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"No. That guy's as stubborn as they come. He seems to have taken a particular interest in you, Boss. Said unless it's you who asks, he won't open his mouth."
When Aaron heard William's words, his face immediately darkened. He turned his head toward the direction of a certain basement, replying with clear irritation.
"Is that so? Fine then, I'll go ask him myself. Everyone else must be tired after tonight. William, prepare some food."
Aaron nodded as he spoke, then headed straight toward the basement.
Williams, seeing this, brought Dorak with him to the kitchen, while the others gathered in the living room. There, Victor—barely able to contain his excitement—launched into a vivid retelling of the night's operation with Aaron. The young members of the intel squad listened with wide eyes, shocked by every detail.
The man Aaron referred to was, of course, the "Transparent Man," Absalom. To him, this unexpected encounter with a Devil Fruit user was far more valuable than Douglas' head.
Absalom, holder of the Clear-Clear Fruit (Suke Suke no Mi), right-hand man of Gecko Moria, and later killed by the Blackbeard Pirates—his power ultimately claimed by Shiryu.
That was the extent of Aaron's knowledge about him.
But right now, Absalom had yet to undergo Hogback's grotesque surgical modifications. He was still in his human body, and more importantly, when captured, he hadn't dared invoke Gecko Moria's name. That was proof enough—he wasn't Moria's subordinate yet.
Which made things much simpler.
Aaron was very interested in Absalom's ability. If possible, he wanted him as a companion.
There was no doubt about it: in terms of intelligence gathering, someone wielding the Clear-Clear Fruit would be outstanding.
The only problem was that Absalom's mastery of the fruit was still crude. But given time, if his powers were honed enough, he might even be able to conceal himself from Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation Haki).
Moreover, Absalom was a natural thief and spy—skills that would be invaluable in the future. Against powerful enemies or troublesome situations, Absalom could very well become an ace in the hole.
With a creak, Aaron pushed open the basement door.
Inside, Absalom was bound to a chair.
This Absalom was nothing like Aaron's impression of the hulking figure from memory. Without Hogback's modifications, he was just a small, frail young man of ordinary appearance.
His face was deathly pale, his eyes sunken with dark circles, cheeks gaunt and hollow. He looked like a sickly wretch—drained from long years of indulgence in drink and women.
"What do you plan to do with me?"
Absalom had steadied himself after surviving the initial threat to his life and enduring his confrontation with Williams. Now, upon seeing the man who personally captured him enter the room, he immediately raised his voice, a defiant look flashing across his face.
From his clash with Williams, he had already realized that Aaron's group was interested in him—not just the secrets he carried, but in him personally.
And Absalom knew his own worth better than anyone. With the Clear-Clear Fruit, there was practically no place in the world he couldn't infiltrate. That meant unrivaled espionage potential and destructive capacity.
He was confident that if he chose to, many powerful factions would extend their hand to recruit him. This Aaron fellow was almost certainly attempting the same.
But Absalom was arrogant—inevitably so. He had crept into countless dangerous places, committed vile deeds, killed more than a few, and always walked away untouched. His personality had become wildly overconfident and untamed.
If he hadn't run into Aaron tonight, he likely would have eventually crossed paths with Gecko Moria, been crushed underfoot, and only then recognized his own smallness—submitting to Moria and gradually reshaping his nature.
But here and now, Absalom was still young, brash, and drunk on the power of his Devil Fruit.
So the moment he calmed down and understood Aaron's intentions, he reverted to form—arrogant and cocky.
Aaron's eyes immediately hardened at his insolence.
He despised fools. When choosing comrades, he always weeded out the stupid ones. And right now, Absalom seemed very much the fool—acting fearless despite being nothing more than a prisoner.
"Listen carefully. You're just a captive. You're no king, and you're certainly no Celestial Dragon. Don't dare wear that expression in front of me."
Aaron's tone was ice cold as he drove his boot into Absalom's wound.
Even though he controlled his strength, Aaron's power was immense. The kick shattered bone in Absalom's frail leg, sending him into an ear-splitting scream.
But one kick wasn't enough to break Absalom's pride. He still believed Aaron wouldn't kill him, and so he remained defiant.
Aaron, however, was never one to tolerate stubbornness. If one strike wasn't enough, then he would deliver another. And another. Until Absalom broke.
He had trained in the Kuja Body Refinement Technique, giving him fine control over his strength. He knew the human body inside and out—exactly where to strike to inflict maximum pain without killing.
And if that wasn't enough, Aaron had learned countless methods of torment from the Celestial Dragons themselves—ways to ensure Absalom would truly taste this world's cruelty.
Soon, the basement filled with the sound of Absalom's bloodcurdling screams.
Upstairs in the living room, Shuma and the others paused mid-bite at the muffled cries echoing from below. A chill crept into their hearts, silencing even the usually boisterous Victor.
"Eat. Ignore that guy. He must've angered Aaron. Remember this: never make Aaron angry. When he is, it's terrifying. But don't worry—he rarely gets that way with his own comrades… unless they commit something unforgivable."
Williams broke the silence, his voice oddly satisfied.
The others quickly nodded, save for Shuma, then returned to their food and chatter—paying no mind to the pitiful prisoner still howling in agony below.
After ten grueling minutes of cruelty, the once-proud Absalom finally bowed his head before Aaron.
He was drenched in sweat, and beneath his chair lay a foul, yellow puddle. The basement stank with the bitter stench of urine.
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