The Joker

"Ha..."

"Cough! Cough!"

"Ha... Hahahaha!"

Three sturdy-looking cages stood side by side in the damp and gloomy cabin, each holding a prisoner.

One was curled up in a corner of his cage. The man in the middle sat slumped, his face full of gloom.

The third lay on a metal plate, hunched over, yet kept twitching as he forced out bursts of eager, joyful laughter.

How could he not laugh?

Buggy turned his head. Moonlight coming through the round window fell right across his face.

A bone-shaped X was painted on his forehead. His red nose stood out, his lips were painted bright red, and stubble covered his chin.

He hooked the corners of his mouth up with both index fingers and laughed in fits and starts.

"Ha... Ha..."

He was so happy!

How could something so interesting, so wondrous, have happened?

It was unbelievably delightful!

Buggy pressed his face to the floor and squirmed. There were three people in his head now.

One was a college student who worked part-time as a clown at an amusement park, trying his best to make the children in front of him laugh.

A child frowned, thinking the grown-up was acting like a fool.

One was a patient at Arkham Asylum. The patient called himself Jack, though the outside world preferred to call him the Joker.

In his memories, Jack was standing before a mirror, straightening his tie and struggling to force a smile onto a face utterly ravaged by chemicals.

A radio nearby was broadcasting news of a terrorist attack on a bank in Gotham City.

And one was the famous Clown Buggy of the Grand Line.

The Clown Emperor!

The original owner of this body.

He'd been out treasure hunting with his men when he'd accidentally stumbled into a secret Marine base. There, he'd seen some children who looked familiar and a fat man carrying a Great Axe.

Then he'd been arrested on the spot.

The three sets of memories were like filling being kneaded together: two parts Buggy, five parts Jack, and three parts college student.

They blended together, stirred hard in one direction.

Then they were pounded with all their strength.

Until the three had been kneaded into one, with a sticky, cohesive texture.

How wondrous and delightful!

Buggy's heart brimmed with a fullness he couldn't describe.

It was like the first time the Joker had seen that grotesque, contradictory leather-clad fellow in the newspaper, the one he found so fascinating.

Or like the first time the college student had used his part-time wages to treat himself to a Big Mac Meal at the Golden Arches.

He'd lost the fun of one city, then gained the fun of a whole world.

Wonderful.

"Shut your damn mouth, you piece of trash!"

The gloomy man raised his head, revealing a vicious expression.

In the oppressive, gloomy cabin, that cheerful laughter was grating.

If his hands and feet weren't shackled, and he weren't locked alone in a cage like one for slaves, he swore he'd grab that Red Nose and use him as bait for a Sea King!

"Sorry, hahaha, sorry..."

"I just can't help it!"

Buggy sat up, waved a hand, wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, and apologized with complete sincerity—if not for the grin plastered across his face.

"Just thinking that we're about to go to Impel Down makes me want to laugh!"

"Aren't you excited? The prison no one has ever escaped from! The first level, the second, the third..."

He pointed a few times at the gloomy man in the next cage and the other man huddled in the shadowy corner, his face impossible to make out, as if assigning them to prison cells.

"The Crimson Hell, with its vast Sword Tree Forest whose leaves are like blades; the Beast Hell, teeming with venomous snakes and wild beasts; the Hunger Hell, blazing hot, with no water or food..."

Buggy described the scenes in the hells with exaggerated enthusiasm.

His incessant chatter made the gloomy man's expression turn even worse. His trembling arms tugged at his iron shackles, making them clink.

Impel Down—the absolute nightmare of every pirate who sailed these seas!

Its endless torment and seemingly inescapable security filled them with dread!

And they were aboard a transport ship bound for Impel Down.

They were all prisoners being transported there.

"Stop... Stop talking!"

"I said stop talking!"

Behind the gloomy man's fierce expression was sheer terror.

Being in hell was torment. But slowly sinking toward hell, waiting in silence for the blade to fall on your neck—that was an agony that gnawed at your heart.

"Oh? You're scared?"

Buggy tilted his head, smiling warmly.

He was good at reading people.

All bluster, putting on a brooding, ruthless front despite being terrified. There were faint stitching marks on the arm with the cross tattoo, and his expression had subtly shifted when he raised it.

That guy was definitely hiding something.

Something that could be concealed under the skin and go unnoticed was most likely a flat, sharp object...

If the other man's arms hadn't been trembling nonstop from fear, Buggy might not have noticed.

Looks like I'm in luck.

Buggy narrowed his eyes as one idea after another popped into his head.

In such an interesting world, wouldn't it be dreadfully dull to stay cooped up in a cage, follow the story he remembered, get locked away in Impel Down, and then wait until some hot-blooded kid showed up and caused a ruckus before he could get out?

How predictable.

That would be a terrible waste of the miraculous change that had happened to him!

He thought for a moment, then suddenly lunged toward the edge of his cage. His face twisted into a menacing scowl as he shouted at the gloomy man in a sharp, cutting tone:

"If you know you're scared, if you don't want to go to hell, then hand over the thing you've hidden in your arm!"

"You don't want the guards finding out you're hiding something, do you, my dear cellmate?"

Buggy knew just how to intimidate people like him.

There were plenty of punks like that in Gotham City, a place with simple, honest customs.

All you had to do was use one word after another as a hook, reel in the fear they couldn't suppress, tear down their facade, then add a sudden, direct scolding...

"H-How did you know?!"

The gloomy man's eyes widened, his palms slick with cold sweat.

His right arm had once suffered a serious knife wound, leaving a conspicuous scar. Later, on a whim, he'd used a tattoo to disguise it and hidden a sharp blade fragment inside.

His last line of defense.

Just as expected...

Buggy's grin grew brighter. He narrowed his eyes and even instinctively stuck out his tongue to lick the corner of his mouth.

Without the chemical burns and knife wounds that had left it raw, he still wasn't used to his face.

"Take it out and give it to me, or I'll have the Marines shoot you right now."

"We both know this thing won't do you any good now, or once you're inside Impel Down. Otherwise, you wouldn't have kept it this long..."

"Right?"

Buggy's words were like a devil's whisper, one after another wearing down the gloomy man's resistance.

A blade fragment wouldn't be much use in the legendary Impel Down, let alone aboard the warship they were on now.

And there was a hint of menace hidden in every word the other man said...

He lowered his head, preparing to tear open the wound with his teeth.

"Bounty: Fifty-Seven Million Belly. The pirate Musah the Vicious Dog."

"Heh. The Marines really underestimated you."

The prisoner who'd been huddled in the corner suddenly spoke.

He slowly turned around, letting the moonlight reveal his face.

"M-Musah the Vicious Dog, with a bounty of fifty-seven million Belly!"

Musa raised his head, a faint smile on his scarred face.

"That's me!"

"So you should know who you ought to give that thing to."

"I'm the one with a chance of getting you out of here... the great pirate!"

His smile grew more and more brazen.

Musa spoke with confidence, but deep down, he had no hope of escaping.

His hands were locked in Seastone Handcuffs, the all-metal cage was sealed tight, and he was aboard a Marine warship with a Commodore escorting them in person.

How could they escape?

Buggy and Arne's behavior had simply amused him.

What he found a little strange was that a pirate with a bounty of fifteen million Belly had somehow qualified to be locked up alongside him, the great Musah the Vicious Dog.

The Marines must have had nothing better to do.

As for whatever the other pirate might be hiding...

That sort of thing was common among pirates.

At most, someone might sneak in a piece of wire or a blade. What good would that be?

Still, reporting it might earn him a decent meal!

Newbie coming through!! Everybody move!!