Antonio followed Brook into the seemingly ordinary shop. However, under Brook's Life Scan, he could sense numerous life signatures inside—the place was heavily guarded.
"Captain Brook, the people here seem really dangerous..."
Antonio gulped, speaking cautiously to his captain.
"This is a lawless zone. You'll find all sorts here—pirates, slavers, bounty hunters. Stay behind me and be careful."
Brook warned him, worried that this rookie would get himself kidnapped and sold off.
"What can I do for you, sir?"
An old man behind the counter addressed Brook. On the surface, this shop sold liquor and cigarettes, but the real business was hidden inside—it was a black-market dealer for Den Den Mushi.
"I need a large batch of Den Den Mushi."
Brook picked up a bottle of liquor. Frost rapidly formed over it, turning it into solid ice—an unmistakable warning to the old man that he wasn't someone to be trifled with.
The shopkeeper immediately realized that Brook was a Devil Fruit user. Without hesitation, he led them to a backroom where the real transactions took place.
"Honored guest, which type of Den Den Mushi are you looking for?"
A beautiful saleswoman took over, replacing the old man. She greeted Brook with a warm, professional smile.
Brook glanced at the display case, where Den Den Mushi of various shapes, sizes, and colors were lined up. For a moment, he wasn't sure which to pick.
"Sir, this is a standard Communication Den Den Mushi. As long as you know the receiver's number, you can make calls across islands—100,000 Belly each.
This one is a Paired Den Den Mushi. It can only communicate with its paired counterpart, but it has an exceptionally strong signal. Even across vast distances—from the Four Seas to the Grand Line or the New World—it will stay connected. 500,000 Belly per pair.
We also have Broadcasting Den Den Mushi, Surveillance Den Den Mushi, Camera Den Den Mushi, and Fax Den Den Mushi... The cheapest option is the Infant Den Den Mushi. Its signal is weaker and only works for local island communication, priced at 10,000 Belly each."
The saleswoman, noticing Brook's hesitation, helpfully explained the different types and their functions.
Of course, highly classified Den Den Mushi—like the gold one used for a Buster Call, the silver one, the black wiretapping model, and the white anti-wiretap model—weren't available here. Nor were the large Public Den Den Mushi, Visual Den Den Mushi, or the mobile Projection Den Den Mushi.
Brook glanced at the money in his case—over 20 million Belly. He was ready to make a big purchase.
"Give me twenty Communication Den Den Mushi, twenty Infant Den Den Mushi, and ten pairs of Paired Den Den Mushi. For the rest, five of each."
"Understood, sir! We'll prepare your order right away."
The saleswoman was thrilled—this was a multimillion-Belly deal, and she'd get a nice commission.
Meanwhile, other pirate customers had started eyeing Brook. However, he remained completely unfazed. He could sense their life signatures—none of them were even close to his level.
Before long, the staff had packed everything into a large, transparent storage crate with multiple ventilation holes. Each layer held about twenty Den Den Mushi, filling up five layers. Some of the creatures were still nibbling on leaves.
Brook covered the crate with a cloth, picked it up, and walked toward the news agency. The moment they stepped out the door, he could sense several figures discreetly tailing them.
"Captain, a lot of people are following us... And there are plenty of little snails talking to other snails far away."
Antonio warily scanned their surroundings, whispering his concern to Brook.
"You can hear that too? Are you some kind of eavesdropping Den Den Mushi? See if you can catch anything about the Toxic Smoke Pirates."
Antonio's Devil Fruit seemed to grant him the abilities of various communication snails, but it didn't enhance his physical strength in the slightest. Even so, Brook felt this Devil Fruit was on par with a Mythical Zoan—perhaps it really was one.
"I got something, Captain Brook! I overheard a conversation between some kind of intelligence group—Toxic Smoke Pirates, area No. 21, something about a bar."
Antonio excitedly relayed the information, feeling like he had accomplished the captain's mission. He was absolutely thrilled.
"They're just a few trees away?! This must be fate! Good thing we haven't set sail for the New World yet—tracking them down would've been a real pain otherwise!"
Without hesitation, Brook set off for area No. 21, Antonio in tow, determined to end the Toxic Smoke Pirates and avenge his fallen crew.
The Toxic Smoke Pirates.
Their captain, "Poison Cannon" Sharin, carried a bounty of 56 million Belly. A ruthless man armed to the teeth with toxic weapons, he was infamous for his ambush tactics and poison-based warfare.
"Haha! Captain Sharin, wiping out the Rumbar Pirates was truly satisfying! Pirates are just pirates—what's the point of being 'music pirates'? That kind of nonsense is useless. They got what they deserved!"
A lackey flattered his captain, singing his praises.
Inside the bar, a few pirates who had enjoyed Brook's music—or once heard him sing Bink's Sake—furrowed their brows in anger. Some clenched their fists, ready to start a fight, but their companions quickly held them back.
"You're absolutely right! Pirates should be fighting and slaughtering each other, proving their strength in the New World! Singing? What good is that? I sent them straight to hell—let them sing there, hahahaha!"
After a few drinks, Sharin started boasting, his arrogance growing. The surrounding pirates shot him irritated glares.
"Tch. Just a coward who relies on poison cannons to pillage and ambush his victims... that bounty is way too high."
A young woman with short black hair, a cigarette between her lips, scoffed as she watched the scene unfold. She was a well-known intelligence broker in the Sabaody Archipelago, selling valuable information to various underground organizations. Occasionally, she even took the opportunity to swipe treasure from pirate crews.
"Who's there?! I heard that! Show yourself, now!"
Already tipsy, Sharin suddenly grabbed his massive poison gas cannon, sending the bar into chaos. Low-ranking lackeys scrambled to flee, terrified.
Several pirates, each with bounties exceeding 50 million Belly, frowned in displeasure. While Sabaody was lawless, it wasn't a place where pirates could recklessly start battles—this was their sanctuary, a place to unwind.
"Damn. He actually heard me."
The black-haired woman disappeared into the crowd, leaving Sharin fuming. With a bar full of pirate captains glaring at him, he had no choice but to sit back down, grumbling under his breath before taking another swig of alcohol.
Just as he downed his drink, the bar's doors swung open. A tall, slender figure stood there, carrying a massive chest, staring directly at Sharin.
Sharin's temper flared again.
"What the hell are you looking at, bastard?! You got a death wish?!"
Slamming a boot onto the table, he raised his poison gas cannon toward the door. But as he focused on the figure, something about them seemed... oddly familiar.