The only auction house that the Celestial Dragons patronize?
Just from a few words of description from Udyr, Maude immediately understood the origins of this human auction house.
So it was called the Human Auctioning House…
As the very place where the Straw Hat Pirates triggered the Celestial Dragons incident in the original story, Maude's impression of it was still quite vivid—he had just forgotten its name.
With Udyr's "reminder," Maude quickly linked the auction house from his memory to the one Udyr had mentioned.
If he recalled correctly, the mastermind behind the auction house was none other than an "old acquaintance"—Donquixote Doflamingo.
Was Brook targeted by the Human Auctioning House's slave-hunting squad because of Doflamingo's involvement?
This thought flashed through Maude's mind, but he quickly dismissed it.
If Doflamingo truly wanted to interfere, he wouldn't have resorted to such feeble methods.
However, for the decision-makers at the Human Auctioning House to dare take the risk of provoking him, they must have felt emboldened by Doflamingo's influence.
Even though he knew that the people after Brook were affiliated with Doflamingo's business, Maude remained calm and showed no particular concern for Brook's safety.
With Brook's mastery of swift swordplay and his light-footed agility, even without awakening the chilling aura of the underworld, he was not someone ordinary people could handle.
In contrast to Maude's composure, Udyr—who had no personal connection to Brook—was visibly flustered, his anxiety written all over his face.
To an outsider, it might have seemed as though someone had kidnapped his own parents.
Maude glanced at Udyr's reaction with curiosity and reassured him, "Don't panic. Keep in touch with your men and have them report any updates immediately."
"Understood!"
Udyr nodded vigorously before hesitating. "Then… Boss Maude, if we end up clashing with the Human Auctioning House over the skeleton guy, what's your plan?"
"Do you even need to ask?"
Maude let out a cold chuckle and strode toward the direction of Grove #1, where the Human Auctioning House was located.
Though he hadn't given a direct answer, Udyr had received the clearest response possible.
In an instant, Udyr felt a chill run through him.
Within the slave trade of the Sabaody Archipelago, the Human Auctioning House was undeniably the dominant force, backed by an unfathomably deep and powerful influence.
And Udyr himself was part of this industry.
While working for Maude brought substantial "benefits," he had never intended to cross paths with the Human Auctioning House.
Yet, given the current situation, he had no way to avoid it.
Letting out a deep sigh in his heart, Udyr instructed his subordinates to transport the corpses of the three pirate captains to Shakky's Rip-off Bar. He then quickly followed Maude alone.
As they crossed two groves, the Den Den Mushi in Udyr's possession suddenly crackled with an urgent voice from one of his men:
"Boss! The skeleton guy is fighting the Human Auctioning House's slave-hunting squad!"
Udyr's expression changed instantly as he asked quickly, "How many people did they send?"
"About five hundred! Their leader is that bastard, Belloc!"
"It's him… They really went all out to capture the skeleton guy."
Udyr's face twitched involuntarily, clearly intimidated by the man named Belloc.
"Boss, the skeleton guy is incredibly strong! He cut down a bunch of them in just a few moves! But there are too many of them, and with Belloc leading them… Should we step in and help?"
"…"
Hearing this, Udyr did not respond immediately. Instead, he turned to look at Maude.
Maude shook his head at Udyr, signaling that there was no need for them to interfere.
Understanding the cue, Udyr relayed the message through the Den Den Mushi: "No need. Boss Maude and I will be there soon."
"Understood!"
Hearing his subordinate's reply, Udyr secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
If Maude had ordered his men to assist, the casualties would have been catastrophic.
That was not something Udyr wanted to see.
Maude looked at Udyr and asked, "Who is Belloc?"
"A monster with terrifying strength. Frankly, it's embarrassing to admit, but he once nearly killed me with a single strike…"
Speaking of this, Udyr's face showed lingering fear.
By "seriously injured," he likely meant he had barely survived.
Maude nodded slightly at the explanation but did not probe further. Instead, he said, "Udyr, I'm going ahead."
After a brief pause, he added, "You don't have to follow."
With that, Maude didn't wait for Udyr's reaction. Using his Stealth Walk technique, his figure blurred and vanished from Udyr's sight.
Udyr stared blankly in the direction Maude had disappeared.
If he had the choice, he truly wouldn't want to get involved in this mess.
And Maude's parting words were nothing short of a blessing to his ears.
"Thank goodness…"
As Udyr processed what had just happened, he felt a sense of relief.
Yet, inexplicably, a strange feeling of loss crept over him, as though he had just missed out on something significant.
"Boss? Boss?"
The voice from the Den Den Mushi dragged Udyr's thoughts back to reality.
"Withdraw."
He then issued a command to his subordinates on the other end of the line.
His men were momentarily confused.
A few seconds ago, they had been ordered to stay alert, and now they were being told to retreat?
Despite their confusion, they did not question Udyr's orders and quickly pulled back from Grove #30's now-chaotic shopping district.
After ending the call, Udyr murmured to himself, "Even if he can easily deal with Belloc and the others… against a behemoth like the Human Auctioning House, in the end, he's still just one man…"
His words trailed off into silence.
For some reason, Udyr felt inexplicably irritated.
Grove #30 – Shopping District.
The once bustling district was now in complete disarray. Food scraps littered the ground, along with shoes and clothing hastily abandoned by those fleeing in panic.
At the center of the district, a group of men had surrounded Brook.
"Damn skeleton! He moves faster than a monkey!"
A voice filled with frustration and gritted teeth came from within the group attacking Brook.
"How rude!"
Brook, enraged by the insult, immediately launched into a Straight Piercing attack. The tip of his sword shot forward like a radar, cutting through the crowd and precisely striking the slaver who had just spoken.
The man crumpled to the ground, his curses abruptly silenced.
Without missing a beat, Brook unleashed a flurry of rapid thrusts, taking down several more enemies who had rushed at him.
He had merely come to the shopping district to have some custom-fitted clothes made, but he never expected to be ambushed.
His attackers made no effort to conceal their intentions, brazenly declaring that they would clamp a slave collar around his neck and auction him off as the grand finale at this month's recurring auction.
This put Brook in a foul mood, and his attacks became all the more lethal.
At the edge of the battlefield.
A towering, heavily tattooed man wielding a massive spiked club stood watching the battle unfold. He was at least four meters tall, his face an emotionless mask as he observed his subordinates being cut down one after another.
This was Belloc, the man leading the mission to capture Brook.
"So, he uses a speed-based sword style… Just my least favorite type."
Having encountered countless fighters, Belloc instantly recognized Brook's technique.
He carefully observed Brook's movements, studying his attacks, but made no move to intervene just yet.
Letting his underlings probe the enemy's strength was a strategy he always relied on.
Once Brook had taken down around thirty of his men, Belloc had gained enough insight into his capabilities.
That sword speed is unreal!
Of all the speed-based swordsmen Belloc had ever encountered, Brook was the fastest—by far.
He's strong.
That was Belloc's honest evaluation after watching Brook fight.
However, like most swordsmen who prioritized speed, Brook's attacks lacked raw power.
And when dealing with speed-based swordsmen, there was a simple countermeasure—if you could withstand a single strike, you could end the fight in the very next second.
Now confident in his strategy, Belloc dragged his massive spiked club along the ground and strode into the battlefield.
The sacrifice of over thirty subordinates had given him absolute confidence.
"All of you, stand down."
At his command, the slavers immediately withdrew, clearing a space for their leader to face Brook.
Belloc approached Brook with ease, lifting his oversized club with a smirk.
"Don't worry. I know how to hold back. I won't smash you into pieces—at least, not right away."
"Yohohoho…"
Brook noticed the loosened formation of the slavers but didn't engage with Belloc's pre-battle taunts. Instead, he scanned his surroundings for an escape route.
There's no way I'm dragging my crew into this.
That was his genuine thought.
"Trying to run? Dream on!"
Whether it was due to experience or sheer instinct, Belloc immediately saw through Brook's intentions.
Without wasting another word, he charged forward, dragging his massive club at high speed.
Brook tensed and raised his sword defensively.
But just as he braced for impact, Belloc suddenly skidded to a stop.
In an instant, the confidence that had radiated from him vanished without a trace. It was replaced by sheer terror—the kind of fear a lowly commoner might feel when facing an untouchable king.
"?"
Brook blinked, a question mark practically forming over his head.
He didn't dare turn around.
After all, deception was a common tactic in battle. There was no telling if this was just an elaborate feint.
Then he heard the sound of numerous footsteps approaching from behind.
A moment later, under Brook's astonished gaze, Belloc swiftly retreated, releasing his fearsome club as he dropped to his knees.
His head, like that of an ostrich burying itself in the sand, pressed firmly against the ground.
And it wasn't just Belloc.
Every single one of the once-arrogant slavers followed suit—kneeling in absolute submission!
Brook had a very bad feeling about this.
Could it be…
Stiffly, he turned his skull-like head and looked back.
A large group of people was approaching in a grand procession.
At the very front walked a woman with an elegant face, clad in extravagant, puffy garments, her head encased in a distinctive transparent bubble.
A Celestial Dragon.
The moment Brook recognized her unmistakable attire, he had to resist the powerful urge to ask about the color of her underwear.
Instead, a much more pressing question came to mind—
Should I kneel?
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