Chapter Fifty: A Sense of Fulfillment

Having realized Bailey’s potential value, Maud decided to keep him. At the same time, he found himself intrigued by the new up-and-coming pirate Sol had mentioned. After the meal, Maud questioned Sol further about this rising star’s exploits.

Sol, perhaps reminded of his own past, grew animated; he drank glass after glass, words spilling out as freely as the wine. Maud and Sunny became ideal listeners, quietly absorbing the stories of yesteryear. Only when Sol was utterly drunk did the reminiscence come to an end.

After Sol retired to his room, Maud helped Sunny tidy up, then each returned to their quarters. As for Bailey, his newfound worth meant he no longer had to purify the air in the restroom, but every chain that bound him remained in place.

Back in his room, Maud removed his weights and sat down on the bed. With a thought, the Hunter’s Notebook appeared before him. His gaze swept over the faint points of starlight on the cover; only the star representing the fishman Sam had grown a tiny new tip.

He opened the notebook and, pencil in hand, began to jot down and sketch on the blank pages—each stroke a fragment of memory from the original story. This was a daily exercise he never neglected, a way to reinforce recollections and bring fading images into sharp focus. Tedious though it might be, it was vital.

After finishing his routine review, Maud put the Hunter’s Notebook away and pulled out the “Memoir Copy” to read through twice before setting it aside and lying down.

Once in bed, Maud summoned the Hunter’s Notebook again. He stared at the second blank silver line on the cover, lost in thought. The battle with Ebbe had pushed him further toward the path of swordsmanship. Compared to fists, swords were superior in both length and hardness—and a longer reach meant less risk, aligning perfectly with Maud’s preferred approach.

He drew the quill from the spine of the notebook, yet hesitated to write. There was no longer any reason to waver, but the story of that new pirate, as told by Sol, had planted many ideas in his mind.

According to Sol, that upstart pirate was not only a master of martial arts but also skilled with blades, firearms, and even some of the less common weapons. On top of that, he’d eaten a Zoan-type fruit that enhanced his physical attributes, then paired it with the Hunter Cat’s Weapon Fruit, creating a unique and formidable fighting style.

However, as Sol recounted, while this pirate shone brilliantly at first, he quickly faded into obscurity. “Biting off more than you can chew—everyone understands that. No matter how gifted he was, in the end, he went no further,” Sol had said, his words dripping with irony, even shooting Maud a warning glance.

Maud took this cautionary tale to heart. He knew well the folly of overreaching—at least, without the Hunter’s Notebook at his disposal. With such a power, Maud could save time and energy others couldn’t, avoiding the fate of that fallen star.

So, if Bailey were to eat the Weapon Fruit, and Maud wrote down a requirement like “Weapon Mastery”...

Then, when a gun was needed, he could become a gun; when a sword was required, transform into a sword; when an axe was called for, become an axe. Such versatility in battle would leave foes utterly confounded.

This, precisely, was why Maud hesitated to commit his thoughts to paper. He’d already dismissed the idea of Weapon Mastery, but Bailey’s arrival, coupled with Sol’s tales, had resurrected it.

If he could use the Hunter’s Notebook to navigate the difficult early and middle stages, then the possibilities of the future were enough to set his blood alight.

The thought excited him, but he did not let his dreams run unchecked. If he couldn’t survive the beginning, there would be no future to speak of.

Moreover, leaving aside the challenge of winning Bailey’s loyalty, even acquiring the Weapon Fruit was no easy task in the short term. To do so would mean risking open conflict with Doflamingo.

But the greatest challenge was the unavoidable “diversion of gains.” Maud gradually calmed himself. The future he envisioned was alluring, but the obstacles were many, and without clearing them, his plans would remain nothing but fantasy.

“I can’t let my ‘gains’ be so scattered anymore. From now on, I need to consider things like Haki and Devil Fruits as well,” he thought.

After long deliberation, Maud was not swayed by the story of that new pirate. He wrote down “Sword Mastery” as his next requirement. Decision made, he still harbored great expectations for Bailey’s future.

It would be ideal if Bailey could consume the Weapon Fruit, but even if not, he could still seek out a Devil Fruit with support potential.

Maud put the notebook away and closed his eyes. His thoughts swirled with creative ideas for how best to make use of Bailey’s “tool qualities.”

...

In the days that followed, even after recording his second requirement, Maud stayed dutifully at the shop. He was certain that Ebbe and Kazte would come looking for trouble, so in order to have Sol as his shield, he feigned an eagerness to learn firearms, convincing Sol—who practiced on the flower street every morning—to stick around.

Yet after several days, not a single sign of trouble appeared. The peace left Maud truly puzzled. This made no sense.

Unable to figure it out, he took the opportunity to absorb the experience points from his neighbors at numbers 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. After harvesting the “chives” growing close to home, he even asked Sunny if there were any new ones to reap.

Regrettably, perhaps because his rate of harvesting was too high, the locals had grown anxious. Not only had no new “chives” moved in, but even the less promising ones had begun to leave.

The newly acquired household member, Bailey, overheard Maud and Sunny’s casual conversation. From then on, Bailey rarely dared meet Maud’s gaze. He knew that the humans living in this town were far from good people, but just picturing Maud’s impassive face as he took down those “little birds” with his gun filled Bailey with dread.

On the fifth day, Maud stopped trying to keep Sol around. Once Sol had left, Maud finally gave in to his urge to handle a sword, drawing a visually appealing long blade from the shelf.

Sunny, who was reading the newspaper, looked up. “What are you doing?”

“Just testing the feel,” Maud replied with a grin, hand on the scabbard.

Sunny frowned. “If Sol finds out, he’ll probably skin you alive.”

“If you don’t tell and I don’t tell, how would Sol ever know?” Maud gripped the hilt, and at that touch, a faint sense of familiarity welled up within him. Unlike the security he felt holding a gun, this was a subtle sense of fulfillment, hard to put into words. The simple act of gripping the hilt made him want to draw the blade.

Sadly, there were no enemies before him, nor any training posts in the shop. His gaze drifted unconsciously to Bailey.

Noticing Maud’s glance, Bailey—his upper body tightly bound with chains—trembled, immediately wriggling behind the counter to hide behind Sunny.

Seeing this, Maud walked over with feigned concern. “Bailey, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“N-no.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Maud turned to Sunny. “How much for this sword?” It struck him that there was no need to buy a blade elsewhere when there were so many right here.

“Two million six hundred thousand.”

Maud silently returned the sword to its place. Not wanting to add to Sunny’s workload, he didn’t pick up another—just pointed.

“How about this one?”

“One million seven hundred thousand.”

“And this?”

“Two hundred twenty thousand.”

“What’s the cheapest one?”

“Ninety thousand.”

Maud felt the less-than-fifty-thousand in his pocket and sighed deeply. Looks like I’ll have to try the weapons shop in town after all. As for the second-hand goods on the third shelf, he wouldn’t even consider them.