Chapter Forty-Five: Baby-5 and Buffalo

From the appearance alone, given the way Devil Fruits grow, no one in their right mind would ever consider swallowing something that looks so unappetizing. Yet, reality often proves otherwise. Many people, upon stumbling upon a Devil Fruit by sheer chance, inexplicably end up eating the thing—and just as inexplicably, receive a bizarre new power in return.

In the end, they all cannot help but sigh with the same sentiment: “This stuff tastes absolutely vile.”

Just like Ain.

Because every Devil Fruit’s power is unique and its ability impossible to determine from its appearance, the only way to match a fruit to its effect is for someone to eat it first. Only then can the fruit’s form and power be recorded together in an encyclopedia—a feat that alone reveals just how difficult it must have been to compile such a guide in the first place.

Acquiring this knowledge is, without a doubt, extraordinarily challenging. Imagine the task of tracking down everyone who has ever tasted these fruits that are said to taste like filth—what an utterly repulsive…no, what a phenomenally complicated endeavor that would be.

All things considered, after finding the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia in the library, Qiubai decided to memorize some of the more special fruits. He had no intention of eating any himself; in fact, he had never once considered swallowing anything reputed to taste so peculiar.

Still, some fruits were worth remembering, as certain abilities could prove extremely useful—such as the Clear-Clear Fruit… or, ahem, the Dark-Dark Fruit.

Just imagine snatching the Dark-Dark Fruit ahead of time and then watching Blackbeard wail in despair—it would be an amusing sight indeed.

But there was no hurry. Qiubai wasn’t yet plotting to feed any wretched thing to anyone; it was far too early for that. So, he took his time, memorizing a few fruits whenever he had a spare moment.

In any case, these little secretive endeavors of Qiubai were hardly worth mentioning. What truly mattered in the Donquixote Family at present was the return of the top executive, Rosinante.

His return had thrown certain plans of Doflamingo’s into utter disarray, even threatening to bring them to ruin.

…

“What will happen to them after they leave the Donquixote Family?” Ain asked Qiubai.

Another group of children had chosen to escape, and curiously, no one had tried to stop them.

Qiubai tilted his head in thought before replying, “Who can say?”

In truth, the answer was not “Who can say?” but rather, everyone already knew. Yet, neither was willing to voice that outcome aloud.

These children, lured to Doflamingo’s side for various reasons, would hardly have any means to survive on their own once they left. Considering their age, the answer could only be a resounding no.

So, to Ain’s question, Qiubai could only answer that he didn’t know—it was better not to know, to spare someone needless heartache.

Some people may appear cold but are warm-hearted within. Qiubai wasn’t sure if his own temperament was particularly cold, but he understood precisely what kind of person Ain was.

To drive these recently arrived children away from Doflamingo’s hellish grasp, Rosinante had, upon his return, taken up the persona of a man who “hated children.” Under this guise, he subjected the newcomers to shockingly cruel abuse—beatings, neglect, and indiscriminate abandonment. In short, Rosinante played the role of the perfect villain; pain and blood could break the will of most humans, all the more so mere children.

Thus, the abused children began to flee.

At heart, Rosinante’s actions were well-intentioned, but whether this was ultimately for good or ill for the children, Qiubai truly could not judge.

The matter of “life and death” will always precede questions of “good and evil.” Remaining with the Donquixote Family at least ensured these children’s survival. But what awaited them if they left?

If Rosinante, using his position, had informed the Navy to take in the children and arrange for their future, then his actions would be wholly justified. But if he hadn’t?

The consequences were easy to imagine—but conjecture remained conjecture. What would truly become of the children after their departure, Qiubai could not say. Ultimately, this was something beyond his concern or his power to resolve.

Moreover, Rosinante acted with such speed that Doflamingo failed to mount any effective response—or perhaps, for reasons of his own, did not interfere much with his brother’s “brutal” methods. At any rate, his plan to “cultivate officers from childhood” was now in ruins.

Overall, Rosinante’s actions had been highly effective. On his third day back, fewer than a tenth of the original hundred children remained.

That Rosinante could drive nearly everyone away in just two days was proof of his ruthlessness—it surpassed even Pica’s previous methods in brutality. Even so, not all the children could be turned out so easily.

There were always those who, crying as they were beaten, refused to utter a word or leave—one of them even a girl.

There were also those who stubbornly persisted in pursuit of their grand dream of becoming pirates, but their appearance, height, and build hardly qualified them as children anymore.

As Qiubai recalled, these two remained with Doflamingo—if memory served, their names were… Baby-5 and Buffalo.

“Want to go down and take a look?” Qiubai asked Ain.

Ain cast him a glance, then turned and left. Her answer was clear—she had no interest.

Some people like to pet cats, others dogs, but he had never heard of anyone eager to “pet” children… Though, in this world, raising children as pets was hardly illegal.

Qiubai descended the heap of refuse, heading straight for what had once been the training ground but was now Rosinante’s chamber of torment.

Sensing someone’s approach, Rosinante paused his actions. In the few short days they’d known each other, he found Qiubai—his supposed subordinate—utterly perplexing. More pressingly, he dwelled on the cryptic words Qiubai had spoken to him earlier.

So young, yet so mysterious… Had his role as a spy been discovered? No, impossible—Rosinante immediately dismissed the thought. If not even Doflamingo could detect anything amiss, how could a young man possibly see through him?

What Rosinante did not know was that Qiubai had, in fact, discovered nothing—he simply already knew everything from “before.”

Qiubai stopped a few meters behind Rosinante, crouched down, and beckoned to the little girl.

Baby-5’s nature was just as she displayed now: afraid and uncertain of the man before her, but since he called her, she could only obey and walk over.

Her background was pitiable, and as a girl, she more easily evoked others’ sympathy… Of course, that sympathy was reserved for ordinary folk; for certain twisted individuals, it might evoke much else.

Those who fell somewhere between the two might even use such a little girl to carry out some grand plan—perhaps as a future solution for their own loneliness.

Baby-5 trembled as she stood before Qiubai, blood staining her clothes—Rosinante, for the sake of his own mission and against his own principles, had not hesitated to act.

Qiubai brushed the dust from the little girl’s clothes, wiped the blood from her face, and placed a hand gently atop her head.

She really was quite adorable at this age—and, more importantly, incredibly easy to fool… The only problem was that, in time, she would grow up to become that kind of battle-maid.