I collect everything in the One Piece world.

"But at least now I can rest in peace. I hope I never come to this godforsaken place again in my next life."

After doing all this, the frustration in Mosen's heart did not dissipate; instead, it became even heavier.

The pleasant feeling I had earlier when I found the unusual stone slabs and odds and ends in the antique shop had vanished, replaced by a cold sense of reality and powerlessness.

He frowned as he looked at the colorful bubbles floating or bursting in mid-air, wandering aimlessly among the intricate streets and mangrove roots of Chambord.

His mind was a jumbled mess, one moment showing the ugly faces of the Celestial Dragons, the next Rayleigh's meaningful advice, and then the empty, desperate eyes of the slaves.

Before the adventure of his dreams even began, he had already realized the distortion and deformity of this world. What he saw in anime and what he saw with his own eyes were two completely different things.

And so, as his thoughts wandered, Mosen aimlessly walked into a relatively quiet area with somewhat dilapidated buildings.

This area appears to be a mix of residential areas and small workshops, with relatively few pedestrians.

However, just as he passed the entrance of a small alleyway piled with some miscellaneous items...

Snapped!Snapped!

The crisp, familiar sound of a whip cracking, mixed with suppressed, childish groans of pain, came from the depths of the alley without warning.

The familiar voice, like a needle, instantly jolted Mosen awake from his thoughts.

It's the whip again...

How many more corners like this are there in the Sabaody Archipelago, where the same atrocities are being repeated?

Chapter 9, Human Trafficking Everywhere

Snapped!

In the alley, the rough leather whip tore through the air, whistling as it lashed the girl's thin back.

The thin, coarse cloth garment ripped open with a snap, revealing a fresh bloodstain that quickly stained the exposed flesh dark red with the seeping blood.

The girl in the corner shuddered and let out a painful groan, curling up like a shrimp on the cold, damp ground.

Her dirty little face was buried in her arms, her shoulders trembling violently, and only intermittent, sobbing murmurs squeezed out from between her teeth:

"I...I'm not a slave...I want to go home...Mom..."

"Go home? Bah!" The one wielding the whip was a bald man with a fleshy face and a short, thick neck.

He spat, the whip twirled in the air, and then lashed down hard again.

"You little slut! You still want to go home? You almost killed me!"

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and he lashed the whip even more fiercely.

A few days ago, this seemingly timid girl somehow managed to pry open the lock on the cage containing the "goods," and not only did she escape, but she also released several others!

Although he led his men in an urgent pursuit and captured most of them, two or three slipped away like eels and could not be found again.

"I already negotiated the price for this batch of goods with the auction house owner and a few regular customers! Now that someone's missing, I not only have to put on a smiling face, but I also have to pay them! Do you know how much that will cost? Huh?!"

The man roared, veins bulging on his forehead: "It's all your fault, you little bastard!"

The girl was beaten until she was barely conscious; the burning pain in her back almost made her faint, but the instinct for survival and the faint hope in her heart sustained her, allowing her to weakly but stubbornly repeat, "I'm not... a slave... let me go..."

"Let you go?" The man grinned maliciously as he stopped whipping her, grabbed the girl's chin with his large hand, and looked at her face, which was covered in tears and blood.

“I don’t care if you were a rich girl or a commoner before, once you fall into my hands, you’re ‘commodity’! Commodity with a price tag! Understand?!”

"You can only blame your bad luck for being captured and sold here! Remember to be more discerning in your next life!"

After saying that, as if he wanted to vent all his losses and anger on this "culprit", he raised the whip high again!

at this time

bass!

A sharp, cold light suddenly flashed, piercing through the shadows at the alley entrance!

scoff!

The sturdy leather whip snapped in two, the front half falling limply to the ground with a dull thud.

The bald man felt a sudden lightness in his hand, and before he could react to what was happening, a cold and chilling aura was pressed against the skin of his neck.

A sharp blade pressed a thin line of blood onto his neck, and the indescribable stinging pain made the hairs on his body stand on end instantly.

He moved his eyes somewhat stiffly, and then saw that a black-haired youth was already standing opposite him.

The young man's eyes were icy cold, and the murderous intent surging within them was almost tangible.

So this young man just cut his whip with a knife, and now he has the knife at his vitals, and he didn't even see how the other man got there!

"Who...who are you?!" The bald man's voice was hoarse as he tried to remain calm, but his slightly trembling legs betrayed his fear.

“I’m warning you, this is Chambord! I have the ‘Big Hand’ funeral home behind me! If you dare touch me, they will absolutely not let you get away with it…”

"Shut up." Mosen's voice wasn't loud, but it forcefully interrupted the guy's bluster.

He applied slight pressure to his wrist, and the blade sank into his skin a fraction more, causing warm beads of blood to immediately roll down the blade.

"Uh!" The man was so frightened that all his threatening words got stuck in his throat.

He could sense that the other person was truly capable of killing! That chilling killing intent was undeniable!

"No, no! Mercy! Let's talk this out! Money! I'll give you the money! This woman is yours too! Please, have mercy!"

Mosen ignored his pleas for mercy and instead turned his head slightly to look at the girl curled up on the ground.

The girl seemed stunned by the sudden turn of events, her eyes wide with confusion, tears mixed with grime hanging on her face.

With a barely perceptible flick of his free left hand, Mo Sen instantly consumed two stickers from his collection: one for "Clean Drinking Water" and the other for "Soft White Bread."

With a flash of light, a wooden cup filled with clear water and a piece of white bread still smelling of wheat appeared in his hands.

"Eat up, it'll help you regain some strength," Mosen said softly, his voice much gentler than when he spoke to the bald man.

The girl stared blankly at the water and bread in her hand, then looked up at the older brother who seemed to have fallen from the sky. For a moment, she forgot to react, and only her stomach let out a soft rumble at an inopportune time.

She hesitated for a moment, then opened her mouth and carefully took a small bite, before eagerly picking up the water glass and taking a big gulp.

The sweet water and the aroma of wheat in the bread almost brought her to tears again; at that moment, she felt like a real person once more.

Mosen turned back to the bald man, the blade pressed against his neck, and growled, "Kneel down!"

Without the slightest hesitation, the bald man knelt down with a thud, the sound of his knees hitting the stone slab clearly audible.

Without even needing Mosen's further instructions, he began kowtowing repeatedly in the direction of the girl, begging for mercy incoherently.

"I was wrong! I'm not human! I was blind! Please, have mercy on me and spare my life!"

The girl, who was taking small bites of bread, was startled by the sudden kowtow and begging for mercy. She forgot to chew the bread in her mouth and just stared blankly at the slave trader who had been so fierce just moments before, now kowtowing on the ground like a mangy dog.

Mosen remained unmoved by the scene, his voice still icy: "Tell me, what kind of business do you do in Chambord? How many shops like yours are there? In which areas are they located? Who is controlling this chain behind the scenes? Tell me everything you know."

Upon hearing this, the bald man's eyes darted around, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He couldn't figure out what this ruthless man was up to.

Is this guy a Navy spy? Or a fellow naval officer trying to double-cross someone? Or maybe some hotheaded righteous fool who suddenly went crazy?

As he thought quickly, he stammered, "I... I'm just a nobody... I have a small warehouse over at GR 29... I usually collect some 'loose goods'."

"It mainly supplies...several small shops near Happy Wharf, and...the owner of Bubble Tavern also frequents the place..."

"We small fry have no access to the big auction houses..."

He spoke quickly, but his eyes darted around, and he spoke of places and names in a somewhat ambiguous manner, trying to mislead the listener.

Just then, the girl who had been silently eating her bread suddenly raised her head. Her voice was still weak, but very clear and firm:

He's lying!

Chapter 10, You're Not Human To Me

The bald man's voice stopped abruptly, and his face turned deathly pale.

The girl stared at the bald man, her voice tinged with suppressed resentment: "His 'shop' isn't at 29GR! It's in an abandoned wine cellar under the mangrove roots at 27GR, which is closer to the lawless zone! Half of the entrance is covered by vines!"

"Also, the owner of the Bubbling Tavern he mentioned earlier doesn't run that kind of business at all! It's a legitimate tavern!"

Having gone through several transfers and imprisonments, she remembered the details of her surroundings exceptionally clearly, especially information that could become clues for escape.

"You...you little bitch, what nonsense are you spouting!" The bald man was both shocked and furious. He hadn't expected this seemingly half-dead girl to have such a good memory and dare to expose him to his face!

Mosen's gaze turned even colder, and he gave the bald man no further chance to argue.

With a flash of light!

"Ah!!!" A shrill scream echoed through the alley.

The bald man's two fingers on his right hand were severed at the base, and blood gushed out. He trembled as he covered the severed fingers, his whole body convulsing in pain, his face as pale as paper.

Mosen flicked the blood off the blade, his voice deep and resonant, each word striking the man's heart: "Next time, it won't be a finger that gets severed."

His gaze swept across the filthy alley, as if he could see through the darkness of the entire Sabaody Archipelago: "Anyway, there are plenty of maggots like you on this island. Killing you will naturally find another one willing to speak."

Mosen's murderous intent and contempt completely shattered the bald man's last defenses. He collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face, no longer daring to hide anything or harbor any illusions. He began to incoherently confess everything he knew.

The girl hugged her knees, huddled in a corner, eating small bites of bread while watching the older brother with icy eyes who had saved her.

The man spoke haltingly, his voice trembling with sobs and fear.

As he listened to the story, Mo Sen began to picture a vast and ugly scene in his mind: a deeply entrenched black market industry chain.

From oceans, villages, and even towns around the world, professional slave-hunting ships or teams used methods such as abduction, robbery, war captivity, and even deception to turn all sorts of people into "goods."

These "goods" were transported by long sea to the Sabaody Archipelago, a huge "transit point" and "dumping ground" for stolen goods.

Low-level traffickers like the bald man are merely distributors at the end of the chain.

They received "loose cargo" from larger "wholesalers" or slave ships, subjecting it to simple "processing," including torture to break the will to resist and basic etiquette or skills training to increase its value.

Then they either supplied slaves to the island’s shady brothels, gladiatorial arenas, and private collectors, or tried to stuff the better-quality “goods” into the outer channels of auction houses in hopes of getting a high price.

As for the Celestial Dragons... they are usually "VIP clients" at the top of this industry chain.

They either personally or by sending their subordinates to "hunt" at sea, or they directly bid for the rarest, most expensive, and best-quality "top-tier goods" from human auction houses.

Only a minor character like the bald man would have a chance to handle goods that "may be of Celestial Dragons' taste" if he were extremely lucky.

However, this also means higher risks, because if there is a problem with the "goods" and he angers the Celestial Dragons, he won't even know how he died.