Eustass Kid.
In the One Piece canon, he's one of the eleven Supernovas who emerged during the Sabaody Archipelago arc—pirates with bounties over 100 million berries, seen as the next generation of chaos. Alongside Luffy, Zoro, and other notorious figures, Kid earned infamy as part of the "Worst Generation." A violent and ruthless pirate, known for killing civilians who simply mocked him.
Maud instinctively marked Kid as a future target. But after a moment of contemplation, he reminded himself—he wouldn't rush to attack recklessly.
If the conditions were right, of course, Kid's "experience points" would be a valuable gain.
But if not… well, Maud had no delusions. Right now, he was weak—no nen, no devil fruit, no real combat power.
Just a "chicken," as some in Meteor City would say.
"This is the One Piece world…"
He withdrew his gaze and lowered his head slightly, concealing the subtle shift in his expression.
To see a younger Eustass Kid here—it was surreal, like a dramatic cue signaling that this world truly was the one he'd read about in his past life.
Memories of One Piece, long buried under years of neglect, suddenly surged back.
Those recollections were no longer just nostalgia—they were critical data, valuable assets for the Hunter's Note, Maud's Nen ability, which allowed him to log detailed profiles of targets and convert them into actual experience for skill development.
The appearance of Maud and Sunny momentarily defused the tension in the room.
Kid gave Maud a sidelong glance. The latter, head bowed, said nothing.
How could Kid know that this frail-looking figure had already marked him for future hunting?
And even if he did know, Kid would likely just scoff with that usual arrogant sneer.
Turning away from Maud, Kid addressed Sol directly, his tone dripping with disdain.
"Tch. So, where'd you pick up this stray coolie? Let me guess—he'll get hacked to pieces by nightfall and rot on some side street."
Sol, face deeply lined and eyes half-lidded with indifference, puffed at his ornate gold-trimmed pipe. The ashes scattered carelessly on the floor.
"In a place like Mad Hatter," Sol replied, "there's no shortage of undertakers. Even if this kid gets diced into fifty chunks, someone will still find a way to squeeze value out of him. So as long as he dies with some use, that's enough for me."
Maud remained silent but listened closely.
"Mad Hatter?"
"West Blue?"
Gunfire in the streets? Merchants selling weapons like vegetables?
He glanced toward the wall-lined shelves behind the counter. Swords, flintlocks, even dial-based weapons from Skypiea mixed in. This was a weapons shop—and not a legal one.
Clearly, Sol wasn't just a merchant—he was a fixer in a lawless port town where pirate and bounty hunter mingled alike.
Maud kept his expression steady. In a place like this, caution was survival.
Sol exhaled a plume of smoke and addressed Kid again. "Still, I've got hopes for you, Kid. Work under me, and not only will I hand over Keanu's rifle—I'll even throw in Salaman's twin daggers. Hell, I'll set up a long-term supply of the finest West Blue whisky for you."
"Get lost," Kid snapped. "I don't serve anyone."
"A shame," Sol replied with a lazy shake of the head, as if the outcome had already been decided long ago.
Maud took it all in—details that painted the picture of this underground world.
West Blue. Mad Hatter. Sol the arms dealer. And a young Eustass Kid who hadn't yet made his name in the Grand Line…
Sol's attitude was calculated—he clearly didn't fear Kid. And Kid's barely-restrained fury only confirmed it.
Sol then leapt from his stool and emerged from behind the counter.
Only then did Maud realize: Sol was short. Very short. Barely a meter tall.
A glance at the raised platform behind the counter made it clear—he'd been standing on a box to appear more imposing while talking to Kid.
Kidd's patience was waning. His voice was cold. "So, are you gonna sell the gun or not?"
Sol gave the burlap bag full of beri in Kid's hand a glance. "Where'd the money come from?"
Kid's forehead pulsed with anger. "None of your business. Are you selling it or not?"
He was only tolerating this because he knew Sol wasn't easy to deal with. In One Piece, people like Sol—the background merchants who supplied warlords, pirates, and revolutionaries alike—often had as much influence as a Yonko's officer.
Sol took another drag on his pipe. "Didn't I already say? I wouldn't sell Keanu's gun even if it were smashed to pieces and tossed in the trash."
Kid's jaw clenched. "Then toss it!"
Knock knock.
Sol tapped his pipe slowly against the cabinet, utterly unbothered. "Maybe I'll pick a lucky day to do it."
"You damned fossil!"
Despite his anger, Kid restrained himself.
That, to Maud, said everything.
Kid was no coward, but even he knew there were people you didn't provoke without cause. And Sol was clearly one of them.
Sunny, watching silently beside Maud, exhaled a long-suffering sigh.
She knew Sol too well.
For all his stinginess and sharp tongue, Sol wasn't a dog who bowed for profit. He hated arrogant customers—and had a twisted pride in his value-based worldview.
To him, if the price wasn't just monetary—but philosophical or personal—then even a "non-sale item" could change hands.
If you understood him, he'd sell you anything.
But Kid? Too arrogant to adjust his tone, too stubborn to play along. Hence, this farcical tug-of-war between buyer and seller.
What baffled Sunny most was that Sol tolerated Kid's rudeness at all.
He clearly saw something in the red-haired brat—but what?
Fed up, Kid spun on his heel and stormed toward the door, clutching his money bag.
"No delivery," Sol called after him blandly.
Kid didn't respond.
He'd almost reached the front door when—Bang!
The side door was kicked open with brutal force.
A man stepped through, his massive blade still wet with blood.
He reeked of death, his clothes stained and torn, his breathing heavy with killing intent.
The wooden door slammed against the wall and nearly broke off its hinges.
His eyes locked immediately on Kid—and more specifically, on the bulging sack of cash in his hand.
Murderous rage twisted his face.
Maud instinctively tensed.
This was One Piece.
Here, even a casual trip to a shop could explode into chaos.
Little brat, I've been looking for you for a while now."
"Where did this mangy stray come from?"
Kidd looked at the man indifferently, the corners of his sharp lips twitching into a smirk.
In front of the counter, Sol narrowed his eyes. First, he glanced at the wooden door to the right—still bearing the marks of Kidd's earlier boot—then turned his attention to the door on the left, now hanging ajar after being kicked in by the bloodstained newcomer.
Trouble had a scent.
And Old Sol could already smell it.
Emotion twisted across his weathered features like a stormcloud.
The man with the machete had eyes only for Kidd. He ignored everyone else in the room as he stepped forward, weapon at the ready, a hateful glare locked on the red-haired teen.
"I've got a bounty of 11 million berries on my head," the man growled, voice like gravel. "They call me the Executioner—"
Smack!
He didn't get to finish.
Before he could puff up with his own infamy, Sol was suddenly behind him, and with a casual swing of his small palm, slapped him unconscious.
The man collapsed instantly, eyes rolling back in his head.
Kidd's pupils narrowed. He was standing closest to the man—yet even he hadn't caught Sol's movement.
That old bastard… definitely not ordinary.
Sol landed with the grace of someone who'd done this a hundred times before. With his small stature, he'd clearly leapt to reach the pirate's head—otherwise, he'd barely be able to slap his kneecap.
Sol didn't even glance at the unconscious intruder. His expression remained as flat as ever.
He turned his head toward Kidd, who still hadn't moved.
"Well?" Sol said lightly. "You staying for dinner or what?"
Kidd's jaw twitched. Without a word, he turned and stormed out, his boots thudding hard against the wooden floor.
As the shop door creaked shut, Sol exhaled and began locking the entrance.
Sunny stepped up beside him and said under her breath, "You're being too friendly to Kidd."
"Friendly?" Sol turned to her, arching a brow. "Maybe 'eccentric' is the word you're looking for."
"Yeah." Sunny nodded, then squatted beside the unconscious pirate. As she began rifling through his coat for valuables, she repeated, "Still, you're too eccentric toward Kidd."
Sol chuckled. He stashed away his gilded pipe, then picked up the machete the pirate had dropped. It was still smeared with blood.
"This world isn't fair. Never was. Everything's about value—black or white, justice or evil, doesn't matter. I favor Kidd because he's worth the effort of being 'eccentric.'"
As he spoke, Sol wiped the machete clean with a stained cloth, then casually walked to a nearby shelf and placed the weapon neatly among the other merchandise.
The pirate's life was gone, but his blade had already been recycled into product.
Maud watched the smooth, unspoken teamwork between Sol and Sunny with a flicker of admiration.
Their ability to turn violence into business was… almost professional.
Sol approached the unconscious man and gave him a light kick in the forehead.
"Shame," he muttered. "This guy's head was probably worth a few beri, but no one's gonna pay a bounty we can't prove. What was his name again?"
"Evan Watt," Sunny replied, standing and placing several pilfered valuables on the counter. "Captain of the Ghost Knife Pirates. Nicknamed the Executioner. A mid-tier swordsman from West Blue. Bounty's 11 million berries."
She'd taken the liberty of finishing the pirate's interrupted introduction herself—professional courtesy from a self-deprecating intelligence agent in Mad Hatter Town.
"Oh."
Sol scratched his chin and turned his eyes toward Maud, who had remained quietly in the corner.
"You. Come here."
Maud stepped forward silently.
Sol looked up at him, frowned, then lightly slapped Maud's knee. "You gonna respect your elders or what? Do I need to spell it out?"
Maud blinked, then instantly understood. He dropped into a cross-legged position on the floor, bringing himself eye-level with Sol.
Finally satisfied with the adjusted height, Sol gave a curt nod and examined Maud more closely.
The boy's calmness hadn't escaped his notice—he had watched the entire scene without flinching or blurting a word. That kind of control wasn't common.
"What's your name?"
"Bacardi Maud."
That was the name printed on the ID he carried, and fortunately, it matched the one he'd used earlier. Less explaining to do.
"Bacardi, huh…" Sol muttered. His gaze drifted toward Sunny again.
"The rum brand," she offered.
"Ahh! That's right!" Sol snapped his fingers. "Their stuff's good. Read something in the paper the other day—didn't their merchant ship get hit recently? Armed escort, big haul of product… pirates wiped 'em out. Even the head of the family was on board. No survivors."
Sunny nodded. "Confirmed. A pirate crew ambushed them near Spider Miles. Total slaughter."
"Hmph. Now that's interesting."
Sol's eyes narrowed as he turned his focus back to Maud.
Then, without warning, he pulled out a small utility blade—barely bigger than a fruit knife—and held it out to him with a casual smile.
"Time to sever ties with the past. Kill this Evan Watt."
"No problem," Maud replied immediately.
He accepted the blade without hesitation. His expression remained calm, but his heart was pounding with excitement.
This was perfect.
A free kill. A named pirate. Eleven million berries. A known swordsman from West Blue.
A jackpot of experience points.
Maud looked down at the unconscious body of Watt.
Evan Watt. The Executioner. I will remember you.
He felt a spark of reverence as he held the blade.
Sol, meanwhile, seemed increasingly pleased with Maud's decisive attitude.
Then Maud spoke again.
"I need to use the bathroom first."
"…." —Sol.
"…." —Sunny.