Upon hearing the question, Yahn thought for a moment and then answered seriously.
"A name is just a codename. One of my principles is to do good deeds without leaving a name behind. After all, I'm quite worried about retaliation from bad people."
Do good deeds… without leaving a name?
Worried about retaliation from bad people?
Capone Bell was completely dumbfounded. He never imagined such words would come from this bespectacled boy in front of him—who looked more like a monster than a human.
This… is a good deed?
And afraid of retaliation from bad people? What does that even mean?
You, of all people, are afraid of bad people? Worried about revenge? Or are you implying that my Capone Mafia isn't even qualified to be called "bad"?
Seeing the humiliated and bewildered look on Capone Bell's face, Yahn considered explaining himself—but ultimately chose not to.
After all, the main reason he didn't want to reveal his name was his fear of it spreading unintentionally, leading to strange rumors or unwanted fame.
Low-key. Cautious. Safe.
That was Yahn's way of doing things.
Even if he was strong enough to hold the rank of First-Class Seaman in the Navy and punch someone like "Whitebeard" to death, there was no need to become arrogant or boastful.
After all, the Devil Fruits in this sea came in all kinds of strange and unpredictable forms.
Zoan types? Not too scary. Logia types? Manageable. But those ghost-type fruits, rewind fruits, toy fruits… now those were truly abnormal.
Against such fruit powers, no matter how strong you were, everyone was basically on equal footing.
So, for safety's sake, Yahn saw no point in publicizing his name just because he happened to wipe out a mafia group.
Besides, taking down a mafia wasn't even that big of a deal.
Just then, the Devil Fruit user closest to Yahn—the one who seemed to possess the powers of a bear—suddenly exploded into action.
Even as countless cherry blossoms sliced through his flesh and blood, the massive figure of the bear-user launched himself from the floor. With violent strength gathering in his paw, he struck down toward Yahn's head.
From the howling wind of the strike, Yahn estimated the blow was powerful enough to flatten a building.
In the West Blue, this level of strength was already considered elite. A surprise attack like that could easily kill a regular Navy officer of lieutenant rank.
However—
"Just because I look like a well-mannered scholar, you underestimate me..."
Yahn muttered with a hint of annoyance, tightening his grip on the hilt of his Zanpakutō.
In an instant, the cherry blossoms that had been slowly slicing through the bear-user's body accelerated dramatically.
A cloud of blood mist bloomed amidst the beautiful sea of pink petals, and the bear paw froze—stopping completely just ten centimeters away from Yahn's head.
Thud!
The bear-user, now weighing nearly half of what he did before, collapsed heavily to the ground—completely lifeless.
"As a bear-type Devil Fruit user… couldn't you just have played dead? If you hadn't attacked me, you might have lived. I'm actually very kind."
Yahn sighed with genuine regret and then shifted his gaze to the other three Zoan-type Devil Fruit users.
But after witnessing the instant death of the most powerful among them, the remaining ability users lost even the tiniest urge to resist.
Despite the cherry blossoms still tearing at their flesh, none of them dared to approach Yahn. Instead, they all backed away in unison—crashing through the room's windows and leaping down to the floors below in a desperate attempt to escape.
"…Ah, well."
Yahn's lips twitched. He raised his hand slightly, but it was already too late to stop them. His words came half a beat slower.
"Don't—downstairs is something even more terrifying… a monster…"
The next moment, the sound of ice rapidly forming echoed from below.
Yahn knew then that those poor souls likely died very peacefully—with little to no pain.
Turning his attention back, he looked at the pale and sweat-drenched Capone Bell and asked calmly,
"Do you have handcuffs?"
Though still confused by Yahn's intention, Capone Bell, driven by fear, quickly stammered,
"Y-Yes! I do, I do!"
He rushed to the drawer behind the desk and laid out four or five pairs of handcuffs on the table, offering them as if to a master.
There were pure gold ones, diamond-encrusted ones, ones with intricate patterns, and even bizarrely-shaped ones…
Yahn blinked in surprise before quickly realizing the true purpose of those handcuffs. He couldn't help but tease,
"Well, looks like you've got quite the... interesting hobby."
"Haha… it's nothing…" Capone Bell chuckled awkwardly.
Then Yahn dropped a line that drained the color from Capone Bell's face entirely.
"Well then, pick your favorite pair—and cuff yourself."
"P-Please! Don't do this… please, have mercy, sir…" Capone Bell trembled, begging for his life.
"Mercy? What were you doing earlier then?"
Yahn, clearly impatient, waved his hand. "Stop wasting time. Otherwise, I'll just do it myself."
Capone Bell bit his lip hard, eyes full of despair and reluctant determination. With trembling hands, he picked up a pair of solid gold cuffs.
Then, he lay down on the table, cuffing his left hand to his left foot. He picked up a second, ornate pair of cuffs and prepared to link his right hand to his right foot—
Yahn frowned at the bizarre posture and, realizing what was happening, asked in disbelief,
"What the hell are you doing? I told you to cuff your hands together—so you could come with me!"
"Huh?!"
Capone Bell's face filled with both surprise and intense embarrassment.
Panicking that Yahn might change his mind, he quickly unlocked the cuffs binding his hand and foot, then obediently locked both wrists together and handed Yahn the key with utmost respect.
"Pervert. Perverted mind," Yahn muttered as a final judgment.
Just as he was about to take Capone Bell away, something in the corner of the room caught Yahn's eye—a safe.
Yahn didn't particularly care about money, but out of a treasure-hunter's instinct, he pointed and said,
"Open that. I need to check it for criminal evidence."
"Y-Yes, of course!"
Capone Bell, now fully aware that he was in Yahn's hands, had no intention of resisting. He rushed over and opened the half-human-sized safe without protest.
"Hiss…"
A golden glow burst out.
Not a single green note of berry was in sight—only solid gold, jewels, and rare minerals of extremely high value filled the safe to the brim.
Though Yahn was the adopted son of Admiral Sengoku, his daily life was far from luxurious. He barely even had an allowance.
"These are all solid evidence… solid proof of illegal profits made by the mafia," Yahn murmured.