Mock Town seemed to be more crowded than ever. Fenrir had only been in the pirate infested town for a few days and already could see the change. People with a lot of different tattoos on their bodies roamed around the streets. His left hand would unconsciously move towards the slave tattoo on his face. Remembering the days being held in the bunker on Karakuri Island. His lips would form into a small smirk, as he remembered how he dealt with his captures. Turning around on the stool, Fenrir would face away from the door leading to the streets and would look at the bartender. “Could I get some red wine?” asked Fenrir, in a light and casual voice. The man would nod, grabbing a glass from the sink and wiping it dry. As he looked for the wine, Fenrir ears and nose would twitch as new sounds and smells would enter the bar. Turning his head slightly, he would see men dressed in black suits. “I wonder what they are up to.” he whispered to no one in particular. He would watch as they hung up posters all around the bar. Five in total, at each corner of the bar, and one on the door itself. And as quickly as they arrived would be the same as the left.
“Here you go.” announced the bartender, as he handed Fenrir his glass of wind. Most would say that Fenrir was too underaged to be drinking, but he was a pirate. Being hunted by marines and scientists alike. He was sure he could drink some alcohol every now and then. Bringing the glass to his mouth, Fenrir would drink the red liquid slowly. The structure of it feeling like blood, as it slowly went down his throat. “Awww, this is good.” muttered Fenrir in enjoyment. He would look around the bar, as people had gotten from their seats and started inspecting the posters. Fenrir wasn’t too much interested in them. He would enjoy his wine for now.