Chapter 2

If it were before the soul transfer, Mod could easily withstand a bullet.

But now...

The black gun barrel seemed like a scythe of death hanging over his head, and if it fell, it would surely mean certain death.

"I have no ill intentions."

Facing the gun barrel, with no room for thought, Mod quickly declared his stance.

The gun barrel had been aimed at him the moment it was brought into the room, indicating that the person holding the gun had detected his small movements even before pushing the door open.

In this situation, Mod had no choice but to assert that he was harmless.

After all, the current state of this body could not support any kind of response.

Silence reigned outside the door, the gun barrel unmoving.

After a few moments, a slightly hoarse female voice came from outside the door: "Stand in front of me."

"Okay."

Mod moved without hesitation to the front of the door, and the gun barrel followed closely.

Only when he reached the front of the door did Mod see the person holding the gun.

It was a thin girl in a coarse cloth dress.

The girl had short, sharp hair, and three scars like claw marks ran from the left corner of her eyebrow to the right corner of her mouth.

If it weren't for the hoarse female voice, she might have been mistaken for a boy at first glance.

"I have no ill intentions."

Mod restated his position, then slowly raised his hands to show that he was unarmed.

At the same time, he glanced at the burlap bag in the girl's left hand, his eyelids twitching slightly.

Compared to the steady and experienced way she held the gun, the presence of the burlap bag made Mod even more uneasy.

Sunny stared into Mod's eyes and said coolly, "Be honest. If we wanted to harm you, do you think you would still have the chance to speak here?"

After a slight warning, Sunny quickly put away the flintlock gun.

She also knew that Mod's small movements were more out of self-preservation, otherwise, she would have pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Seeing that the situation wasn't as bad, Mod breathed a sigh of relief.

"Since you're awake, you don't need this anymore."

Without waiting for Mod's reaction, Sunny casually threw away the burlap bag.

Including the return trip, this guy had been unconscious for seven days.

According to Thor's instructions, if he didn't wake up, he would be scrapped to recover some of the medical costs spent on Mod.

Unexpectedly, this guy woke up at the last moment.

Mod glanced at the burlap bag, his lips moving, and said, "If I hadn't woken up, this burlap bag... was it meant to hold me?"

"Yes, if you hadn't woken up, I would have stuffed you into the burlap bag and sold you to the black market. Then, you would have been disassembled into dozens of parts by the 'undertakers' and turned into commodities that can be bought with money."

Sunny smiled coldly.

Mod remained silent.

Disassembled, parts, sold.

The words were somewhat euphemistic, but he could roughly guess what kind of black industry it was.

The gunshots earlier also indicated that this place was far from peaceful.

He could tell that Sunny wasn't joking, but as she said, if they wanted to harm him, he wouldn't have had the chance to wake up.

In other words, although the future was uncertain, he was at least safe for now.

As long as his situation wasn't bad, he had a chance to develop using the Hunter's Notebook.

"What should I call you?"

Mod turned to ask the girl's name.

Sunny slowly narrowed her eyes and smiled, "You're pretty calm. Just call me Sunny. As for your name, I should know it."

Mod was taken aback, not understanding, but then saw Sunny pull out an old bronze pocket watch from her pocket.

Seeing the familiar yet strange pocket watch, Mod raised an eyebrow.

It was his.

No, to be precise, it was the previous owner's.

However, when the previous owner was transferred to the slave ship, the pocket watch should have been taken by a man.

Now, the pocket watch was in Sunny's hands.

So, the people who attacked the slave ship were Sunny and her group?

Mod thought to himself.

If he remembered correctly, the pocket watch had two photos inside: one was a full-body photo taken during the previous owner's sixteenth birthday, with his signature in the bottom right corner, which explained why Sunny said what she did.

The other photo was a family photo... hmm?

Was it a family of three or four?

His head began to ache again.

Mod frowned.

Sunny was looking down at the pocket watch and didn't see Mod's expression.

"This pocket watch is yours, but it's now my 'trophy.' However, since we might become colleagues, I'll reluctantly return it to you."

Sunny threw the pocket watch to Mod.

Mod caught the pocket watch, enduring the pain as he opened the lid, revealing the stopped clock face and the two photos embedded inside.

His gaze swept over his full-body photo and then stopped on the family photo of four people smiling brightly.

Four?

Wasn't it just the previous owner and his parents?

Some memories suddenly began to resurface, and the pain in his head intensified.

Mod quickly closed the lid and remained silent.

He was grateful for the new life this body had given him, but he didn't want to be affected by the lingering memories.

Sunny noticed Mod's unusual behavior but wasn't interested in delving deeper. She reminded him, "As someone who has been through it, I suggest you destroy the photo with the signature and take a new name."

Mod looked up at Sunny, not asking why, and said, "Thank you, I'll consider it."

Sunny nodded and then glanced at the bloodstained bandage on Mod's forehead, not saying more. She got straight to the point, "Come, let's go see Thor."

Mod naturally had no right to refuse. He put away the pocket watch and obediently followed Sunny.

The two walked down the corridor and down the stairs to the first floor.

As soon as they reached the first floor, a loud noise came from the front of the corridor, like a wooden door being kicked open and slamming against the wall.

Sunny stopped at the sound, and Mod also stopped, looking toward the front of the corridor.

As the sound of the door being kicked faded, a hoarse, elderly male voice immediately rang out.

"Kidd, you damn brat, kicking my shop door again. Do you want me to cut your tendons?"

"Shut up, I've brought the money, give me Kenu's gun."

A distinctly rebellious male voice retorted.

"Get lost, I'd rather dismantle that gun and throw it in the landfill than sell it to you."

"Oh, then throw it. I'll find it anyway."

"Get lost!"

The conversation came from the front of the corridor, seemingly from a small shop at the end.

Listening to the conversation from the front of the shop, Sunny sighed in frustration.

The conversation continued, the tension growing.

"Follow me."

Sunny quickened her pace.

Mod silently followed.

The corridor wasn't long, and the two soon reached the front of the shop.

There was no time to observe the shop's layout or type. Mod's attention was immediately drawn to the old man and the young boy who seemed ready to fight.

As the voices had indicated, it was an old man and a young boy.

Mod guessed that the old man was probably the Thor Sunny mentioned, and the rebellious young boy was a customer.

"Hmm?"

Mod looked at the young boy's conspicuous red spiky hair, his gaze then swept over the goggles on the boy's forehead, and finally rested on the somewhat familiar face.

Memories associated with the scene suddenly flooded his mind.

"Kidd?"

Mod's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the red-haired spiky-headed boy.

When he first heard the name, he hadn't made the connection, but now, seeing the real person, he finally confirmed that this was the world of One Piece.

However, compared to the memories, this Kidd was clearly younger and more naive.

Mod instinctively considered Kidd as one of his targets.

Because the ability of the Hunter's Notebook was designed to target characters with exposed information in the original story.