Some of the items they needed to buy were quite precious and rare, not sold in ordinary shops, necessitating a look in the black market. Although Bellamy thoroughly disliked such places, he had to admit they offered considerable convenience.
As long as it was a nominally normal country, black markets wouldn't operate too conspicuously; the World Government's reputation still carried some weight, after all. And Lvneel Kingdom wasn't Neon Town; there weren't pirates and thugs brazenly wandering the streets.
Noticing he was still shirtless, Bellamy decided to step into a nearby clothing store. He planned to buy a few outfits and, while there, ask for directions to the black market.
However, he seemed to have forgotten that he was currently accompanied by two women. Women who hadn't had the chance to buy clothes in a very long time. Did any woman in this world truly dislike pretty clothes?
The moment Mia and Muret stepped into the clothing store, they were immediately captivated, unable to move further. Mia picked up a white dress, holding it against herself and examining it from every angle for ages.
"Muret, quick, look! How about this one?"
"Oh, it's gorgeous!"
Bellamy clearly saw little stars sparkling in Muret's eyes and inwardly groaned. Damn it, we're stuck now.
"Tsk, miscalculation," he muttered under his breath. Why did he even suggest coming into a clothing store? Now they wouldn't be getting out of here for at least two hours.
Just as Bellamy was nursing his impending headache, sounds of commotion drifted in from the street. A troop of fully armed soldiers arrived, breathless, at the spot where Bellamy's group had recently passed, loudly beginning to disperse the surrounding crowd.
At this point, Bellamy remained completely oblivious to the trouble brewing. His appearance—shirtless and carrying a large sack practically overflowing with gold and jewels—screamed 'fat sheep' ripe for the shearing. Inside the store, the shop owner was busy fawning over the two women, effusively praising the most fashionable garments in his collection.
"Don't forget why we're here, hey," Bellamy tried. "Hey! Hey!" He attempted to hurry them along, but received absolutely no response. The two women and the shop owner treated him as if he were thin air.
"Fine," he sighed resignedly. "Guess we wait." He dumped the heavy sack and chests he was carrying onto the floor, found himself a nearby chair, and started boredly counting the ants crawling on the ground.
Outside, the street commotion seemed to die down somewhat. The soldiers, after making inquiries, had finally identified their target's location. Lvneel Kingdom's regular army might not have been elite, but they were disciplined and well-trained. Arranged in squads of twelve—six soldiers with shields forming the front rank, six riflemen behind—they formed tactical semi-circles and began methodically advancing, surrounding the clothing store from the street.
It was only then that Bellamy finally sensed something was amiss. What's with these soldiers? Why do they look like they're here to cause trouble for us? But how long had he even been on the island? An hour?
Watching the soldiers carefully close in, Bellamy was utterly bewildered. What the hell are they doing?
The military officer commanding from the rear spotted the pile of treasure dumped on the floor inside, along with the three large chests placed beside it. Just kill these few pirates, he thought greedily, and all of this will be mine! Plus, eliminating pirates is a meritorious act. With this money, I can grease some palms higher up… maybe even get promoted. The avarice in the officer's eyes became almost impossible to suppress.
"Fire! Fire!" he bellowed. "Shoot them dead for me!"
"But sir," his adjutant couldn't help but interject hesitantly, "there are civilians inside."
"Idiot! What are you talking about?!" the officer roared back. "There are no civilians here! Only pirates! Do you understand?! ONLY PIRATES!"
"Fire! Kill them for me!"
Hearing the words "pirates," "shoot," and "kill," Bellamy finally grasped what was happening. He was stunned for a brief moment, then found the situation incredibly amusing.
"Interesting," he chuckled softly. "Truly interesting." He had been eager to get back out to sea and hunt Sea Kings. Before landing, he'd resolved to avoid meddling in any unpleasant business he might encounter. He hadn't wanted to start any trouble, yet trouble had actively come knocking on his door.
"Hey, hey, ladies," he called out lazily. "Stop looking at clothes for a second. Someone's about to shoot us dead." He couldn't be bothered dealing with mere fodder soldiers himself.
"Where did these guys even pop up from?" Mia asked, having somehow already changed into the white dress she'd been admiring. Muret was still in the fitting room. Mia's figure, originally somewhat slender and well-suited to the dress, had naturally become more robust and athletic from the constant physical conditioning and combat training aboard Bellamy's ship. 'Robust' wasn't perhaps the most flattering term for a woman, but the fact was, the dress now felt noticeably tight on her.
Damn it! she thought irritably. This is all the Captain's fault!
While they were casually chatting, the soldiers outside had already raised their rifles and taken aim. The shop owner, still basking in the glow of potentially making a huge sale, hadn't yet grasped the gravity of the situation. "Why are there so many soldiers outside?" he wondered aloud.
Just then, a deafening volley of gunfire erupted.
BANG! BANG-BANG-BANG!
The clothing store's large display windows and front door were instantly shredded, riddled with bullet holes like a sieve. A dense hail of lead flew rapidly towards them.
Bellamy nonchalantly extended his right hand and gave a forward push. "Finger Pistol: Air-Expulsion Palm." The technique he'd casually created near the Calm Belt unexpectedly proved useful once more.
A fierce gale blasted outwards from his palm, violently repelling all the incoming bullets. Carrying the projectiles with it, the palm wind slammed forcefully against the shop's interior wall, blasting a large hole clean through it. The residual force impacted outwards, sending countless fragments of stone and debris flying.
The soldiers in the front rank frantically raised their shields and ducked their heads. The riflemen positioned behind them weren't so fortunate. In the blink of an eye, several soldiers were pierced through by the high-velocity debris. Agonized screams immediately filled the air.
Witnessing this astonishing display, even the dimmest fool present knew they had picked a fight with someone terrifyingly powerful. It finally dawned on the officer: would someone casually parading around with such immense wealth really be easy prey? A cold drop of sweat trickled down his forehead. "Quick!" he yelled frantically. "Go inform the King! These pirates are vicious! Request immediate reinforcements!"
"Looks like today's shopping trip is ending early," Bellamy remarked, smirking at the two women. Now that this had happened, they wouldn't be buying any more clothes, regardless of their wishes.
"Damn it all! We finally get ashore for a bit!" Mia fumed. She had no idea why these soldiers had attacked them, but right now, she was extremely irritable and felt an overwhelming urge to hit someone.
"Captain," Muret asked calmly, having emerged from the fitting room, her tone strangely detached despite the violent suggestion, "should we kill them all?"
"Do as you please," Bellamy replied with utter indifference. "Just don't delay our actual business."
Hearing this, Mia immediately hitched up her white dress and strode purposefully towards the ruined doorway. "You pieces of trash! All of you can just DIE!"
Kingdom regulars might sound impressive on paper, but they were leagues below the standard of actual Marines. The primary function of kingdoms within the Four Blues, from the World Government's perspective, was simply to provide stable populations. Even somewhat hindered by the dress, Mia tore through the ranks of soldiers as if it were child's play.
In less than three minutes, the street outside was littered with groaning, incapacitated soldiers. Ultimately, however, they hadn't resorted to lethal force. Bellamy scanned the aftermath; not a single person was dead.
"Women are too soft-hearted," he muttered under his breath. "Alright, we've wasted enough time here."
As Bellamy stood up, intending to leave, a puzzling question finally surfaced in his mind. Why exactly did these guys come looking for trouble with them in the first place?
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