Chapter Ninety-Six: Like Me (Part Two)

“Stop right there.”
A young marine unceremoniously blocked Qiubai, who was walking with his head down toward the navy base.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Qiubai was a pirate; any marine with a sense of duty would do the same. The area ahead was not somewhere young, “frail” people like him should venture.
Besides, his attire was perpetually unchanged, resembling a country five-star hotel’s waiter... At the very least, he should have a sword strapped to his back.
Of course, the place Qiubai was heading to wasn’t a “core area,” but rather a section open to specific professions, a “shared intelligence zone.”
“The area ahead is restricted to bounty hunters only. It’s not open to the general public. If you need assistance, please go to...”
This marine treated Qiubai, an “ordinary citizen,” with a friendly attitude, lacking any of the rumored disdain.
The navy was a vast organization, not solely military in nature. At times, it functioned much like a police force, responsible for maritime patrols and other civil duties.
Qiubai’s appearance here could easily be that of someone who’d lost a sibling at sea, coming to “report an incident.”
“I’m a bounty hunter.”
Qiubai’s unexpected response was delivered with such seriousness that it was clear he wasn’t joking.
“...”
Though there were no age restrictions for bounty hunters, the young marine hesitated, wanting to inquire further. But an older marine, who looked to have guarded this gate for at least twenty years, pulled him aside and promptly made way for Qiubai, indicating he could proceed.
This was the difference between the seasoned and the green. Pirate hunters had neither licenses nor certifications; few had names worth remembering, and most were just scraping by, dealing with petty criminals. The navy’s rule was simple: only bounty hunters allowed. If someone claimed to be one, that was enough. The rest? Best not to complicate matters.
The longer one lived, the more one understood truths like “the gap between people is greater than between humans and dogs.” Young bounty hunters, strong beyond their years, and those who had survived lengthy careers, were not unheard of.
If you hadn’t seen one, you’d at least have heard tales.
If you hadn’t even heard of them... perhaps the person before you was one.
Bounty hunters were barely better regarded than pirates among the populace; there was little value in impersonation. Besides, this was a “public” area with no sensitive intelligence worth stealing.
Luckily, Qiubai was after nothing secret, seeking information of a rather public nature.
He bypassed the gatekeeping marine and headed inside... but the ordeal wasn’t over. A few steps further, Qiubai was again stopped.
This time, two female marines stood before him, their uniforms marking them as clerical staff rather than combat personnel.

“Bounty hunter? First visit here?” Despite her gender, which might have won more goodwill, her demeanor was strictly businesslike, colder than the rough men outside—though the navy had no need to be friendly to bounty hunters.
“Yes.” Qiubai nodded and admitted it without hesitation; impersonating a bounty hunter cost nothing.
“Then please register your name and basic information.”
Without a second thought, Qiubai took the pen and form, filling out each item—name, age, gender, birthplace, and so forth. All fabricated, of course.
As Qiubai was nonchalantly completing the form, something suddenly flashed—
“A camera? Photograph?”
Correction: impersonating a bounty hunter did have its risks. As a pirate, being photographed by the navy was not ideal.
“It’s a photo for the record. Is there a problem?” The marine’s tone was icy.
“No, but at least make me look good. Honestly, I’m not used to old-fashioned cameras without beauty filters.” Qiubai joked, flashing a peace sign for the camera.
“This is standard protocol for new bounty hunters or those newly arrived... All right, you may proceed.” The female marine, uninterested in what a “filter” was, dismissed Qiubai once the formalities were done.
Qiubai fell silent, heading deeper into the next room... The photo was a bit unsettling, but he couldn’t afford to react excessively. If he panicked or fled, it would only arouse suspicion.
Even if nothing was amiss, the navy would treat him as a suspect, so—though he was helpless—Qiubai wouldn’t bring trouble upon himself.
The inner room was a data library for bounty hunters, filled with navy-issued intelligence, nothing more than compiled reports—nothing secret, just systematized information. Inside were new and old pirate bounty posters, profiles of infamous and violent pirate crews in the North Sea, and so on.
Dominating the most prominent spot was a blond man in sunglasses and feathers—Donquixote Doflamingo, the most dangerous pirate in the North Sea.
The entire Donquixote family took up considerable space, but small fry like Qiubai, without a bounty, were not among them; otherwise, he wouldn’t have entered so easily.
Apart from Donquixote, Qiubai quickly identified the pirate flag he sought—the identity of those who attacked him that day.
The flag was striking, and Qiubai had heard its name more than once.
He’d never imagined he’d become entangled with them personally. Truly, the sea was wondrous, connecting unrelated people with ease.
In short order, Qiubai confirmed the identity of his attacker—the Komodo Pirate Crew.
No wonder the flag seemed familiar; he’d glimpsed it before. However, upon a brief tally, Qiubai realized this pirate crew’s total bounty exceeded 500 million Berries.
Simple, yet troublesome.
Simple, because now that the target was confirmed, everything else was straightforward. Troublesome, because the pirate crew seemed beyond Qiubai’s abilities. But... it didn’t matter.

Though Qiubai appeared carefree, he was stubborn to the core. At times his motives were inscrutable, but whatever he decided, he would not change.
Other bounty hunters were present, clustered around a notice. Qiubai went over for a look and found it was a navy warning for bounty hunters to reduce activity in the near future.
The navy was deploying large forces to purge pirates, hoping bounty hunters would keep a low profile to avoid accidental harm.
Such operations weren’t rare; every so often, the navy would launch sweeping crackdowns. This time, it likely related to the North Sea navy’s recent string of embarrassments.
Last year’s Meow Galapagos incident and this year’s Vice Admiral’s flagship sinking—everywhere in the North Sea navy, disgrace abounded. Even if only to save face—or rather, to uphold the navy’s prestige—they would take action.
Navy operations would restrict pirates’ movements; for Qiubai, this was advantageous. The Komodo Pirate Crew would likely be stranded in this sea. If he needed to find them, he could start from the site of the previous incident.
With this plan settled, Qiubai turned back and picked up two bounty posters. This simple act drew the attention of several other bounty hunters.
Picking up such posters meant this young bounty hunter had his sights set on major pirate figures:
Kuntukuka, bounty 220 million Berries, known as “Thorn Tree,” captain of the Komodo Pirate Crew.
Yamodaru, bounty 105 million Berries, known as “Iron Wall,” Komodo Pirate Crew’s vice captain.
So... was he out of his mind with greed? Did he think this money was easy to claim?
“Hey there, kid, planning to take on Komodo? Want to team up with us?” someone called out.
Whatever the true meaning, the tone lacked both sincerity for “cooperation” and the basic goodwill of comrades.
“Sorry, maybe next time. I want to go alone this time.” Qiubai folded the two posters and tucked them into his pocket.
“Hah? You think you’ll have a next—” The mocking words were cut short, abruptly silenced.
He had met the young man’s eyes.
“Is there a problem?”
“N-no.”
This guy’s murderous intent was seeping out.