The main hall of the Buggy Pirates' temporary headquarters buzzed with an energy that was equal parts excitement and fear. Word had spread quickly through the ranks that their captain's "other self" had emerged—the terrifying personality that had somehow managed to stand toe-to-toe with Admiral Sakazuki and live to tell the tale.
"Can you believe we're seeing him again?" whispered one of the newer recruits, a former bounty hunter from Loguetown who had thrown his lot in with the crew after witnessing their captain's impossible feat. "The same man who fought Akainu to a standstill..."
"Keep your voice down," hissed another pirate, this one bearing the scars of a dozen failed ventures in East Blue. "You don't want to attract his attention unless he calls for it."
Now the clown pirate believes that their Captain has two different personalities, believing that their lord decided to use his devil fruit power to split his own personalities in the past to avoid Marine attention.
The confident, domineering pirate who emerged during battle carried an intoxicating aura. The Lord Buggy as in Buggy controlled by Kaito
This gentler, more vulnerable Buggy, or Captain Buggy as in the Real Buggy.
The assembled pirates filled every available space in the converted warehouse, their numbers having swelled dramatically during their stay on PetalwindIsland. What had once been a modest crew of familiar faces now resembled a proper pirate fleet, with over five hundred men and women who had flocked to Buggy's banner after news of his clash with the Admiral had spread across the East Blue.
At the center of the gathering, elevated on a makeshift platform that had once served as a loading dock, sat the source of their collective awe and terror. The figure that occupied the captain's chair bore only superficial resemblance to the Buggy they had known before—this version towered over four meters in height, his presence filling the space with an almost tangible aura of authority and danger.
The Lord Buggy's clown makeup seemed more pronounced in this form, the red nose and painted smile taking on an almost demonic quality in the flickering torchlight. His simple coat hung open, revealing a muscled chest that spoke of power barely contained. Every breath he took seemed to carry weight, every slight movement causing the assembled pirates to shift nervously.
Alvida perched gracefully on the arm of his chair, her beauty a stark contrast to the raw power radiating from the man beside her. She had learned to read the signs of his transformations, and this version of Buggy always brought with it plans that would reshape their little corner of the world.
Mohji stood at attention to their captain's right, his usual confident demeanor tempered by obvious nervousness. Beside him, Richie the lion seemed to sense his master's unease, the great beast's tail twitching with barely suppressed anxiety. To the left, Cabaji maintained his characteristic stoic expression, though his knuckles were white where they gripped his unicycle's handlebars.
The Lord Buggy's gaze swept across the assembled crowd with methodical precision, taking in every face, cataloging every expression of fear, excitement, and desperate ambition. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a resonance that seemed to vibrate through the very bones of those listening.
"When did the Buggy Pirates become such a... substantial fleet?" The question was directed at Mohji, but the animal tamer could feel the weight of every eye in the room upon him.
Mohji's answer came quickly, his words tumbling over each other in his haste to explain. "These pirates sought us out, Captain! After word spread of your... your victory over Admiral Sakazuki, they came seeking to join our cause. I established screening processes, background checks, skill assessments—"
"You recruited without permission," the Lord Buggy interrupted, his tone carrying a dangerous undertone that made several pirates near the back of the crowd take unconscious steps toward the exits.
The effect on Mohji was immediate and dramatic. The usually boisterous animal tamer dropped to his knees as if his strings had been cut, his face going pale beneath his furry hat. "Captain, I thought—I believed we needed the numbers if we were going to—"
"Stand up, Mohji." The command cut through the animal tamer's panicked babbling like a sword through silk. "Your initiative, while unauthorized, shows promise. These numbers will be useful for what comes next."
The relief that washed over Mohji was so visible that several of the newer recruits actually relaxed their own tense postures. If their captain could show mercy to someone who had exceeded their authority, perhaps service under this terrifying figure wouldn't be the death sentence some had feared.
Cabaji stepped forward slightly, his performer's instincts reading the room's mood perfectly. "Sir, should we begin implementing fleet restructuring? With these numbers, we'll need proper command hierarchies, supply chains, communication protocols—"
"All in due time," the Lord Buggy replied, raising one massive hand to forestall further discussion. "But first, we address the reason I've gathered you all here tonight."
The atmosphere in the room shifted again, excitement replacing fear as the assembled pirates sensed that their captain was about to unveil some grand design. These were men and women who had chosen a life of adventure and danger—the promise of something extraordinary was exactly what they had signed up for.
"The East Blue," Buggy continued, his voice carrying easily to every corner of the warehouse, "has served its purpose. But a man of my caliber cannot remain content with such... limited horizons forever. It's time we made our mark on the Grand Line."
The cheer that erupted from the crowd was deafening. Pirates raised bottles, weapons, and fists in celebration, their voices combining into a roar that could probably be heard across half the island. The Grand Line represented everything they had dreamed of when they first took to the seas—treasure beyond imagination, adventures that would make them legends, the chance to carve their names into the history of the age.
But the Lord Buggy wasn't finished. He waited patiently for the noise to subside, his presence alone enough to gradually restore order to the gathering. When he spoke again, his words carried a weight that made it clear this was no simple announcement.
"However," he said, and the single word was enough to silence every voice in the room, "before we set sail for those more dangerous waters, we have a recruitment mission to complete. There's someone whose particular talents would be... invaluable to our organization."
From within his coat, the Lord Buggy produced a folded piece of paper, worn and yellowed with age. As he unfolded it and held it up for all to see, gasps rippled through the assembled crowd. The face on the wanted poster was unmistakable, even to those who had never ventured beyond East Blue.
"Bartholomew Kuma," he announced, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent warehouse. "Former King of the Sorbet Kingdom. Current member of the Shichibukai. Known to the world as the 'Tyrant.'"
The silence that followed was so complete that the sound of Richie's breathing seemed abnormally loud. Several of the newer recruits exchanged glances that clearly asked whether their captain had finally lost his mind entirely. The Seven Warlords of the Sea were among the most dangerous individuals on the planet—pirates so powerful that the World Government had decided it was safer to grant them legal immunity than to continue hunting them.
One of the more experienced pirates, a grizzled veteran with more scars than skin, finally found his voice. "Captain, with all due respect... the Tyrant isn't like other pirates. He actually works with the Marines. They say he's destroyed entire countries on behalf of the World Government."
"They also say," the Lord Buggy replied with a smile that was all teeth and sharp edges, "that he's completely emotionless. A perfect soldier who follows orders without question or hesitation." His smile widened. "What they don't say is why a man would choose to become such a thing. Or more importantly... what might convince him to choose differently."
Alvida, who had remained silent throughout the discussion, leaned forward slightly. Her voice carried a note of curiosity rather than concern. "You have a plan, don't you? Something specific?"
"I have something better than a plan," the Lord Buggy replied. "I have leverage. Every man has something he values more than his own life, something he would sacrifice everything to protect. The Tyrant is no exception—he's simply done a better job of hiding his weakness than most."
The captain's eyes swept across the assembled crowd once more, gauging their reactions, measuring their resolve. "The Nikyu Nikyu no Mi—the Paw-Paw Fruit—is one of the most versatile Devil Fruit abilities ever documented. In the right hands, it could transport our entire fleet across vast distances instantaneously. It could deflect attacks from entire Marine squadrons. It could even repel abstract concepts—pain, fatigue, memories themselves."
Murmurs began to rise from the crowd as the implications became clear. The Lord Buggy was essentially proposing to recruit a one-man strategic weapon, someone whose abilities could revolutionize their entire operation.
"But how do we even find him?" asked Cabaji, his tactical mind already working through the logistics. "The Warlords don't exactly advertise their locations."
The Lord Buggy's smile became almost predatory. "Leave that to me. I know exactly where Bartholomew Kuma will be in three days' time. And more importantly, I know exactly what will motivate him to listen to our proposal."
In the South Blue, far from the scheming of pirates and the movements of Marines, the Sorbet Kingdom drowsed under a blanket of evening shadows. It was a peaceful nation, known more for its confections than its politics, a place where the most pressing concerns were typically related to sugar harvests and trade routes.
In a modest church on the kingdom's outskirts, a different kind of sweetness filled the air. The building itself was unremarkable—weathered stone walls, simple wooden pews, stained glass windows that had seen better decades. But within its humble confines lived someone who represented the most precious thing in the world to one of the most feared men on the seas.
Bonney, though she was too young to understand the full weight of the name she bore, sat on a hospital bed that had been moved into the church's main sanctuary. At ten years old, she possessed the kind of irrepressible energy that made sitting still for medical examinations almost physically painful.
"Hold still, Miss Bonney," urged one of the medical technicians, a kind-faced woman whose gentle manner had made her a favorite among the church's younger residents. "We're almost finished with today's tests."
Bonney's legs swung back and forth from the edge of the bed, her pink hair catching the light from the stained glass windows. "When is Papa coming back?" she asked for what must have been the hundredth time that day. "He promised he'd take me sailing when the doctors said I was better."
The medical staff exchanged glances over the girl's head. They had been caring for Bonney for months now, treating a rare condition that required constant monitoring and specialized medication. Her father's visits had become increasingly infrequent, his absences explained away as "important business" that couldn't be delayed.
What none of them knew was that the girl's father had made a deal with the World Government—his freedom and his daughter's continued medical care in exchange for absolute obedience to their commands. Bartholomew Kuma had traded his soul to ensure his daughter's survival, becoming a living weapon in service to the very system he had once opposed as a Revolutionary.
And now, unknown to any of them, that terrible bargain was about to be tested in ways that none of them could have imagined.
As night settled fully over the Sorbet Kingdom, Bonney finally allowed herself to be tucked into bed, her dreams filled with images of sailing ships and adventures with the father she adored. She had no way of knowing that in less than seventy-two hours, her peaceful world would be shattered by the arrival of visitors who would change everything.
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