Chapter 29: Bar, Girl!

Soon, they arrived at the small town. It was truly tiny, appearing to house only a few hundred residents. Camus observed carefully and noticed that the people here showed no surprise at their arrival—perhaps they had grown used to such sights.

Looking out from the edge of town, Camus frowned. Several kilometers away, stationed not far from the town, was a Marine outpost. Moored nearby were numerous warships—dozens, in fact—most of them large-class vessels. While not as massive as those deployed for the Buster Call, each was at least five times the size of the Grey Bear. It seemed clear that the purpose of this Marine division was to block pirates from entering the New World. Of course, Camus himself had no fear of them, but without him, his ship would likely find it difficult to press forward.

After disembarking, Camus glanced around and found there wasn’t a single pirate in sight. Yet the townsfolk showed no fear of pirates; this was probably due to the presence of the Marine outpost. There were likely Marines embedded within the town itself.

He exchanged a few words with Jolya, checked over the pirate ship, then rested for the night, setting out for the New World early the next morning.

Strolling through the town, Camus soon learned its name—“The Town of Beginnings.” Presumably, it was so named because it marked the first stop in the New World. Unlike Loguetown, known as “The Place Where It Begins and Ends,” this was the gateway into a new era. Camus quickly noticed that all the inhabitants lived on the Red Line; its nearness to the entrance of the New World made it a hub for commerce, even if the population was small.

Before long, Camus found the only bar in town. Inside, there were just a few customers, and to his surprise, the bartender was a girl of sixteen or seventeen. When she saw Camus enter, a faint blush colored her cheeks. Camus found it curious—how was it that such a young girl tended bar here? Wasn’t she afraid that some pirate might get ideas?

He took a seat at the round stool by the bar. The two other patrons glanced at him before quickly looking away. Though they tried to remain calm, Camus noticed their bodies tremble slightly. He eyed them sidelong; they looked like soldiers—likely Marines. That made sense. While most pirates didn’t linger long in this first town upon entering the New World, nearly every crew stopped by to take a look. It was only natural for the Marines to have intelligence operatives stationed in the bar, since pirates were known for their love of drink.

There was no need to pay them any mind. The Navy would certainly be aware of his arrival in the New World. If they tried to apprehend him, it would only mean their deaths.

Sitting at the bar, Camus studied the young woman. She had a head of blue hair and wasn’t short; she bore a resemblance to Vivi of Alabasta.

The girl grew a little irritated under Camus’s gaze and called out, “What are you looking at? Haven’t you ever seen a beautiful woman? Just say what you want to drink!” Camus broke into a sweat. He’d assumed she’d be quiet and gentle; he hadn’t expected someone so fiery.

On reflection, Camus realized his mistake. Where was he now? The New World. Even if this was merely the first stop, it was still pirate territory. The fact that she’d even blushed when he entered was already remarkable.

“Uh, sorry. I’ll have a bottle of whiskey, please. By the way, miss, you’re very pretty,” Camus said, tacking on a compliment at the end.

The girl snorted, turned, and set a bottle of whiskey in front of him. With an air of disdain, she said, “Hey, kid, the New World is a dangerous place. Aren’t you afraid of dying here, being so young and handsome? What a waste.”

Camus was at a loss for words—this woman was certainly something.

“Heh, you needn’t worry about me, miss. I can take care of myself. By the way, do you have any bounty posters? Preferably those for the more famous pirates of the New World,” Camus replied, taking a sip and smiling, unconcerned by her words.

The girl was a little surprised by his response but nonetheless produced a stack of Marine bounty posters from under the counter—those of the most notorious pirates.

Camus flipped through them: Whitebeard’s twelve billion Berries, Red-Haired’s six billion, Moria’s two hundred eighty million, Kaido’s five billion. Even “Hawk Eyes” Dracule Mihawk was listed at six billion. “Oh! I’m on here as well,” Camus said in surprise, finding his own bounty poster, which clearly marked his bounty at eight hundred million. The girl glanced over in curiosity, eager to see how much this handsome young man was worth.

“Hey, how much are you wanted for?” she asked, unable to see the number from her angle.

Camus flashed her a mischievous smile and handed over the poster. “See for yourself. Just don’t be too surprised.”

She rolled her eyes. “How much could it be? You look so frail—just because you carry a nice-looking sword doesn’t mean you’re strong!” With that, she took the poster.

At first glance, she was transfixed. The photo of Camus on the bounty poster was quite striking: long purple hair draped over his shoulders, the Emperor’s Sword resting casually against him, and eyes filled with utter contempt—an undeniable air of handsomeness.

Then, as she looked further down, her mouth fell open in shock. “E-eight hundred million?!”

The two Marine spies at the side had already recognized the infamous pirate “Emperor of the Purple,” Elros D. Camus, the moment he entered and had been terrified ever since. When they heard the number “eight hundred million,” they shuddered visibly. That was an enormous sum. Whitebeard’s twelve billion was in a league of its own, but he wasn’t here. This “Emperor of the Purple” was only a few meters away. If he decided they displeased him, what then?

The girl stared at Camus in disbelief. Was this handsome and friendly young man really a pirate worth eight hundred million? The Marines surely wouldn’t make such a mistake. That meant he must be a monster, a butcher who killed without mercy. Only the most powerful and evil pirates could command such bounties.

Seeing her pale face, Camus gave a helpless, bitter smile. Was it really so shocking? Eight hundred million didn’t seem that high to him.

“Hey, miss, am I really that frightening? What do you think of the photo on my poster—isn’t it rather handsome?” he asked with a gentle smile, trying to ease her anxiety.

Lisa gazed at the young man before her in astonishment. Eight hundred million! Such a figure was staggering. If the Marines valued him so highly at his age, there must be a reason.

She patted her chest to steady herself, glared at Camus, and asked curiously, “Why is your bounty so high? Are you really that strong?”

“Well, how shall I put it? Not even the three Marine Admirals are my match. What do you think—am I strong?” Camus replied, winking with a smile.

“Really? You’re that powerful?” Lisa was skeptical. The three Admirals were the Navy’s mightiest, and if none could best him, just how formidable was he?

Camus didn’t respond further, just nodded and continued drinking.

Though Lisa’s curiosity was piqued, seeing Camus merely nod, she asked no more and quietly polished bottles, casting occasional glances at the two men sitting nearby.

Camus glanced outside; it was already evening. He laid a ten-thousand Berry note on the counter. “Your whiskey is excellent. Next time I pass through, I’ll be sure to stop by again.” With that, he turned and left.

Watching Camus’ departure, Lisa’s eyes were filled with complex emotions. Though she had been stunned to learn of his eight hundred million bounty, her hatred of pirates remained—her parents had both been slain by pirates. She had forced herself to play along, knowing that any hint of hostility would be quickly noticed. Yet Camus’ demeanor surprised her. This seemingly ordinary youth was nothing like the bloodthirsty monsters she’d imagined. Could it be that not all pirates were evil?

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