As he left the bounty office with a stack of posters, Morrow debated on which he wanted to started with. He had learned from the counter guy that only by bringing in the criminal alive would he get the full bounty. Things were evidently different if the bounty was high enough to really be a threat to the World Government, but for the common dregs they liked to keep them as a show to the people that they were really doing their jobs. A dead body would result in a 30% cut in value because the government couldn't hold a public execution. Bloodthirsty fucks.

He had no real sense of scale for how strong he really was, but he felt reasonably confident in beating anyone under 5 million. Actually, that might be underselling himself, but he needed to make sure to leave himself some wiggle room as well because of his disadvantages. He needed the target alive and he might also end up facing the whole crew together. He wanted a fight, but he wasn't particularly suicidal. As he flipped through the posters one stuck out to him.

Jacques Volture, Wanted Dead or Alive; 3,000,000 berry.

The poster brought back his memory to the last newspaper he ordered. If he remembered right, this guy wasn't a pirate but a bandit. Why hasn't anybody cleared this guy out already? Jaques wasn't somewhere hidden, all his known raids occured in the same general area. He was prime bounty hunter material even if the government lacked the ability to clear his band out for some reason.

There was probably something shady going on, but this bounty still had appeal. East Blue's strong pirate crews might hike out near a town, but the small fries within his range knew how to keep their heads down. That made buying information on their movements from the broker necessity if he didn't want to spend weeks questioning fish to find them at sea, and right now Morrow was almost broke. Jaques on the other hand was not hard to find as long as you read the newspaper.

Pencord Desert was it? That's only a 5 day hike from here, and less if I rush. Ok, no point dragging, Jacques it is.

With that decided, he purchased the necessary clothing and a barrel of water with his bottom dollars before leaving Jadir.

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I'm an idiot. What was I thinking about when I decided this was a good idea?

It had been 3 days since leaving Jadir, and Morrow was currently cursing himself for forgetting one of the greatest weaknesses of his race. Fishmen were indeed born with great strength, but they were primarily aquatic. They could live on land for a fairly long time as long as it was humid, but a desert would dry them out in days without a lot of drinking water. Thanks to his foresight in buying the barrel he was far from being dried out yet, but it was even more uncomfortable than he ever expected.

More pertinent to his current situation, Fishman Karate would face a great discount without a nearby water source. He hadn't currently reached a level of condensating water out of the air, and even if he had there would be little water to draw here. His trident also felt like holding molten steel until he wrapped a spare shirt around it as an impromptu grip.

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I need to find Jacques quickly. Maybe I should have saved some gaudy gold jewelry as bait? Oh right, no money. Sigh.

His thoughts were interrupted as an arrow through the space he had just occupied. Archers! He followed the trajectory back to a dune on his left and could see 5 robed figures charging out of sandy hide-a-ways that had been practically invisible moments before. Oh, I'm so lucky today.

The bandits currently charging him had scimitars, and Morrow figured they still had 1 or 2 bowmen still hidden on the dune waiting for opportunity. Best not to give them a chance. He pulled out his trident before charging himself so as to get some bodies between him and the archers. Fine technique was unnecessary, as he hit the bandits like a bull in a china shop.

It was a long standing pet peeve of Morrow's and even his previous life as Adam that fantasy always seemed to hold the sword up on a pedestal. The guy with the longer weapon wins 9 times out of 10 assuming equal skill, and between Morrow and the bandits they were definitely not of equal skill.

He speared the guy in front before he could even get in range, and rather than trying to shake him off he initiated sweep with the body still dangling off it like he was going for a home run at Bandit #2. The guy literally bounced a bit before rolling to a stop about 5 meters away. He didn't get up again, and he finally had some free space to pry Bandit #1 off the prongs of his trident.

The other bandits had backed off a bit looking at him in fear and he grinned. Amateurs. Unfortunately, the still hidden archer/s didn't share their trepidation as another 2 arrows fired at him. He had lost his cool and forgotten about them with the bandits in front despite specifically trying to keep them in mind. Shit. Talk about words coming back to bite you. It was another symptom of his lack of experience fighting groups, and he vaguely remembered tunnel vision as one of the lead causes of deaths for soldiers. 

He dodged one of them, but another arrow managed to take him in the raised left arm he'd been forced to use as a shield. Ok, no more messing around. Fortunately his dominant arm was still perfectly fine. He charged for the initial dune before they could put new arrows to the string, intent on getting a little even. He reached it in less than a second while Bandit #3 was still fumbling with the quiver. Alone then. The guy's eyes went wide as his situation registered, but he barely managed to pull a dagger before being solved.

The other bandits had tried to stop him, but they were simply too slow. He turned to look back at them and tried to give his best confident look. It was always best to pretend you had everything in hand in a fight, as any weakness or pain shown would just give the other guy confidence. He charged again..

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By the end of the short scrap, he'd added a few scratches to the puncture in his arm. He tied a headband he picked off one of the dead guys over his bicep in an amateur bandage before surveying his 2 prisoners. He'd actually only wanted the last guy to interrogate, but evidently Bandit #2 had survived his career as a home run even if he was knocked unconscious. Seriously, people in this world are always surprisingly sturdy. He kept him as backup instead of finishing him off in case the first prisoner refused to talk.

He hoped to get the location of Jacques out of them, but he frankly didn't have any experience with interrogation or torture. He could only use some crude means, which meant 'I'll let you go if you tell, or you can join your buddies in death' or some variation thereof.

"So Mr. Bandit, let's have a nice talk...."