Us

The Baron's phone call had done the trick.

At least, the next day, Buggy moved out of the rather monotonous Marine Sanatorium.

His Excellency Baron had handed him a property in Area 36, supposedly a fairly sizable estate.

Hmm, I wonder how it compares to Gotham City's Richest?

Buggy quickly took that thought back.

Calling the building in front of him an estate was probably a bit of a stretch.

A somewhat large villa?

That was a more accurate description.

The exterior was a little run-down, with many of the red tiles on the three-story roof missing. The slanting orange sunlight made it look rather forlorn.

It wasn't far from Soap Bubble Park, and he could still see crowds streaming back and forth in the distance.

Fortunately, Buggy wasn't picky.

Besides, he figured he probably wouldn't stay long.

A gravel path no more than four meters long connected the front gate to the steps leading up to the house.

The furniture inside wasn't too old. At least the doorknobs were still gleaming.

It was pretty bizarre, actually.

As Buggy walked into the house that technically belonged to him, he felt a distinct flutter in his chest.

So he split his chest open and held it up in front of him.

He studied it closely.

It was rejoicing, elated at owning such a property.

That wasn't a reaction he should be having.

Buggy's bare feet pressed into the soft carpet. He simply took off his shoes, wanting to see how he would react.

His heart wasn't beating any faster.

But as he passed a Gold Ornament, it suddenly began to race.

It was a gold plate mixed with a little Silver Copper.

It was just a plate, too.

Buggy felt that his nerves hadn't been stirred, but the flutter in his heart was unmistakable.

Gold.

A whole host of images suddenly sprang into his mind.

He was in a dark cave, discovering a trove of treasure so vast it lit up everything around him. He was right in the middle of all those riches!

Another image came to him.

He had returned to his hometown in the countryside and used the money from selling gold to build his family a bright, three-story mansion. His grandmother, who was always sighing, was overjoyed.

Then he called back all the friends he'd grown up with.

They ate and drank together.

Those friends...

Another memory suddenly surfaced in Buggy's mind: he and a Red-haired Kid, weaving through a crowd of adults with cups in their hands.

A man with a curled mustache watched the two of them, laughing merrily.

There was also a middle-aged man with round glasses who looked rather refined.

Back then,

He could feel how happy he'd been.

"Maybe I've neglected you for too long," he murmured.

Sunlight filtered through the intricate Enamel Glass, lighting one half of his face while leaving the other in shadow.

One half was filled with greedy delight; the other was utterly cold.

"Sir!"

The gray-haired butler had just come in from outside.

There were bits of grass and leaves on him. The small patch of lawn outside hadn't been tended in ages, so he'd just finished trimming it.

The room wasn't very bright. He could only make out half the man's face and the conspicuous Marine Uniform.

But that was enough to confirm this was his employer.

"There's a guest looking for you outside," he said softly, not coming any closer.

Until he knew what his new master was like, being courteous and polite was the best approach.

"All right. Thanks for your hard work."

Buggy turned around with a mild smile on his face, and his chest had somehow returned to normal.

No one would have thought he was a pirate or a lunatic fresh out of a mental hospital.

The old butler even felt he'd found himself a decent new master.

Outside.

Arne clutched a camera, hesitating.

"S-sir." He still found the title a little awkward.

"The News Agency agreed to take me on as a freelance reporter." His smile nevertheless radiated delight.

After all, not long ago he'd been prepared to sell himself as a slave and give up his dignity. Becoming a reporter was pretty good by comparison.

What surprised him even more was that the Branch Office director who interviewed him—a man with a sharp, rat-like face—hadn't looked down on him when he heard about his pirate past. On the contrary, he'd looked thrilled.

A pirate? That's great!

The pirate Supernovas of Sabaody Archipelago were our biggest news story of the year!

He still remembered the look on the Branch Office director's face as he said that.

Pirates who dreamed of becoming swordsmen, cooks, or navigators were common enough. But a pirate who dreamed of becoming a reporter? That was rare!

Even Buggy was a little surprised.

He'd already prepared to have Jacques grease a few palms.

"Good," he said softly.

Arne found Buggy's gentle manner a little strange.

How to put it...

The old Buggy had felt like a sharp, jagged thorn.

Now that thorn seemed somehow softer.

It was an illusion!

Arne shook his head. He wouldn't be surprised if other people changed, but this clown...

Impossible. Absolutely impossible!

"But the Branch Office also gave me an assignment."

"The Heart Pirates, one of the Supernovas, are currently active in Area 30. They want me to interview them."

Area 1.

Scattered neon bubbles drifted around the towering red trees.

Their winding roots, like veins of stone, crisscrossed over the sea to form flat expanses resembling islands.

The Human Auction House stood in a clearing about the size of a plaza, surrounded by several red trees.

It was a cluster of tall, semicircular buildings.

On the second floor of the auction house, a meeting of its senior staff was underway.

"Are we really going to let that kid get a piece of the pie?"

Diouf made no effort to hide his presence. His white Marine Uniform stood out starkly in the dimly lit auction house.

The purple-haired man in a top hat at the head of the table chuckled.

"Heh. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Having Lux's illegitimate son join our ranks would deal a major blow to his family's business, wouldn't it?"

"Besides, the resources that kid can get his hands on are exactly what we need."

"What do we need so many pirate slaves for?" another man in a suit said disdainfully.

Pirate slaves took much longer to break in than ordinary slaves.

"As long as our distinguished guest is pleased," the purple-haired man retorted coolly.

"His Excellency may not agree with your plan."

"You know that the auction house's profits are decent by the standards of the archipelago, but they're only a drop in the bucket compared to Lord's Other Industries."

"That's exactly why we need to be more ambitious!"

The purple-haired man looked deeply frustrated.

"Once we take over the auction house in Area 4, we'll get more pirate slaves!"

"Then we can win that lord's favor! Do you understand?!"

"I have another way." Diouf tapped the long table in front of him to make his point.

"If Auction House 4 has no channel for supplying pirate slaves, wouldn't that achieve the same thing?"