Somewhere in the New World.
"Ugh…"
Amidst the lively clamor of a bustling tavern, a sudden, discordant retching sound rang out.
The surrounding patrons turned to look at the man hunched over a table, vomiting uncontrollably. Some cursed, while others laughed and jeered.
"Damn it! If it weren't for this damn newspaper, I wouldn't be puking my guts out."
The man cursed under his breath as he grabbed the newspaper and wiped the corner of his mouth roughly.
Normally, he could suppress the nausea when the alcohol hit too hard.
But today, after seeing nearly everyone in the tavern holding a copy of the same newspaper, he got curious and decided to get one for himself—only to nearly throw up his entire meal from sheer disgust.
"Old Pointy Nose, if you can't hold your liquor, don't blame the newspaper. That's like when your 'equipment' failed a few days ago, and you blamed the poor girl for not being good enough."
At a nearby table, a slim woman with heavy makeup and a pair of blades strapped to her waist scoffed in disdain. She, too, held a copy of the latest headline featuring Maude's appointment as a Warlord of the Sea.
As soon as her words left her mouth, the entire tavern erupted into laughter.
Yet, despite being the target of ridicule, Old Pointy Nose remained unfazed, as if he had long since grown accustomed to such jealousy-fueled mockery.
Wiping his unkempt face with his sleeve, he then jabbed a finger at the stained newspaper, his expression twisted with irritation.
"Just look at this garbage! The whole article is nothing but endless praise, and they don't even bother switching up the adjectives! How the hell does something so blatantly overhyped even get published? Which paper is this? It should just go out of business already!"
"This is the World Economy News Paper—the industry leader. If any newspaper is going under, it sure as hell won't be this one."
Someone casually retorted, nearly making Old Pointy Nose choke on his own spit.
The heavily made-up woman waved the newspaper in her hand and sneered, "What do you mean, 'overhyped'? Sounds like someone's just jealous of little Maudie."
"L-Little Maudie…?"
Old Pointy Nose looked at the notorious woman in horror.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she said in an icy tone, "What? Got a problem with that?"
"..."
Instantly, Old Pointy Nose clamped his mouth shut.
This woman was far superior to him in both strength and bounty.
If he dared to challenge her, he'd be put in his place without question.
Seeing him back down, the woman let out a disdainful snort and ignored him, shifting her focus back to the newspaper in her hands.
Her exquisitely made-up face—though still striking even without the cosmetics—flushed slightly as her glistening eyes seemed to sink into the photo of Maude printed in the article.
"Come to the New World soon, little Maudie…"
She pressed a passionate kiss onto the newspaper, leaving a bright red lipstick mark on Maude's printed face.
As someone who worshiped raw strength above all else, she was utterly enamored by Maude's meteoric rise—his path of lightning and fire. She eagerly anticipated what kind of change he would bring to this stagnant New World once he crossed the Red Line and emerged from Fish-Man Island.
The other patrons, familiar with her eccentricity, weren't the least bit surprised. Even the earlier commotion caused by Old Pointy Nose's outburst had long since been forgotten as the conversation shifted back to Maude.
"So, he's planning to enter the New World as a Warlord, huh? Hmph. This isn't Paradise. Even with the title of Warlord, he better not think he can count on the Marines for protection."
"He's strong, sure—but there are plenty here who are even stronger."
"He's been slaughtering or chasing off his fellow Supernovas left and right. I don't think forming alliances is even on his radar."
"Tehahaha! The New World is ruled by monsters. You either submit to them or rely on alliances to secure some semblance of stability—otherwise, you'll get devoured the moment you arrive. If he doesn't understand that…"
"Idiot, you still think Bacardi Maude is just some ordinary rookie?"
"Heh. Remember last year's so-called 'super rookie'? Fire Fist Ace? Even he had to bow his head and swear allegiance to Whitebeard in the end."
"Submitting to a stronger force isn't shameful. And Maude is making even bigger waves than Ace did last year."
"Haha, just wait and see."
"I'm actually curious to see what kind of chaos he'll stir up… Though, something like that probably isn't possible."
"I doubt this so-called 'balance' will last forever. If not us, then someone else will break it. And when that happens…"
"..."
A brief silence fell over the tavern.
"Enough dreaming. Drink up!"
"Hahaha!"
"Yeah, that kind of thing isn't likely to happen."
"But… if it's Bacardi Maude, I can't help but wonder."
"One thing's for sure—he's the most ruthless newcomer I've ever seen."
"Absolutely. In less than a year, he's killed more rivals than I can count. If not for the fact that he sunk several Marine battleships before becoming a Warlord, I'd have thought he was working for them!"
"A guy this brutal… Hurry up and come to the New World already! Hahaha!"
The tavern's patrons were all pirates who had managed to carve out a foothold in the New World.
While most didn't believe Maude's arrival would significantly impact their world, they couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation.
But what they didn't know was that, despite their assumptions, Maude had no intention of entering the New World anytime soon.
...
Baltigo, the Island of White Soil.
The stronghold of the Revolutionary Army.
The barren white land was battered by fierce winds, carrying sand and dust that lashed against the windows of the buildings, producing an incessant, piercing howl.
Inside one of the rooms, the members of the Revolutionary Army paid no mind to the noise outside.
"This is the Clear-Clear Fruit, isn't it?"
On a wooden table sat a peculiar, patterned fruit.
The one who identified it was a bearded man wearing a canvas hat. He held an Encyclopedia of Devil Fruits in his hands, and the image on the open page was nearly identical to the fruit before them.
Around the table sat Sabo, Koala, and several others.
They silently observed the fruit Maude had sent them.
For operatives who frequently worked in the shadows, a fruit that granted the ability to erase one's presence was invaluable.
This Clear-Clear Fruit was Maude's gift to Sunny—a promise he had made to her long ago.
Originally, he had intended to find her an Ancient Zoan-type Devil Fruit. But given her current role as an intelligence officer in the Revolutionary Army, the Clear-Clear Fruit was far more suited to her needs.
"Hey, Gill, that encyclopedia belongs to Maude. Don't squeeze it so hard—what if you damage it?"
Koala noticed Gill unconsciously gripping the book too tightly and quickly reminded him.
"Ah, sorry. Got too excited."
Gill immediately relaxed his grip, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.
For someone in his line of work, the allure of the Clear-Clear Fruit was undeniable.
"The Clear-Clear Fruit, huh?"
Sabo glanced at Sunny, surprised by her lack of enthusiasm.
"Sunny, you don't seem all that interested in it."
"It's not that."
Sunny shook her head calmly. "It's a good fruit… but I don't really need it."
"Huh?"
Everyone exchanged puzzled looks.
For an intelligence operative, this fruit should have been the perfect choice.
Seeing their exaggerated reactions, Sunny chuckled softly.
"Sabo, you take this Devil Fruit."
"!!!"
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