Warm Man

As a hand, it was much more convenient to get around.

Especially when it came to doing things that were better kept out of sight.

Buggy followed close behind the Secretary Gull.

He slipped silently through the towering crowd.

Inn Town probably didn't smell very nice.

Everywhere he looked, sailors who'd drunk themselves unconscious were sprawled in corners of the street, keeping company with their own vomit.

Good thing he didn't have a nose.

He felt a little relieved.

The Secretary Gull was bigger than an ordinary Newspaper Seagull, about the size of a Carue Duck from Alabasta.

Weaving through the crowd, he looked about the same size as a teenager selling newspapers.

He seemed quite alert, too. After running for a while, he would stop somewhere and scan the people coming and going along Inn Town.

There were brawny sailors with muscles like tree trunks.

Merchants who wore glasses and stopped to do a little calculating wherever they went.

And a few craftsmen with hammers and pliers hanging from their belts.

There weren't many pirates here.

This was where people waited for the ships they'd applied to the World Government to take across the Red Line.

Pirates wouldn't bother with that kind of application.

Of course, the World Government wouldn't approve one anyway.

Well, maybe a certain undercover pirate was an exception.

But there was actually a pretty pirate woman carrying a spiked mace.

She didn't seem to have much between the ears, though.

Nothing unusual.

The Secretary Gull pushed his glasses up out of habit, sure that there was nobody particularly conspicuous in the passing crowd.

Meanwhile.

Alvida was discussing with her crew how to rescue their eccentric captain, who had somehow dug a tunnel all the way to a Marine Secret Base, when she suddenly frowned.

She had the feeling someone was badmouthing her!

--

The Secretary Gull gave a quiet nod, then waited in the corner a little longer.

He changed into the outfit common to newspaper boys across the archipelago and slung a dusty gray mailbag over his shoulder.

When he stepped out of the corner again, he was a perfectly convincing newspaper boy from Inn Town.

The Newspaper Seagulls' main customers were people sailing the Great Sea and Branch Offices stationed on various islands.

In just a day, the hardworking Newspaper Seagulls could deliver the latest stories all around the world.

And the newspaper boys still had their place in the final mile.

What the Secretary Gull failed to notice was that—

Just as he confidently stepped out of the corner,

a strange hand that had been waiting for ages leaped over a barrel with a hundred-meter-hurdle stride and landed right in his dusty mailbag.

Buggy was once again glad he hadn't brought his nose along.

The mailbag abandoned in the corner had clearly gone unwashed for quite some time.

Disgusting.

Inn Town was close to Red Port in Area 60, an entrance guarded by the World Government on the edge of the archipelago.

After changing in the corner, the Secretary Gull turned around and ran back the way he'd come.

Then he stopped in front of an upscale hotel not far from the Branch Office.

He quickly made his way to the second floor and stopped outside the room farthest from the hallway.

He knocked softly twice, with a long pause in between.

As soon as the paper-covered door opened, he slipped inside.

"So, that Charles fellow didn't dare object, did he?"

Morgans casually asked as he adjusted his bow tie, whose feathers were slightly caught beneath it.

"How could he dare?"

The Secretary Gull took off his newsboy cap and put his gold-rimmed glasses back on.

"But, Lord Morgans, do we really need to be this cautious?"

The Secretary Gull didn't like this outfit. It did nothing to distinguish him from the rest of his kind.

In his eyes, Morgans controlled the world's largest newspaper business and information network. He was one of the Six Emperors of the Underworld. Why did he have to act so timidly?

"You don't understand!"

"A proper journalist can gather much more explosive Big News when people don't know who he is!"

Morgans's huge beak looked especially sharp whenever he spoke at length.

He looked like an albatross with white feathers and small eyes.

He also wore a blue shirt and a Black Cloak.

With a Top Hat tucked beneath his wing, its Red and White Feather stuck in the band, he looked like an aristocratic politician giving a speech at some convention.

His wings flapped.

"Besides, the Marines and the World Government would love to capture me outright rather than negotiate with the Newspaper Agency."

"I have a feeling that even the headquarters isn't very safe anymore."

"I can't wait to witness the Great War firsthand. I don't want those guys to catch me before I get there."

"What did the journalist who provided us with the photos ask for? I'm quite interested in the Marine Major behind him!"

"Everyone on Sabaody Archipelago considers him a hero now!"

"It'd be even better if we could interview him."

"But the Marines don't like him." The Secretary Gull shook his head, feeling sorry for someone so reckless.

"But the journalist who took the photos of the Human Auction House Incident did make an interesting request."

He then relayed Arne's request.

"Add a screen to the Execution Platform?"

"What an interesting idea. I'll get in touch with the Marines."

"Then, thank you for that."

Morgans shook his head. "No need to thank me. It's not too much to ask."

Then he frowned.

His sharp gaze fixed on the Secretary Gull. "What are you thanking me for?"

"Me?"

"Not him."

A hand landed on Morgans's shoulder.

"Weren't you looking to discuss an interview with me? Well, here I am."

"Gah!"

Morgans's feathers stood on end, and he let out a shriek.

A hand!

A hand with eyes, a mouth, and ears!

And it was clinging to his shoulder!

How bizarre was that?!

It took Morgans a moment to calm down.

Though that might have been because his attempts to shake Buggy off had all failed.

"What do you want?!"

He was already wondering whether to settle this with gunfire, but the hand was a little too close to his neck.

"Well, before I answer that, I think it'd be best to help you two calm down."

Buggy was considerate enough to say.

According to the college student Joker's memories, he was supposed to be a thoughtful, attentive Warm Man with great people skills, wasn't he?

The Warm Man peeled back the skin on his hand, revealing an even more heartwarming assortment of explosives.

Since his separated body parts could move freely and even float as if they'd never been detached, Buggy wasn't going to bring along a bunch of useless Flesh and Blood.

He'd brought what both the original Buggy and the Joker from Arkham had been good at.

Explosives.

"How about that? Something this warm and adorable is always enough to make people see reason," the hand said, sounding a little overexcited.

Gulp.

Morgans swallowed involuntarily.

Now it wasn't just his neck. He felt as if his head was in mortal danger, too.

But he had to admit, this thing really could make a person calm down fast.