Baxter hunched over, moving with slow, careful steps as he focused completely on protecting the sign, as if it were some priceless treasure.
Even more ironic was the work permit hanging openly around his neck.
City Appearance Renovation Supervisor.
That little card, which should have symbolized authority and order, looked painfully out of place on him.
A human trafficker who had once committed every kind of evil in the dark had now become an official representative in charge of maintaining the city's appearance.
The contrast was so absurd it felt like fate itself was telling a cruel joke.
...
The underground auction house.
The place was filled with an old, damp smell, every inch of air soaked in darkness and years of decay.
Following the winding, wet stairs downward, one could feel the moisture seeping from the stone slabs with every step.
Once, this place, known as the Black Pearl Auction House, had been a name enough to make people turn pale.
In the past, it had been filled with sinful, bloody transactions. Countless tragic stories had unfolded here.
But now, everything had changed completely.
The entire venue was brightly lit.
The clear light drove away the gloom of the past, illuminating every corner without mercy.
On one side of the hall, the rusty iron cages that had once been used to imprison pitiful victims had long since lost their original purpose.
They had been roughly cut apart into heaps of scrap metal and piled messily in a corner, like forgotten remains of history, silently speaking of the darkness that had come before.
On the spacious auction stage stood a young instructor dressed in the standard uniform of the Eternal Divine Kingdom.
His posture was straight, his expression serious and focused.
At that moment, he was explaining in detail to the large holographic projection in front of him.
"Welding is a precise and important skill. It is divided into several types, including flat welding, vertical welding, horizontal welding… Each type has its own specific operating points and techniques."
His voice was clear and powerful, echoing throughout the entire venue.
Seated neatly below the stage were more than twenty former slave traders.
They had once been participants in this dark world, their hands stained with the blood of the innocent.
Now, heavy electronic shackles were fastened around them, both a restraint and a punishment for their past crimes.
Their eyes were filled with complicated emotions—regret, confusion, and a faint hope for a new life.
In the very front row sat a man named "Scarface" Jim.
His face was covered in scars of varying depth, marks left behind by his violent past.
At the moment, he was listening to the instructor's explanation with full concentration, clumsily taking notes in a notebook.
Three fingers on his right hand were missing, but now he had been fitted with an advanced mechanical prosthetic produced by Germa.
The prosthetic gleamed with metallic light.
It was now both part of his body and a special "training tool."
According to the rules, only after he successfully completed the training course would he be allowed to keep the prosthetic permanently.
"Pay attention!"
The instructor suddenly raised his voice and swung the pointer in his hand.
With a crisp smack, it struck Jim's shiny bald head with perfect accuracy.
"There will be a strict assessment next week. Anyone who fails will be sent to repair the sea bridge! Conditions there are harsh, and it won't be as easy as sitting here!"
The instructor's stern gaze swept across everyone below the stage, warning them that they had better give it their all.
Inside the city stood a unique establishment called the Giant Whale Tavern.
The first thing one saw after stepping inside was the wide, exquisite bar counter.
It looked like the back of a sleeping giant whale, carrying an ancient and mysterious air.
At that moment, the enormous holographic projector above the bar was tirelessly looping a promotional film for the Eternal Divine Kingdom.
Brilliant light intertwined into fantastical images, displaying the Divine Kingdom's grand scenery in full: towering castles reaching into the clouds, soldiers dressed in magnificent armor, magic arrays shining with mysterious light…
Every detail seemed to speak of that distant nation's glory and splendor.
Within that field of light and shadow, Ron's three-dimensional image stood prominently.
His posture was upright, his voice loud and inspiring as he passionately explained the so-called "new order of the North Blue."
As the promotional film continued, the moment the image shifted to a thrilling scene of submitted pirates happily receiving Devil Fruits, the entire tavern instantly boiled over.
The customers, who had been drinking with their heads lowered or casually chatting about trivial matters, all raised their heads at once.
Their eyes burned with blazing light, and then waves of envious whistles erupted.
The sound rose and fell like surging waves, echoing endlessly in the cramped space, as though everyone were venting the desire for power and wealth buried deep inside their hearts.
The bartender, "Venom Fang" Leonardo, wiped the cup in his hand with far more force than necessary.
Under his bar, there had once been twelve flintlock pistols hidden away.
Now, all of them had been melted down and recast into steel nails for renovation work.
"Get me a rum…"
A certain great pirate who had once carried a bounty of three hundred million slapped the table, only to instinctively lower his voice when he saw the patrol team pass by.
On his mechanical right arm, the armband of the Municipal Fire Brigade still carried burn marks from last night's firefighting.
Out on the street, the scene looked like a painting of magical realism.
Sunlight filtered through mottled clouds and fell across the somewhat worn yet lively road, coating everything in a layer of mysterious color.
On the main road, amid the rising dust, "Bonecrusher" Hank was fully focused as he led his well-trained construction crew in repairing the pavement in a tense but orderly manner.
He was tall and powerfully built, his muscles bulging like forged steel.
Every inch of his skin seemed to tell of the strength and ferocity of his past.
This terrifying monster, who had once been strong enough to punch straight through a warship's heavy deck, now seemed like a completely different person.
He cared deeply about a tiny three-centimeter error on the design blueprint, to the point of being downright fussy over it.
At times, he crouched down and carefully examined the condition of the road.
At other times, he stood up and pointed instructions at his subordinates, sternly emphasizing the importance of every single detail.
"Damn it, they really are paying wanted criminals wages…"
Hank muttered unhappily under his breath, his voice low and rough with a trace of resentment he could not quite hide.
And yet, in his hands, he was carefully holding the Employee of the Month badge that symbolized honor, gently wiping it with a soft cloth until it shone like new, as though it were the most precious treasure in the world!