watch, two separate groups of pirates had entered the alley, each carrying bulging sacks that jingled faintly with metal—obviously stuffed with treasure.

Victor's self-control wasn't as steady. More than once, he turned to Aaron and whispered if they should rob the pirates. Each time, Aaron shot him down with a single icy glare.

His focus wasn't on Douglas's 20-million bounty anymore. His true target was that workshop beneath them—the one that made his blood boil.

Every time his Haki sensed the ragged, scarred slaves toiling away inside like lifeless husks, his fury roared higher.

What were those petty pirate purses worth, compared to seizing this workshop? Not only would it be a fortune, but he'd also get the chance to crush the scum who exploited slaves.

A clean strike—two birds with one stone.

Aaron could endure the filth and darkness of this world, but not slavery. Never slavery. To accept that would be to deny his very self.

Abolish slavery.

If he ever gained the strength to change things, he swore he would.

After nearly half an hour of waiting, both Shuma and Aaron sensed that Douglas and his crew were finally leaving.

But their numbers had dropped drastically.

Through Observation Haki, Aaron had counted twenty before. Now, only five emerged.

The five reeked of blood—clearly fresh from battle.

Worse, Douglas and the others looked… off. Their emotions were unnaturally heightened, their eyes bloodshot, their faces twisted with manic grins. Their auras were far stronger than before—Aaron could feel it.

"Be careful," Aaron warned grimly, glancing at Shuma and Victor. "They're much stronger than when they went in."

He didn't even need to say it. Both of them could already sense the difference.

To Victor, who had once hunted wild animals, it was like the difference between a well-fed beast with sheathed claws… and a starved predator, crazed and bloodthirsty. The danger was on a whole different level.

Douglas and his men moved quickly, heading toward another part of the slums with a clear destination in mind. Aaron and the others tailed them at a safe distance.

Just as Aaron prepared to strike a block later, gunfire suddenly erupted nearby. The shots grew more frequent, turning into the sound of an intense firefight.

Hearing it, Douglas and his crew froze—then, instead of retreating or moving cautiously, they burst out laughing like lunatics. Their faces twisted into savage grins as they charged straight toward the gunfire.

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