Spandine's whole body trembled as he watched the last of his CP9 men fall. His face was pale, drenched in cold sweat. He knew he was finished—perhaps even his life would end here. Despair swallowed his eyes.
Shiryu, Enel, Lafitte, and Weevil stepped forward, surrounding him.
"L-Lords," Spandine stammered, bowing his head, "my attitude earlier was… improper. Please forgive me. Whatever you need, I will do my utmost to provide it!"
He was no fool. Facing a true life-or-death crisis, arrogance was useless. If submission bought him survival, he would crawl if he had to.
Buggy eyed him with open disdain. So this is the so-called CP9 commander? Just a coward who bullies the weak and grovels before the strong.
Putting on a fierce expression, Buggy's gaze cut into him like blades. His tone was laced with killing intent:
"Do you want to live… or to die?"
The words froze Spandine's blood. His heart sank, but he clung to the single word—live.
"I want to live!" he blurted. "My lord, I'll agree to anything—just spare me!"
To him, nothing in the world mattered more than his own life.
Buggy tore off the scarf that hid his face, revealing the distinctive red nose.
"Do you recognize me?"
Spandine's eyes locked instantly on that nose. His pupils contracted in shock. He had seen this face before—on bounty posters.
"You… You're Lord Buggy! I've seen your wanted poster. A man renowned across the seas. I—I've always admired you greatly!"
The flattery oozed shamelessly from his lips, though both knew it was a lie. Buggy nearly laughed outright. Admiration? Please. He's just trying to save his skin.
"That's right," Buggy said coldly. "I am Buggy. And you should also know my past identity. The Roger Pirates had deep ties with a certain shipwright here—Tom. Because of us, he now suffers under your government's noose. I've come to… negotiate a solution. I want a satisfactory answer from you."
The name "Tom" made Spandine freeze, then his eyes lit with a flicker of hope. This was leverage he could work with.
"Lord Buggy, I understand. I can… make arrangements. I can ensure the Navy and other agencies look the other way, let you safely take Tom away from Water 7."
He thought Buggy wanted to smuggle Tom out. That much, Spandine believed he could manage.
But Buggy shook his head.
"Tom doesn't want to leave. I want him alive until the Sea Train is completed. I want you to shield him—do everything in your power to ensure his survival. If you can't, then at least inform me the moment his life is in danger."
Spandine's expression twisted. He knew the truth—once the Sea Train was complete, the Government would eliminate Tom. The idea of protecting him was nearly impossible.
Buggy's glare sharpened, his voice rising in anger.
"What's wrong? Can't do it? Should I find someone else, then?"
The meaning was clear: fail, and die.
Spandine stumbled back in fear, waving his hands desperately.
"No, no! I can do it! I swear! I can't promise to save Tom's life for certain, but I'll try with all my strength. And if the worst happens, I will warn you immediately."
In a rush to prove his usefulness, Spandine blurted even more, revealing the Government's obsession with the Pluton blueprints and their plan to move against Tom after the Sea Train was finished.
Buggy widened his eyes, feigning shock, though inside he smirked. So, it really is about Pluton.
He pretended to mull it over, then nodded.
"Fine. I only ask that you do your utmost to protect Tom. If you cannot, I won't hold you responsible. But you must notify me at once."
Hearing Buggy relent, Spandine exhaled in relief. Reporting danger was easy—far easier than protecting Tom against the Government's will.
"Yes, my lord! I'll do everything in my power to keep him alive. And if I can't, I'll delay the order, buy you time, and alert you immediately."
His submission was complete.
Buggy's lips curled into a thin smile. He let out a booming laugh.
"Good! Don't forget your promise. We won't treat you poorly. In fact, we'll reward you generously."
From inside his coat, Buggy produced a blank sheet of paper. Under Spandine's watchful eye, he began writing.
The agreement was simple: Buggy would pay one hundred million berries, and in return, Spandine would use his influence to keep Tom alive, while acknowledging the matter of the Pluton blueprints and his earlier words.
When Spandine read it, his blood drained from his face. Signing this was tantamount to shackling himself. If the World Government ever discovered he had revealed information about Pluton, his death was guaranteed. Yet without Buggy's mercy, death was certain anyway.
Buggy's gaze bore into him, and a faint pulse of Conqueror's Haki radiated outward, suffocating.
Spandine's knees buckled under the weight. He understood the threat clearly. With trembling hands, he took the pen and scrawled his name.
He was trapped.