It was pretty rare that any kind of weather impeded the activity in the Ninth District. Today, Baltigo was in the middle of an extremely heavy rainstorm, but the various stalls in the market were just as busy as it would be on a sunny day. Pretty much the only thing that was different was the amount of tarp covering the various booths in the market.
Mal was here to find a bounty that probably had already left by now. There had been some transportation issues getting to the island, so instead of taking just a day to get to the island, it took him three. Mal knew he wasn't a known face in the Bounty Hunter community, but he still took the right precautions: he covered his entire body in a thick brown tarp made of animal pelt and instead of his glasses he wore a pair of goggles with the same prescription. His face was mostly covered and he tended to use an extremely gruff voice when attempting to find some information.
Thus far, his leads had dried up and his bounty was probably long-gone, but what the hell else was he going to do in the area? At the very least he could grab something to eat, buy some material for some experiments, and leave via the Sea Train. Mal had managed to procure some special Marinated Seacow Onigiri, so he was mostly just browsing at this point until he could re-board the Sea Train.
The shouts of merchants filled the area as they all just devolved into noise.
"Weapons for Sale! You won't ever hear from your enemies after purchasing my newly-forged swords-"
"Ships for Sale! Buy a deed to a new ship, custom-made to--"
"Exotics for sale! You want a Devil's Fruit? Well, we got Devil's fruit-"
Mal looked off to the Devil's Fruit stand to see that it was clearly just regular fruit with some paint on it. Yet, of course, there were at least a dozen people lined up to purchase some.
There wasn't a lot to trust in this Market: even if something looked appealing to the Bounty Hunter, he doubted he could even trust it. At the very least, he could trust a Junk shop, since it was mostly scrapped parts that most people didn't need: he nodded over to the aging owner of the stall and looked through the bins of parts and materials.
"Hello, zir. Vould you like a vwife?"
Next door to the junk shop was another stall filled with women kneeling subserviently in arm restraints and a short, hairy man in his mid-fourties. The price for the slaves were steep: 100,000,000 Beli for each. Today was clearly not a good day for business, since the Slaver who owned it decided to try and steal shoppers from the stall over. The Slaver spoke with a weird accent that Mal wasn't sure he had heard before.
"Vell, they don't have to be a vwive. They coul' be a maid or a mistress. Do what you vant with zem, just pay up."
Mal looked over the imprisoned women with pity, and the slaver in disgust. He had half a mind to shoot the Slaver if it wasn't for the well-armed guards watching over the women.
Then, one caught his eye. Mal felt his stomach lurch as he moved over to her and studied her features.
"Oh? Does this one satisfy your needs?"
Mal paused for a moment as the woman sat in silence. She had shoulder length, auburn hair, a round boyish face and a small scar on her left ear. They all wore see-through, scrappy garments.
"What is her name?"
"Vhat does it matter, her name. Her name is whatever you want-"
"What is her NAME?"
The Slaver was caught by surprised, but he finally gave up the information.
"I zink her name is... Holiday Mina?"
Mal exhaled in frustration as he briskly walked away from the tent carrying the slaves.
"Shit."
Mal was here to find a bounty that probably had already left by now. There had been some transportation issues getting to the island, so instead of taking just a day to get to the island, it took him three. Mal knew he wasn't a known face in the Bounty Hunter community, but he still took the right precautions: he covered his entire body in a thick brown tarp made of animal pelt and instead of his glasses he wore a pair of goggles with the same prescription. His face was mostly covered and he tended to use an extremely gruff voice when attempting to find some information.
Thus far, his leads had dried up and his bounty was probably long-gone, but what the hell else was he going to do in the area? At the very least he could grab something to eat, buy some material for some experiments, and leave via the Sea Train. Mal had managed to procure some special Marinated Seacow Onigiri, so he was mostly just browsing at this point until he could re-board the Sea Train.
The shouts of merchants filled the area as they all just devolved into noise.
"Weapons for Sale! You won't ever hear from your enemies after purchasing my newly-forged swords-"
"Ships for Sale! Buy a deed to a new ship, custom-made to--"
"Exotics for sale! You want a Devil's Fruit? Well, we got Devil's fruit-"
Mal looked off to the Devil's Fruit stand to see that it was clearly just regular fruit with some paint on it. Yet, of course, there were at least a dozen people lined up to purchase some.
There wasn't a lot to trust in this Market: even if something looked appealing to the Bounty Hunter, he doubted he could even trust it. At the very least, he could trust a Junk shop, since it was mostly scrapped parts that most people didn't need: he nodded over to the aging owner of the stall and looked through the bins of parts and materials.
"Hello, zir. Vould you like a vwife?"
Next door to the junk shop was another stall filled with women kneeling subserviently in arm restraints and a short, hairy man in his mid-fourties. The price for the slaves were steep: 100,000,000 Beli for each. Today was clearly not a good day for business, since the Slaver who owned it decided to try and steal shoppers from the stall over. The Slaver spoke with a weird accent that Mal wasn't sure he had heard before.
"Vell, they don't have to be a vwive. They coul' be a maid or a mistress. Do what you vant with zem, just pay up."
Mal looked over the imprisoned women with pity, and the slaver in disgust. He had half a mind to shoot the Slaver if it wasn't for the well-armed guards watching over the women.
Then, one caught his eye. Mal felt his stomach lurch as he moved over to her and studied her features.
"Oh? Does this one satisfy your needs?"
Mal paused for a moment as the woman sat in silence. She had shoulder length, auburn hair, a round boyish face and a small scar on her left ear. They all wore see-through, scrappy garments.
"What is her name?"
"Vhat does it matter, her name. Her name is whatever you want-"
"What is her NAME?"
The Slaver was caught by surprised, but he finally gave up the information.
"I zink her name is... Holiday Mina?"
Mal exhaled in frustration as he briskly walked away from the tent carrying the slaves.
"Shit."