"Don't try that crap on me. Take these people and get lost," Bellamy snapped, entirely unimpressed by the nobles' ploy with the officer's family.
He then laid out his terms. "A Devil Fruit, a Famous Sword, or the training method for Armament Haki."
"Any one of those will suffice." Bellamy then gestured towards the incapacitated plate-armored warriors lying nearby. "The training method for these warriors isn't bad either. Consider that a little bonus gift for me."
His demands were, to put it mildly, exorbitant.
Hearing Bellamy's requirements, the smile instantly vanished from the middle-aged noble's face. "You must be joking, Sir?"
A burly man covered in scars pushed through the crowd, stepping forward menacingly. "Kid, don't push your damn luck," he growled. "A Devil Fruit? Even I don't possess one of those!"
The moment the man spoke, Bellamy detected the unmistakable rough aura of a pirate. He eyed the man up and down. "You're a pirate, aren't you?"
"Heh, saw right through me, huh?" The burly man awkwardly stretched, ripping off the fine noble attire he wore with a grimace. "Wearing this fancy crap is damn uncomfortable. Bare-chested is much better."
So, definitely pirates, Bellamy confirmed inwardly. Once someone had been a pirate long enough, that certain reckless, untamed quality became impossible to completely hide.
"Hey," Bellamy asked, genuinely confused now, "what kind of game are you people playing here?"
"The situation is... somewhat complex," the middle-aged noble interjected smoothly, his practiced smile quickly reappearing. "Perhaps we could adjourn to my estate for afternoon tea? We could discuss matters further over refreshments, how does that sound?" He inclined his head slightly, extending the invitation.
Bellamy considered it. Mia and Muret were probably still shopping. A cup of tea didn't sound too bad. "Alright."
"This way, please."
The conflict, which had begun so inexplicably, now seemed poised to conclude in an equally baffling manner. The two corpses – the King and the assassin – lying before the throne seem utterly forgotten as the entire group departed the hall. Silence descended upon the palace once more, with only the spreading bloodstains offering mute testimony to the brutal slaughter that had just occurred.
——————
"Esteemed Mr. Bellamy," the middle-aged noble began once they were seated at an exquisite small table in his opulent estate, "you have killed the king of a nation affiliated with the World Government. They will undoubtedly issue an extremely high bounty for your capture. Expect at least one hundred million Beli, as a starting point."
"However," he continued, his tone pointed, "that is all predicated on the assumption that His Majesty was killed by you."
Bellamy understood the implication immediately. "So, what exactly is the deal with this country's royal family?" These nobles acted as if the royalty were completely irrelevant.
"Ah, the royal family," the noble sighed, a touch dramatically. "In truth, all the nobles in this country share royal blood." He then gave his full name, "I am Lvneel Carter Niebert Bululu the Seventh. You may simply call me Niebert."
"Esteemed Mr. Bellamy," Niebert leaned forward slightly, an eager glint in his eyes, "the bloodline relationships here are exceedingly complex. Would you perhaps care to hear the details?"
Why is he looking at me with such anticipation? Bellamy's intuition screamed that agreeing would trap him in a genealogy lecture lasting several hours. "No, no thanks," he refused bluntly and decisively.
"Ah, what a terrible pity," Niebert said, his voice thick with genuine disappointment. "As I mentioned, this country's situation is rather complicated. As you've already seen, my personal guards are, shall we say... 'retired' pirates." He deliberately emphasized the word "retired," clearly implying a deeper meaning.
"Piracy is the most dangerous profession on these seas," Niebert continued smoothly. "Countless pirates meet tragic ends upon the waves each year. If I may be so bold as to inquire, Mr. Bellamy, what is it that compels you to risk life and limb sailing these treacherous waters?"
Bellamy stared impassively at the noble. Now he understood completely. These nobles were audacious – brazenly recruiting pirates to serve as their private enforcers, using the euphemism "retired" to cover it up. And this Niebert fellow was actually attempting to recruit him. Bellamy nearly laughed out loud.
"Me?" Bellamy replied flippantly. "I set sail because I was bored. There are just so many amazing stories out there on the sea; I couldn't resist the urge to go see them for myself."
This reason, simple yet profound, left Niebert momentarily speechless, unsure how to proceed with his recruitment pitch. "Has Mr. Bellamy never considered... settling down somewhere?" he tried, noticeably shifting from the formal 'Esteemed Sir' to 'Mr.' Bellamy noted the rapid change in address.
"Alright, I know what you're trying to say," Bellamy cut him off, mentally calculating that Mia and Muret should have finished their shopping by now. He held up a hand to halt Niebert's impending speech. "I'm leaving. If you plan on getting that bounty poster issued, just make sure you don't make me look too ugly." He tapped his own cheek. "Did you get a good look?"
"Now that we understand each other," Bellamy continued, his tone hardening slightly, "let's talk about my compensation."
Niebert's expression immediately soured. "Mr. Bellamy, can we truly not discuss this further?"
Seeing the apparent breakdown in negotiations, the "retired" pirates lounging in the corners of the room began to stir, stepping forward menacingly.
"Why waste so many words talking to him!" one snarled. "Some North Blue rookie dares to act this arrogant?" another sneered. "Kid, I was battling my way through the Grand Line when you were still suckling at your mother's teat!"
Grand Line? The words caught Bellamy's attention. He shot to his feet abruptly, accidentally knocking over the small tea table in the process. "You said... you've been to the Grand Line?"
"That's right!" the pirate retorted boastfully. "What about it? Scared now, kid?" The pirates around him erupted in mocking laughter.
"Then..." Bellamy asked, a sudden, unexpected surge of anticipation filling his voice, "have any of you been to the New World?"
The abrupt mention of the New World wiped the smirks clean off the pirates' faces. Their expressions instantly turned ugly. "None of your damn business, rookie!" one snapped back, the reaction far too aggressive, too defensive.
It told Bellamy everything he needed to know. They were just failures, runaways who had fled back from the Grand Line. His brief flicker of hope dissolved into sharp disappointment.
"Among you," Bellamy asked, though he held little real expectation from these escapees, "does anyone know how to use Armament Haki?"
The words had barely left his mouth when he immediately regretted asking. "Forget it, never mind." What's the point in asking? he thought grimly. Just put a knife to their throats. If they know how to use it, they will. If they don't... they can just go die.