Chapter 112: Population Auction
A Marine Headquarters Admiral was known as the highest combat power of both the Marines and the World Government.
Whether that title was truly absolute was something no one could say for certain. The sea was vast, and monsters were never polite enough to gather in one place and compare strength for the convenience of the world.
But one thing was undeniable.
An Admiral was dangerous.
Even Issho's expression grew a little heavier after hearing Eli's warning. He was friends with Tokikake and had sparred with him before. Tokikake was already a terrifyingly powerful man, yet an Admiral stood even above that level in the public eye.
Issho had never fought one himself.
That was exactly why he would not underestimate them.
After Eli finished explaining the danger, the group moved on.
They avoided the Marines as much as possible, slipping through the shifting crowds and crooked paths of the Sabaody Archipelago.
Meanwhile, Rear Admiral DeWitt arrived at the site of the meteor impact—Grove 8.
The numbered Yarukiman mangrove tree that had once marked the grove was gone. It had been crushed into ash and scorched fragments beneath the falling meteor. Since the entire archipelago was formed from the roots of enormous mangroves, the air carried a bitter, burnt smell.
Strangely enough, the fire had not spread.
Sabaody's resin bubbles, one of the archipelago's most famous natural features, had helped smother the flames before they could devour the surrounding roots.
DeWitt had originally intended to conduct only a brief investigation before moving on to disaster assessment and evacuation planning. If the meteor had damaged the underground root structure, nearby groves might become unstable. Evacuating civilians would be the safest choice.
But the moment he saw the crater, his face hardened.
The situation was wrong.
Very wrong.
Nearly the entire grove had been gouged out by the meteor. A massive black pit yawned where land should have been. And yet, in the center of that destruction, a small circular platform remained intact.
It was only a few meters high, held up by a narrow column of earth and root.
But it had survived.
If the meteor had fallen naturally, how could such a clean remnant be left behind?
Of course, there was another possibility.
A powerful individual had been standing there when the meteor fell and had protected that small patch of land.
DeWitt narrowed his eyes.
Whether the person had caused the destruction or merely survived it, one conclusion was the same.
This was not the work of an ordinary person.
"Collect every Den Den Mushi recording from the surrounding surveillance points," DeWitt ordered. "I want the identity of everyone who approached this grove today!"
"Yes, sir!"
While DeWitt began his investigation, Eli walked with Axel's group and carefully shifted the topic.
"So…" Eli rubbed his hands together. "Are you short-handed?"
Axel paused slightly.
Short-handed?
He had never really considered that question.
In terms of combat power, they were not lacking. In terms of money, they were not lacking either.
In terms of food, however…
That was a different matter.
Not because they could not afford food, but because none of them knew how to cook properly. There were also situations where etiquette, communication, and local knowledge mattered, and none of the three were particularly suited for that.
Still, they had survived until now without such a person.
So the real question was not whether they lacked manpower.
The real question was why Eli had asked.
Axel turned his head toward him. "You want to join us?"
"Yes," Eli answered without hesitation.
Seizing opportunities was one of his few real strengths. When a chance appeared, hesitation was just another way of throwing your life away.
"I'm not much of a fighter," he admitted quickly, "but surely you three need someone to handle odd jobs, errands, local negotiations, cooking, directions, and troublesome little things, right? I'm good at those."
Axel tilted his head, resting his chin on one hand.
"Do you have family?"
"No," Eli said casually. "I grew up here in Sabaody. I'm an orphan."
It was not the whole truth.
Orphans did not survive easily on the Sabaody Archipelago. Children were prime merchandise in the eyes of human traffickers, and the lawless zones were full of people who saw a child's life as nothing more than a price tag.
Axel asked directly, "Then how did you survive here?"
Eli's smile thinned.
"I was kidnapped and brought to this island. I escaped, then joined a gang with a bad reputation. They gave me protection."
He quickly added, "But I only begged for money. I never did anything wicked. I never helped with kidnapping, trafficking, or anything like that."
After learning what Axel's group intended to do, Eli understood one thing clearly.
These people moved according to their own sense of justice.
If they thought he had blood on his hands, he would not even get the chance to explain himself properly. So he spoke as fast and as clearly as he could.
"Is that true?" Issho asked.
His tone deepened slightly.
It was not loud, but Eli felt as though a weight had settled over him. After witnessing Issho's power, that small pressure was enough to make his back prickle with cold sweat.
Even so, he forced himself to stand straight.
"I've never done anything that would shame my conscience," Eli said, nervous but firm. "Even as a guide, I only took people around for a living. I never joined their transactions."
Issho listened quietly.
Then the pressure faded.
"I can see that."
Eli blinked.
See?
You're blind, aren't you?
What exactly can you see?
Before he could ask, Axel changed the subject.
"So, can you cook?"
The topic jumped so abruptly that Eli almost stumbled.
"Cook? Yes. I live alone, so I know a few dishes."
Issho's expression immediately became solemn.
"That is worth serious consideration."
Hawkins, who rarely showed much reaction to anything, actually gave a faint nod. One of his eyes even drifted toward Axel.
Axel noticed his look at once.
"What?" he said, clearly dissatisfied. "You think it makes sense to make a kid cook? It's not that bad, is it?"
Issho coughed twice.
"It is not merely a little bad," he said with painful honesty. "Eating your cooking is less satisfying than chewing dry rations."
"Even you, Uncle Issho…" Axel sighed.
He could not help it.
The seasonings in this world were different from what he was used to. Some smelled fine on their own, but the moment they were thrown together in a pot, the result became a disaster that challenged both the tongue and the soul.
Eli stared at them blankly for a moment, then slowly understood.
None of these three knew how to cook.
That was good.
Very good.
A useful person lived longer.
The atmosphere between them also made him feel slightly more at ease. In this world, attaching oneself to the strong was a basic rule of survival, but choosing who to follow was just as important.
Some powerful people treated the weak as tools.
Some treated companions as people, regardless of strength.
And then there were legendary figures like Whitebeard, who treated his crew as family.
Eli did not dare assume Axel's group was that kind of warm and grand existence, but at the very least, they were not the kind of people who casually crushed their own allies.
That was enough.
For now.
With Eli leading the way, they reached Grove 1 without running into any major trouble.
The Human Auction House stood at the center of the grove like a monument to everything rotten beneath Sabaody's glittering surface.
It was a massive structure, large enough to hold thousands of people. From the outside, it looked almost cylindrical, though the upper portion narrowed into a steep, conical roof. Tall stone pillars rose around it, each several stories high, giving the building a grand and oppressive presence.
Above the entrance hung a bold sign.
HUMAN.
One word.
Plain, shameless, and ugly.
It announced the nature of the business more clearly than any speech ever could.
People were the merchandise here.
Lives were weighed, priced, displayed, and sold beneath the protection of nobles, criminals, and the silent approval of power.
.....
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