Chapter 15

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Although it faltered a bit, the effect I wanted seemed to have been perfectly achieved. While you were coughing, the system had already delivered its verdict. Marco remained standing in place without moving, but he lowered his head to shield his eyes. The lazy expression he once wore had completely vanished, replaced by a refreshed countenance that looked rather displeased.

Though their faces hardly looked lively, you could clearly sense his anger.

Hmm... it didn’t seem like he was going to scold you further.

No points were deducted from the favorability rating either. It seemed that your earlier explanation was very successful.

“You need to undergo an investigation. Come with us!”

The three identical guards didn’t care about any of this—they were just programmed to follow their preset routines. After you finished making your choice, they resumed their original actions and launched an attack toward your position.

[System Notice: Marco’s current anger level has increased; his attack power is enhanced!]

What?

As you read the notification, Marco vanished from his spot. The next second, he suddenly appeared in front of the three guards. Without even using his Phoenix skill, he easily sent them flying with basic attacks.

[System Notice: Players have teamed up to defeat three guards! Gained 750 experience points.]

But this wasn’t the end. Marco then moved at lightning speed toward the fruit vendor and proceeded to deliver a heavy beating to his face.

“Ah!”

The vendor screamed in terror, dropping the wooden stick he was holding. He covered his face, crying pitifully and begging for mercy.

“Stop! Stop!”

Marco wouldn’t soften because of those words. He sneered and tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Before you throw a punch, you better know your own strength.”

“If I find out you bully my sister again, oi, you know what happens when you mess with the Whitebeard Pirates, right?”

“White—Whitebeard Pirates!? So you are...”

The fruit vendor broke out in a cold sweat, looking as if he wished they had said this earlier. He groaned in misery as things began to fall noisily from his pockets.

“Alright... alright... I won’t dare again!”

[System Notice: Players teamed up to defeat the fruit vendor! Gained 15 experience points, 10 perfect apples (each restores 1 HP), 1,500 berries, the vendor’s leopard-print underwear ×1.]

...So he had perfect apples? He must have deliberately picked them out from a pile of rotten ones—truly a heartless scoundrel!

[System: Player has gained insight on their own, Intelligence +1.]

Thank you.

Because the system automatically adds opponents to the battle team after 10 seconds, you received the experience points Marco earned by defeating them without spending a drop of health or mana, and without worrying about taking any damage yourself.

To be honest, this feeling of being an AFK player—

Is quite satisfying.

Marco showed no intention of stepping forward to claim the rewards, so you couldn’t help but walk over and bend down to pick up the items that had fallen from the vendor’s pockets.

Item: Vendor’s Leopard-Print Underwear
Attributes: Attack +1, Defense -10, Charm +5 (This is the fruit vendor’s favorite underwear; he carries it with him every day.)

It’s even an equippable item that boosts stats??

But carrying underwear around sounds a bit perverse. Why on earth does such an ugly leopard print add 5 charm points?

Don’t worry, you won’t be wearing it.

You prefer equipment that boosts defense rather than charm. Ideally, you want to turn your body into an impenetrable fortress with 9999 defense, so you won’t fear any harm—possibly even blades and spears wouldn’t be able to scratch you.

On the ground lay the wooden stick the vendor had been holding earlier. You picked it up along with the underwear.

Item: Ordinary Wooden Stick
Attributes: Attack +4, Defense -3, Agility +1.

...What a lousy piece of equipment. This is really all a level 5 can offer.

You threw the stick into your bag with some disdain, watching as the fruit vendor, having lost all his belongings, slinked back to his stall. The swelling on his face, caused by the beating, mysteriously vanished without warning.

However, he didn’t dare look at you anymore, and no dialogue box appeared above him. Unlike before, you couldn’t choose “I want to buy something” from him.

You approached him curiously and poked his body repeatedly.

[System Notice: The fruit vendor is terrified of you; you cannot talk to him.]

Alright then.

You gave up poking him, took a perfect apple you had picked up from the vendor, bit into it a few times, and swallowed it. After all, your coughing earlier had cost you 1 HP.

A perfect apple that restores 1 HP was just enough to recover it.

“Sorry about what happened earlier, little sister.”

The three guards had vanished as well—probably chased away by Marco. The blond boy came back to your side, squatted down, and gently ruffled your hair. “Don’t take that person to heart.”

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“Just remember this: me and Dad will always be your strongest backing. If you can’t even protect your own family, what kind of pirate are we?”

“So—”

“No matter what difficulties you face, just use me and Dad’s name as your shield.”

“I can guarantee that Dad feels the same way.”

“Hmm...”

You lifted your gaze to meet the blond boy’s eyes. Rarely did you whine or complain; instead, you simply looked away and nodded.

The fruit vendor’s little side story had ended. The market street returned to its usual calm, with the occasional NPC passing by and disappearing into a nearby alley, only to reappear moments later nearby. It was lively yet quiet.

Marco was headed to the bookstore next. You finally parted ways with him and, after crossing two streets, found the goldsmith you had been eagerly seeking.

The goldsmith’s shop in this small town was more modest than expected—just an ordinary brick building with a wooden sign above the door inscribed in English:

CASHING.

You stepped inside through the open wooden door, entering a hall that could only be described as silent.

“Welcome.”

The shopkeeper behind the counter greeted you but then ignored you. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and was focused on tallying his ledger, with a speech bubble showing just “[...]” floating above him.

Choose 1: Commission Forging...
Choose 2: Want to Sell Gold.
Choose 3: About This Goldsmith.
Choose 4: Leave.

“Want to sell gold.”

You went straight to the point and spoke with the shopkeeper.

Just as Rayleigh had said, the gold necklace obtained from the underwater crab demon could be sold for 150,000 berries each. You took out all five necklaces from your bag, netting a total of 750,000 berries.

Reaching 100 million berries was just around the corner!

Suddenly a wealthy woman, combined with the 5,500 berries earned earlier from quests and such, you now had a total of 755,500 berries, enough to strut through the market with confidence.

Should you visit the general store to sell the junk in your bag...?

You hadn’t forgotten that you had attacked the general store owner yesterday. You wondered if that would trigger a side story like with the fruit vendor. Of course, even if it did, you wouldn’t be afraid.

Your bag holding 99 slots was already 54 slots full, so cleaning it out might be a good idea. As you turned to leave the goldsmith, you suddenly noticed a suspicious figure lurking at the open doorway.

Who was that?

A person wearing a red knit hat, struggling to carry a bulging small sack on their shoulder, tiptoeing and peeking into the goldsmith’s shop.

A thief attempting to rob the place?

The boy looked about your age and was hiding behind the door, only half his head visible.

You noticed him only because of his extraordinarily unique nose—

Round and bulbous, bright red like the clown at McDonald’s.

Quite distinctive.

You thought nothing more of it.

It’s no big deal—your “cheap dad” with his crescent-shaped white beard, your “cheap older brother” with his grasshopper-like hair... and Roger’s famously dark and long pubic hair. A red clown nose was hardly surprising anymore.

Above the red-nosed boy’s head floated a yellow name tag: Buggy.

A rather ordinary name.

But compared to generic titles like “Island Doctor,” “Fruit Vendor,” or “Goldsmith,” it was better—at least it wasn’t a hasty, vague occupational label. There was probably a story behind him.

You approached Buggy, who immediately reacted upon seeing you. He backed away, clutching the sack protectively, eyes wary.

“What’re you looking at?”

Choose 1: What’s it to you!?
Choose 2: Your hat is so red...
Choose 3: Your nose is so red...
Choose 4: Are you here to rob the goldsmith? I’ll tell the others.
Choose 5: Leave.

You could back out, meaning all options were selectable.

With nothing urgent, and having just received the berries from the necklace sale, you decided to ask all the options in order.

“What’s it to you!?”

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“You...!”

Buggy choked on his words, probably not wanting to cause trouble. He glared fiercely, then averted his eyes in displeasure, continuing to sneak glances around. “Don’t meddle in my business!”

[System: Buggy’s favorability -1.]

Tsk.

This brat has quite a temper.

You recited the second option casually: “So red...”

As soon as you began, Buggy’s expression exploded at your first words. He jerked his head sharply toward you, furious.

“Ah!?”

“You bastard, what did you just say!?”

“Are you saying my nose is red, big, and round, and that it looks stupid and funny!?”

He stomped his foot and shouted in rage: “Don’t think I didn’t hear you! How dare you call my round nose that!!”

????

No, you didn’t say that.

To be precise, you didn’t even get to say it... because the nose-related option was third.

Realizing the nose was his trigger, and that picking that option would definitely decrease favorability, you had no desire to dance on his landmines. You quickly changed your words.

“I didn’t say that.”

“I meant your hat—the red one—it looks nice.”

“...What?”

Buggy paused, instinctively touching his crooked knit hat, his expression softening with pride. “Well, of course.”

“This is—”

Mid-sentence, he suddenly recalled something and stopped talking, eyeing you suspiciously.

“As for your nose...”

You glanced sideways at the offending feature. Buggy’s face instantly changed again. He glared fiercely, veins popping on his forehead, and asked with a scowl:

“You really think my nose looks stupid and funny, don’t you!?”

“Big and red, like it’s been dyed! Right?!”

“I didn’t think that.”

You wanted to tease him about how much he cared about his nose. Take it easy—you’re named “Malo,” and you care about that too... well, actually, you care quite a lot.

Even now, you wished you could travel back to the moment you picked your name, slap your past self twice, and quickly gather 100 million berries to change such a foolish name.

Having some understanding of this guy’s feelings, you ignored Buggy’s attitude and instead gave him a sincere smile.

“Your nose is not funny at all.”

“It’s not as bad as you say.”

“I think it’s cute, and handsome.”

“............”

The air strangely fell silent for a few seconds.

During this eerie pause, a new dialogue box appeared above the red-nosed boy.

Choose 1: Continue complimenting.
Choose 2: Touch his nose.
Choose 3: Sorry, I take back what I said. Your nose is really idiotic.
Choose 4: Leave.

Uh-oh.

You really want to touch it.

You decisively chose the second option and continued: “I swear, it’s really cute! I like it.”

“Please, can I touch it?”

“.............”

The air remained just as still.

However, this stillness seemed only an illusion. The blue-haired boy wearing the knit hat loosened his clenched fists, and the aura around him visibly faded.

He stiffly took a few steps back, his skin gradually coloring. His cheeks flushed bright red, as if he had been struck dumb, his mind blank.