The Marine battleship Issho descended slowly, the invisible pressure supporting it easing until its hull kissed the surface of the sea.
Waves rolled outward in widening rings.
Rob Lucci stood at the front of the Marine formation, his gaze locked on the figure seated upon the Wax Throne.
"We have agreed to your conditions," Lucci said coldly. "Explain this 'clown game' of yours."
Buggy leaned back slightly, one leg crossing over the other. The crimson cloak shifted in the wind behind him.
"Don't rush," he replied lazily. "It begins now."
He crooked a finger.
A News Coo flapped forward, lens glinting as it focused directly on his face.
Across the seas, screens flickered.
Taverns. Marine bases. Revolutionary hideouts. Pirate ships cutting through distant waters.
The world watched.
Inside his chest, Lock felt the steady circulation of magnetic force. It hummed quietly beneath his skin, an unseen engine reinforcing his nerves and sharpening his mind.
Power was not meant to be hidden.
Not now.
"Hello," Buggy began, voice amplified across the world. "Some of you may remember me from the Paramount War. Allow me to reintroduce myself."
He smiled.
"I am Buggy. Former Warlord of the Sea. Current Emperor of the New World."
A murmur rippled through distant crowds.
"As you can see," he continued, gesturing lazily behind him, "I encountered a very… distinguished guest."
Mr. 3 shoved Rosward Saint forward.
The Celestial Dragon stumbled, trembling.
Buggy's tone remained conversational.
"The World Nobles. The Celestial Dragons. Every year, kingdoms hand over vast tributes to them. And yet most of you will never see their faces. After all, they consider the air you breathe unclean."
He stepped forward suddenly and kicked Rosward's leg out from under him.
The Celestial Dragon collapsed.
Buggy's boot came down on his head.
Across the world, jaws dropped.
Lucci's muscles tensed.
"Buggy—"
The blade flashed.
A sharp metallic sound rang out as Buggy drove his sword cleanly through Rosward's palm, pinning it to the deck.
A shriek tore across the ocean.
Lucci stopped mid-step.
Buggy glanced at him with mild curiosity.
"Careful," he said. "Every time you move, he seems to get hurt."
Rosward writhed, sobbing, unable to lift his head beneath Buggy's foot.
At Marine Headquarters, officers stared at their screens in stunned silence.
Rear Admiral Hina exhaled smoke slowly.
"…He's insane."
Nearby, Smoker watched without speaking.
He remembered arresting this man once—dragging him away like a nuisance.
Now that same pirate stood atop a global stage.
How had it come to this?
On screen, Buggy resumed speaking.
"Before I had the pleasure of entertaining our noble guest," he said lightly, "the Marines arrived."
He gestured.
The News Coo shifted its lens.
Admiral Fujitora filled the frame.
His expression was grave.
"This is Admiral Fujitora Issho," Buggy continued. "A man who claims justice guides his blade."
He pressed his foot down harder.
Rosward whimpered.
"According to him, even if this noble commits atrocities," Buggy said, "he must be returned. Because if he dies… the Celestial Dragons might destroy an entire nation in retaliation."
A wave of uneasy murmurs swept through distant audiences.
Fujitora's voice carried evenly.
"If harm befalls him, many innocent people will suffer. That is reality."
Buggy tilted his head.
"So you would preserve one devil," he asked, "to protect many innocents."
Silence.
"Turn a blind eye to those in power," Buggy went on, "allow a few to suffer so the majority may sleep peacefully."
His smile sharpened.
"Is that your justice?"
Fujitora lowered his head slightly.
"This old man is imperfect," he said. "I can only preserve what little justice I am capable of."
The sea grew still.
Then Buggy spoke again.
"Very well."
His tone shifted—calmer.
"Let's test it."
He pointed toward the Marine battleship.
"If sacrifices must be made… let us begin with those closest to you."
A faint current crackled in the air.
"Kill every Marine aboard your ship," Buggy said clearly, "and I will return Rosward Saint."
The words struck like cannon fire.
For a heartbeat, the world did not react.
Then chaos erupted.
The ocean roared as Fujitora's power surged unconsciously.
Gravity intensified.
The surface of the sea buckled and churned, waves rising violently as if pressed by an invisible palm.
On Marineford, Fleet Admiral Sakazuki's office erupted in molten heat.
The floor cracked under his fury.
"I'll kill him," Akainu growled, magma dripping from his fists.
Before he could take a step, Vice Admiral Tsuru stood in his path.
"Fleet Admiral," she said calmly, "regulations forbid you from leaving Marineford lightly."
"Regulations?" Sakazuki snarled.
"The protection of Mary Geoise takes priority," Tsuru replied. "You know that."
Sakazuki's jaw tightened.
"Sengoku and Garp remain here," he argued.
"Do you think the Celestial Dragons trust Garp?" Tsuru asked dryly. "The Revolutionary Army, led by his son, kidnapped Rosward Saint."
Sakazuki's silence burned hotter than his magma.
On the Den Den Mushi beside them, Buggy's voice echoed.
"Surrendering a handful of Marines for a Celestial Dragon. A profitable exchange, wouldn't you say?"
The camera returned to the deck.
Buggy's cloak rippled behind him as he spoke.
"This is not the first time Marines have compromised for convenience."
He glanced toward Fujitora.
"Former Admiral Zephyr. His family was murdered. His students were slaughtered."
A stir moved through Marine ranks worldwide.
"And yet the pirate responsible was later recruited as a Warlord."
Fujitora's grip tightened on his cane sword.
"That system was wrong," he said firmly. "Which is why I sought its abolition."
"Too late for Zephyr," Buggy replied softly.
The wind howled across the sea.
"A teacher who watched his students die. Forced to work alongside their killer."
Buggy's gaze sharpened.
"And when his grief consumed him, who struck him down?"
Silence.
Fujitora did not answer.
"If that were your family," Buggy pressed, "your comrades. Would you let go?"
Gravity trembled again.
Fujitora lifted his head slowly.
"Obsession led him astray."
Buggy laughed—low, cold.
"Easy words."
He pressed his sword deeper into Rosward's pinned hand.
A scream tore through the broadcast.
"The choice remains simple," Buggy said.
"Kill your men."
"Or admit your justice has limits."
The ocean held its breath.
Across the world, countless eyes fixed on the blind Admiral.
And on the Clown who dared demand an answer.
---
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