The wind on Sabaody Archipelago was always especially enchanting.
After blowing past countless neon bubbles, it seemed the wind itself carried a dreamy scent.
Of course, it might also have been the alluring fragrance left behind by the sweet-smiling angel in white who had just left.
Buggy lay on the familiar hospital bed.
He took a sip of sweet-smelling coffee.
Compared with the wounds on most of the Marines aboard the transport ship, the one on his cheek was practically nothing.
Then he unfolded the brand-new newspaper in his hands.
Well, it had been nearly twenty days since he left the transport ship.
For once, he hadn't caused any trouble during that time.
If the police in Gotham City knew, they'd probably give him an award for being a model citizen.
That was truly rare.
Most of the time, Buggy thought he was a very reasonable man.
He'd been just as reasonable during the Marines' follow-up investigation.
The benefit of behaving reasonably was that, before long, he'd received a month of paid leave and the private hospital room he now occupied.
As if they knew who he was.
The first Bounty Poster enclosed with the newspaper was his own.
A red-nosed clown, wearing a black-and-white striped prison uniform, with a scraggly beard, holding up a sign.
His expression was one of forced composure.
It had been taken when he was captured.
His bounty was...
Two hundred million Beli.
Not a small amount.
Our young protagonist, Straw Hat Kid, had a bounty of only one hundred million Beli at the moment. Buggy had seen a report about the Judicial Island incident in the newspaper not long ago.
So was he still in Water Seven, or had he already come to Sabaody Archipelago?
Buggy made a rough guess, but didn't give it much thought.
He wasn't interested in the protagonist's crew.
Hot-blooded bonds and all that? Not his thing at all.
Aside from his own moment in the spotlight, the other reports were about the eleven Supernovas who had gradually made names for themselves over the past year.
Eustass Kid, a brash man from South Blue; the man known as the "Death Surgeon," Luo; and Hawkins, captain of the Hawkins Pirates.
The newspapers distributed around the world openly published accounts of criminals' deeds.
Even Bounty Posters, which should have been nooses around their necks, had become a way for pirates to compare and compete with one another.
The Marines and World Government, who seemed to represent justice, were more like an iceberg floating on the sea. They kept their unfathomable darkness hidden beneath the waves, showing only a pristine and polished surface.
And they even printed the word "Justice" on it.
The entire blue world was like a magnified version of Gotham City.
But it was precisely this kind of world that made Buggy look forward to what lay ahead.
Chaos was beautiful, too.
A cryptic smile crept onto his face.
Even the young nurse pushing a cart past him couldn't help blushing.
Sergeant Jacques's gaze followed the nurse as she walked away.
He wanted to be a little more restrained, but aboard a warship, he was surrounded by muscle-bound men all day.
A single voyage often meant months without seeing a woman.
But if he could get in good with Major Arrow, things should improve, right?
"Lord Arrow, the person you wanted has been brought to the port district."
"Well done, Sergeant Jacques."
Buggy put away the newspaper and replied with a smile.
Arrow hadn't had many connections among the Marines before, but Buggy wasn't in a hurry to approach those people.
Sergeant Jacques, formerly one of Brownie's subordinates, was a better fit.
He'd been a middling officer in his old unit, never trusted with much, yet he'd longed for a change—or, more precisely, a chance to move up.
When Buggy, a major with powerful backing, appeared before him, Jacques naturally gravitated toward him.
At this stage, he was a reasonably useful Tool Person for Buggy.
Another point in Jacques's favor was that he understood how things stood.
Sabaody Archipelago was clustered around the roots of the Giant Mangrove, forming as many as seventy-nine districts.
The Marines were stationed in District 66.
It had a medium-sized port capable of accommodating several ships.
There were also warehouses where cargo could be stored temporarily.
The warehouse was damp, with wooden crates piled haphazardly about. Scattered around them was plenty of dry straw, left over from previous cargo—or perhaps there simply for decoration.
In the corner, a few cigarette butts had been trampled askew.
It was the kind of place that would send even a construction-site safety inspector running for the hills.
A pungent stink of bodily waste mixed with the smell of fish.
Clearly, the cargo stored here included living creatures.
Buggy wanted to detach his nose and toss it outside.
But Sergeant Jacques was beside him, convinced he'd gotten in good with someone powerful.
Buggy figured it was better to keep up the appearance of being reasonable.
Of course, if he couldn't keep it up, there was nothing he could do.
After all, the only sensible way to live in this world was to have no rules.
If the attending doctor at Arkham Asylum saw him, he'd probably reassess the clown's condition.
At the very least, Buggy might be moved from a private room where his movements were restricted to a shared ward where he could get some time out of bed.
Their clean leather boots crunched softly on the dry straw.
Before long, they stopped before a rust-covered iron cage.
Inside it, Arne managed to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was a pair of leather boots.
"Cough, cough..." He breathed carefully. The warehouse's pungent smell made him shudder.
So badly that he thought becoming some noble's slave might not be so bad after all.
The damp cold made his forehead feel as if someone had placed a branding iron against it.
His abdomen, which had only been given rudimentary treatment, throbbed with pain every time he breathed.
In the face of survival,
dignity was worth nothing.
"My dear Navigator Candidate."
"Why not welcome your captain?"
Buggy crouched down and met Arne's gaze, his tone tinged with mockery. "You should know that I've always kept my promises."
Candidate...
Sir?
Arne tried to lift his gaze, but for some reason, his vision clouded over.
The young Marine officer before him looked just like that mad clown.
Even the mocking tone was exactly the same.
"C-Captain!"
"...Captain?"
Sergeant Jacques's voice trembled.
Why was this pirate prisoner calling Major Arrow his captain?
Why had Major Arrow gone out of his way to buy this prisoner?
Why?
Suddenly, Jacques remembered the major he'd seen when the warship exploded.
The strips of flesh that had suddenly peeled away from his face.
A terrifying suspicion surfaced in his mind.
His legs trembled uncontrollably.
Jacques desperately tried to make them carry him away at a run.
That was right—the base was close to the warehouse, and the base commander was Rear Admiral Sicily. He had to report this.
He had to report it!
But no matter how hard he tried, his legs wouldn't move.
It was as if a pair of hands had grabbed them tightly.
Jacques looked down.
There really was a pair of hands clutching his feet.
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