"Ram straight into it! Hahahahaha!"
Buggy looked delighted, his eyes fixed on the summit of the Red Line.
He was impatient and terribly restless.
He could not wait even a day or two. All he wanted was to stir up more and bigger spectacles to fill the hole in his heart, where the wind kept whistling through.
Hawkins remained composed, already accustomed to Joker's orders. Vander Decken IX, however, was especially nervous.
"No, you can't do this!"
After years of hanging from the bow, exposed to wind, sun, and rain, Vander Decken had grown dark and scrawny, like a dried-out rat.
But at Joker's words, his listless eyes suddenly widened.
The Ark flew by relying on his power. The Target-Target Fruit kept the ship constantly pursuing him. If it was going to crash into the continent, didn't that mean he had to hit it first?
He would slam into the continent, followed by the island-sized Ark...
Caught between a continent and an island, what chance did he have?
He would be turned into fish paste, wouldn't he?
No, there wouldn't even be any fish paste left!
"I've done my part for the gang! You can't treat me like this!"
The tiger shark Fish-Man struggled desperately. "I'm useful! I still have something to offer, Lord Joker!"
Only two utterly indifferent faces answered him.
"Fate will decide whether you live or die." Hawkins drew a card from his sleeve and placed it on Vander Decken's forehead.
Then he seized his flailing limbs and pinned them with a peculiar kind of nail.
"My only job is to deliver you to fate's crossroads."
The nails in his hands were unusual, wrapped in strips of straw as though some spell had been cast on them. No blood seeped out when they pierced Vander Decken's hands