The young woman dancing on the stage didn't initially notice the Marine soldiers under the glaring lights. It wasn't until these conspicuously uniformed men walked to the edge of the stage that she realized their presence.
Most of the women working in the tavern as entertainers were former factory workers. When the wave of regional factory closures hit, unemployment often didn't affect just one or two members of a family—it left entire households without income. Out of necessity to support their families, these women were forced to take up such degrading work. No one willingly chose to work in a place like this, especially not to stand on a central stage and perform provocative dances under the gaze of countless strangers.
The young dancer gritted her teeth, forcing herself to maintain her awkward steps. But after a while, when she heard the very individuals responsible for her current plight whistling and jeering at her like the other patrons, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her eyes reddened, and she covered her mouth as she ran off the stage.
The Marine soldiers below were left dumbfounded, unsure of what had just happened. The tavern grew quieter due to the sudden turn of events on stage. At that moment, a filthy rag flew out from the shadows and smacked squarely onto the face of one of the Marines.
The soldiers erupted in anger. The Marine who had been hit spat repeatedly, wiping his mouth with his hat in disgust. Meanwhile, his companion picked up the rag and scanned the dimly lit room, but it was too dark to identify the culprit. Frustrated, he shouted, "Who did this?"
No one responded. Sitting nearby, Basco glanced over his shoulder. He had felt something fly past above him earlier, and now he saw Felisk standing not far away, trembling with rage. The rag that had been in Felisk's hand was now conspicuously missing.
The Marine who had been hit finally regained his composure, his face flushed red with fury. Perhaps blinded by anger, he yelled, "If no one speaks up, I'll treat all of you as Morgan William's accomplices and throw you in prison!"
The tavern fell into an even deeper silence. After a brief pause, someone cursed loudly, "To hell with you!" and hurled a glass toward the Marines.
The soldiers reacted quickly, dodging the flying glass, which shattered on the floor. But the act seemed to ignite a spark. Suddenly, glasses, plates, and bottles flew out from the darkness, pelting the Marines.
Though Basco remained composed and refrained from joining in, his comrades, fueled by excitement, eagerly began throwing objects as well.
The Marines, overwhelmed and shielding their heads, scrambled toward the tavern's entrance. One of them, looking up as he ran, spotted Basco and his group—easily identifiable by their uniforms and their clustering together. Pointing at them, he shouted, "You lot, just wait!"
Basco's heart sank, sensing trouble. His comrades, however, were unbothered and instead redoubled their efforts, laughing as they threw more objects.
While chaos brewed in Kalmar City, with tensions running high among the populace and Vice Admiral Garp and the other three Vice Admirals forced to adjust their plans due to the burning of the Faraise Kingdom's royal palace, the instigators of these events had already lowered their pirate flag and docked on a deserted island in the East Blue to rest.
By dusk, "Clown" Buggy, accompanied by his trusted confidant and current first mate, Cabaji, made his way to the other side of the island's beach. There, a group of people was waiting for them.
"Captain Buggy," greeted a handsome man at the front of the group. He had been facing the sea but turned around with a smile as Buggy approached. "It's been a while."
"Dampier," Buggy sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't expect you to show up here in person. I thought someone like you wouldn't dare set foot in the East Blue anymore."
"How could I pass up the chance to reunite with such a talented former associate after all this time?" Dampier chuckled lightly.
Buggy didn't believe a word that came out of Dampier's mouth. Frowning, he cut straight to the point. "What about what you promised me? Are you backing out? This was something Morgan William himself agreed to. I've already made the necessary arrangements. If you go back on your word, my people will expose everything I know about you."
"William's word is as good as gold," Dampier replied calmly. He took a box from one of his subordinates and handed it to Buggy. "Now, it's time to return what belongs to you."
When Buggy opened the box, he was overwhelmed with emotion, feeling as though he might cry. Inside the box lay a perfectly square chunk of flesh, as if it had been cut cleanly with a blade or axe.
Buggy lifted his shirt, revealing his bare chest. On the left side, where his heart should have been, there was a square-shaped cavity that matched the piece of flesh in the box. Hurriedly, he grabbed the chunk and pressed it back into the cavity, clutching his chest tightly as if afraid someone might take it away again.
The great pirate Buggy had endured countless humiliations, forced to obey the whims of an upstart like William, all because this vital piece of his body had been in William's possession. But now, at last, he was free from William's grasp!
The heavens had finally smiled upon him!
Thinking of William's capture, Buggy couldn't help but add another thought: Justice always prevails!
"And here's the payment we agreed on," Dampier said, waiting for Buggy to finish his emotional moment. He then produced a map and handed it to Buggy. "This small town has a secret treasury belonging to the Four Seas Trading Company. The wealth stored there wasn't evacuated in time and is worth over three hundred million Berries."
Buggy snatched the map eagerly, his nose nearly touching the parchment as he scrutinized it. "The Four Seas Trading Company is this rich? Even a random treasury in some small town holds this much wealth?"
"You'd have to ask Sherlock about that. You know I don't deal with such matters," Dampier replied with a smile. Seeing Buggy's enthusiasm, he seemed to feel a tinge of regret and couldn't help but advise, "Honestly, Buggy, with your intellect, wasting your potential as a treasure-hunting pirate is such a shame. You'd be far more valuable working in my laboratory."
"You've already got the Buggy Ball from me. What more do you want? I'm not about to join you and go against the Marines—that's a death wish," Buggy scoffed. "Besides, with Morgan William captured, are you still clinging to hope?"
"The Buggy Ball still has room for improvement," Dampier said, unfazed by Buggy's dismissive attitude. "And yes, we will rescue William."
"The Buggy Ball is already powerful enough," Buggy retorted, rolling up the map and tucking it into his pocket, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. "And if you think stirring up a bunch of fools to distract the Marines will help you rescue William, you're dreaming. Even if everyone else leaves, with those four Vice Admirals—especially Vice Admiral Garp—guarding Kalmar City, you'll never get William out."
"We have more than one plan," Dampier replied cryptically. He glanced at Cabaji before motioning for Buggy to come closer. When Buggy leaned in curiously, Dampier whispered a few words into his ear.
Buggy's jaw dropped as he listened, his eyes wide with disbelief. He seemed to forget how to breathe, and a string of snot dripped from his iconic red nose, unnoticed.
"You... you're insane!" Buggy finally exclaimed, staring at Dampier as if he were a ghost. "If you go through with this, it'll blow everything wide open."
Dampier didn't answer directly. Instead, he asked, "Do you think Garp will stand by and do nothing?"
"I don't know!" Buggy shook his head frantically, grabbing Cabaji and hurrying away.
Dampier didn't stop them. Once their panicked figures disappeared from view, his expression changed. The regretful smile on his face faded, replaced by a cold, disdainful smirk.
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