Sabaody Archipelago, Pleasure Town.
For pirates accustomed to arson, murder, and plunder, Pleasure Town—saturated with wine, women, and coin—is the perfect place to vent their cruelty and stress.
These desperados who lick blood from their blades have always lived by the creed of drinking today while the drink is here.
After all, no one can say whether tomorrow will bring a hold full of gold or the cold bite of death.
Better to live in the moment; one carefree day at a time.
When pirates come to Pleasure Town to spend, they exchange the loot taken at sea for Berries.
Where there is demand, a market springs up.
Because of the red-light nature of Pleasure Town, Islands 1 through 29—clearly marked as lawless zones—have become the largest underground black market and slave market in the Sabaody Archipelago.
The slave market, in particular—the human auction house—is called the archipelago's pillar industry.
Here, any race can become merchandise: humans, merfolk, Fishmen, and rare species, all fitted with explosive collars.
The main customers of the slave market are the Celestial Dragons.
The underground black market covers every other illegal trade besides human trafficking—arms, Devil Fruits, artificial Devil Fruits, and more.
Beneath the sparkling bubbles of Sabaody Archipelago lies a complete industrial chain, nourished by the privileges of the Celestial Dragons, that blends human trafficking, black-market deals, and luxury entertainment.
Following the address the buyer provided, Seven came to the slave market alone.
As a middleman, Shakky only connects buyer and seller; she does not take part in the actual transaction.
If he had just transmigrated, Seven's nerves would have snapped at the sight—men and women of every race chained like livestock in cages, price tags hanging beside them.
The vacant stare of a woman, dried blood on a mermaid's tail fin, a man's bent spine… every detail reeked of a sickening rot.
"Damn this world."
Seventeen years in this pirate world, and Seven thought he was numb, yet passing the iron cages again he still cursed under his breath.
He knew better than anyone: you can't save them all.
Smash ten cages today, and tomorrow twenty new ones arrive.
As long as those fish-bowl pigs in Mary Geoise sit atop the world, slavery will never truly disappear.
Citizens of kingdoms that can't pay the Heavenly Tribute, nations not yet affiliated, men and women, young and old whose homes were razed by pirates—all end up as a single line in a catalog, chains clanking as they're shipped out.
Weakness is the original sin.
On these seas, kindness and rage without strength weigh no more than a sigh.
Having seen it all, Seven will do anything to become the strongest in the world; no one will dare raise their voice in front of him.
Inside a private booth of the slave auction house, Seven finally met the gold coin buyer—the Shipping King known as the Deep-Sea Current: Umit.
In the pirate world, apart from the pirates, Marine, and Revolutionary Army on the surface, there is an Underworld controlled by several giants.
The Shipping King Umit is one of them.
Umit controls shipping and logistics, the transport hub of the Underworld.
His fleet ferries every illicit cargo—arms, even people—connecting Sabaody's black markets with the demands of the world's nobles.
"You brought the goods?"
Two years of training in Sky Island had changed Seven's height so much that Umit did not recognize him.
Or perhaps compared with Roger, Vice-Captain Rayleigh, Jabba, or Bullet, Seven simply wasn't famous.
"The money?"
At those words Umit waved behind him; two burly men in black carried several boxes into the booth and opened them one by one.
The other dared to come alone—he must have something to rely on; Umit only wanted money, not trouble.
Besides, the moment the young man entered, his bearing marked him as no ordinary person.
Umit pointed to three of the boxes, each holding a spiral-patterned fruit.
"I only have three Devil Fruits left. On the left: the Zoan Dig-Dig Fruit, Mole Form."
"In the middle: the Paramecia Sube Sube no Mi."
"On the right: the Zoan Fly-Fly Fruit."
With that, Umit clamped a cigar between his teeth. "Customer, you don't look as though you're carrying ten tons of gold."
Through the intermediary, Umit had valued the ten tons of gold at 3.6 billion Berries.
A sum that large demanded caution.
Seven waved the smoke away. "Before we trade, let's settle on a price for the Devil Fruits."
Of the three, only the Paramecia Sube Sube no Mi was decent; the Zoan Mole and Fly were trash among trash.
At least the mole could dig—useful for construction or grave-robbing.
What use was the Fly-Fly Fruit? Eating dung?
"One billion!" Umit opened his mouth like a lion.
"Three hundred million!" Seven swung the dragon-slaying blade.
"Eight hundred million."
"Final offer: four hundred million."
Seven pointed at the dark-purple Fly-Fly Fruit. "Don't push me, or I'll shove it down your throat."
Umit gave an embarrassed laugh. "Four hundred million it is; no need to get angry."
"Next time I get a strong Devil Fruit, I'll contact you first."
Next time, I definitely can't show up in person.
This white-haired fellow doesn't look like a good person.
Umit knew full well the Fly-Fly Fruit was a con; any normal person would balk at eating it.
What good would it do?
Produce fertilizer?
"Brother, the rest of the boxes hold 3.3 billion Berries—want to count?"
"Keep the extra hundred million as my gift."
Hearing that, Seven's first thought was: I overpaid.
Among the three, only the Sube Sube no Mi had any real use—beautifying the skin, making it silky smooth.
Silky… no friction… tsk tsk.
Seven stowed the three Devil Fruits in his system space, then pulled out a few 10,000-Berry notes bearing the skull of Ukiyaki and glanced at them.
"I'll leave three hundred million as a deposit. Next time you try to fob garbage off on me, I'll put a hole in your gut and stuff that Fly-Fly Fruit inside."
"Absolutely, absolutely." Umit rubbed his hands.
"Brother, those gold coins…"
Seven tilted his head; where the floor had been empty moments before, several large boxes now appeared.
Umit rushed forward, opened them one by one, eyes sparkling as he ran his hands over the glittering coins.
"Brother, why not come work for me?"
"Room and board included, five insurances and one fund, free run of Pleasure Town—whatever woman you want, I'll find her for you."
Umit was salivating; the youth was clearly a space-type Devil Fruit user—the kind his company coveted most.
A natural-born smuggling prodigy!
The wealth the young man could generate would far outstrip any salary Umit could offer.
Yet judging by the casual three-hundred-million deposit, the fellow was obviously rich and supremely confident in his own strength.
He wasn't worried about Umit reneging at all.
In fact, Umit suspected the youth was hoping he would renege—because if he dared, the youth would kill him without hesitation.