Chapter Forty-Nine: A Promising Prospect

Caught off guard by a sudden cry of “Mama,” Sunny stood frozen in place. It wasn’t the fact that she’d been called “Mama” that stunned her—it was Bailey speaking human words.

“A Devil Fruit user?”

That was Sunny’s immediate thought. Once she deduced that Bailey had likely eaten a Devil Fruit, her feelings grew suddenly complicated. The Devil Fruit she’d dreamed of, devoured by a stinky skunk?

Mod’s reaction was far less dramatic than Sunny’s, and he didn’t jump to any obvious conclusions. After all, animals able to speak weren’t necessarily Devil Fruit eaters.

Saul, expressionless, looked at Bailey, whose desire to survive was practically pouring out of him, slowly withdrew his hand, and turned to glance at the two standing in the doorway.

“Who brought this little thing here?”

Sunny raised her hand and pointed directly at Mod.

Mod: “…”

Ten minutes later, everyone was seated around the dinner table. Bailey, his upper body bound tightly like a dumpling, lay sprawled on the floor beside the table. In front of him sat two slabs of meat and a pile of vegetables. An almost humane supper, which brought him a measure of comfort to his wounded heart.

Saul stuffed a chunk of chicken thigh into his mouth, chewed a few times, swallowed, and then glanced at Bailey gnawing on his meat.

“He’s quite well hidden, this little thing.”

Bailey was instantly recognized by Saul as one of the auction’s goods. The reason Saul had almost crushed Bailey’s skull was that he’d sensed a faint malice emanating from the skunk. Saul was sensitive to such malice; his action was almost a reflex. Had Bailey not spoken at that critical moment, Saul certainly wouldn’t have stopped in time. Fortunately, Saul was a master of martial arts, quick both to strike and to withdraw; otherwise, Bailey would have already become a headless corpse.

“Bailey didn’t eat a Devil Fruit, so how can he talk?” Sunny looked at Bailey, puzzled.

Earlier, Saul had already resolved the Devil Fruit question for Sunny with an extremely rare Sea-Prism Stone bullet. But this brought about a new mystery.

Mod refrained from offering his opinion, silently eating his food. In his current role, it was inappropriate for him to explain things to Sunny.

Saul, knowing the truth, explained, “In the Grand Line, there’s an isolated race called the Mink Tribe. This little fellow likely has some connection to them, but the inherited bloodline is clearly incomplete—even diluted, you might say—which is why he turned out this way.”

“The Mink Tribe? What kind of people are they?” Sunny’s expression shifted.

Bailey at the table slowed his chewing, pricking up his ears to listen to Saul’s explanation. Born different, he’d left his own kind early on. He’d always been troubled by his uniqueness, and even risked venturing into human society to find answers—only to be caught in the end.

Saul was unwilling to elaborate further and said dismissively, “Just think of the Mink Tribe as a bunch of humans who’ve eaten Zoan-type Devil Fruits.”

Beside him, Mod almost choked on Saul’s explanation. Yet, on reflection, it made a certain sense.

Sunny nodded in sudden understanding, instantly conjuring an image of the Mink Tribe in her mind.

Saul took several more bites of meat, then sighed, “Mod, you’ve stumbled upon a treasure. A Mink of such diluted bloodline is rare; I’ve only seen a handful in my whole life. If the auction had known his true origin, they’d never have left him here to be sold.”

“That’s a bit much. He’s only worth some money.” Mod didn’t regard Bailey as any sort of treasure. If Saul wanted to exchange Bailey for the Chidori, Mod would gladly eat his words.

“Whether it’s a treasure depends on how you use it.” Saul took a deep swig of wine, his eyes glinting.

“Decades ago, a pirate rookie burst onto the Grand Line, accompanied by a sleek black hunting cat—a Mink of diluted bloodline, much like this little one. Though its appearance was like any ordinary animal, it was intelligent and could speak as we do. Those unfamiliar with the cat assumed it had eaten a Devil Fruit, which was true—but not a Human-Human Fruit, nor any fruit related to language. It was… an Arms-Arms Fruit.”

“Because that hunting cat ate the Arms-Arms Fruit, many seasoned pirates fell prey to that rookie’s schemes. I was young and spirited then, and nearly got caught myself.”

“Even now, I owe much of my survival to the lesson that cat taught me back then.”

Speaking in a tone tinged with nostalgia, Saul raised his cup and drank deeply.

Listening to Saul’s tale, Mod immediately pictured a cunning old fox and couldn’t help glancing at Bailey.

He knew there was a technology that could make weapons eat Zoan-type Devil Fruits, but never imagined someone would feed an Arms-Arms Fruit to an animal. On reflection, it seemed plausible, though animals were still animals.

There were too many drawbacks…

But a Mink of diluted bloodline like Bailey, at least in terms of eating Devil Fruits, was little different from a human—and functional Devil Fruits weren’t limited to just Arms-Arms. With the right approach, there was a potential for a low-tier dual-ability user.

Still, whether it was worth investing a Devil Fruit in a mere pet was another matter. Regardless, Bailey was a stock with potential.

Thinking this, Mod looked at Bailey with newfound interest, picked up a drumstick, and placed it in front of him.

Bailey: “…”

Sunny, too, was watching Bailey after Saul’s explanation, though her thoughts went in a different direction from Mod’s—her original intention remained.

“What a waste.” Sunny shook her head. In her view, she’d never let a pet eat a Devil Fruit. Such things weren’t common; even encountering one in a lifetime was rare. It was simply a matter of perspective.

To ordinary people, a Devil Fruit was a rare treasure. But Mod knew that in pirate crews like Doflamingo’s or among the Emperors, most officers had a Devil Fruit, and a handful would even waste them without a care.

It was just that, for the truly powerful, what others see as treasures eventually turn into common goods.

“So, selling Bailey is still the best option.” According to Sunny’s values, wasting a Devil Fruit on Bailey was unthinkable. Her priority was naturally to exchange him for money.

“But Bailey called you Mama. Selling him wouldn’t be right, would it?”

Though Bailey didn’t have an Arms-Arms Fruit, Mod now considered him a potential asset and had no intention of selling him.

No sooner had he spoken than a chicken bone flew his way, accompanied by Sunny’s icy, frosty glare.

Bailey had suddenly called her Mama.

Sunny herself was utterly baffled.

How could she know that Bailey had called her Mama simply because she’d given him a name?