Let's Play a Game

Beep--

Beep--

The urgent whistle suddenly shattered the deep night silence.

"Gunshots, there are gunshots on the lower deck!"

"Emergency! Emergency!"

The quiet warship quickly awoke as the urgent whistle sounded, and the lights on the bridge pierced the darkness.

Brigadier General Brownie, who had been sleeping soundly, silently crawled out of bed. He picked up the saber placed by his bedside, his stern face filled with displeasure.

The officer who disturbed his sleep was pale with fright. "Reporting, Your Excellency, Brigadier General, there were gunshots from the prisoner level."

"Have you found out who fired the shots?"

"Uh... the passage to the lower levels is blocked, and a lot of munitions are missing. It's an emergency, Brigadier General!"

Brownie was silent for a moment. Full of morning anger, he wanted to scold his subordinate, but he also understood that such an outburst would be useless.

He stood up solemnly. His nearly two-meter height was still somewhat imposing.

"Since we don't know who did it, let's kill half of the scum on the bottom floor first."

"To mourn my precious sleep time!"

Brownie had already had many complaints about the process of escorting prisoners.

In his opinion, the best way to deal with these heinous pirates was direct execution.

"Three seconds reaction time..." Buggy tapped his fingers, calculating the time from the gunshots to the navy's reaction.

It was acceptable.

Of course, reaction was one thing, but it might take another ten minutes to send someone to investigate the situation, especially since he had left quite a few gifts.

The exterior of the warship was made of steel, but the interior still followed the layout of a large wooden sailing ship. The main deck was divided into four levels from top to bottom. The second deck was the resting and living quarters for the marines.

The third deck was the cargo area. Buggy, Arne, and Musa were also thrown into this area, perhaps because these three were too weak, or because there wasn't enough space on the lower levels.

The fourth deck, which was the bottom deck, was the space from the deck to the bottom of the ship, the hull. It was the most confined area.

The vast majority of the prisoners to be escorted were housed in this area.

Buggy stood barefoot on the damp wooden planks, his left shoulder empty, a pistol in his right hand.

From time to time, he pressed the barrel of the gun against his cheek.

The residual warmth dissipated quickly.

His footsteps were unhurried.

Patta--

Patta--

In the claustrophobic lower decks, these footsteps felt like they were treading on the hearts of all the criminals.

Arne, on the other hand, was anxious.

Damn it, that lunatic fired three shots, and the entire Warship knows there's trouble with the prisoners below! How could he not be anxious?!

But as he truly entered the lower cabins, his posture became hunched like a quail.

The metal cages before him varied in size.

The large ones were four to five meters high, almost reaching the deck, while the smaller ones were about two meters, similar to the cage Arne had been in previously.

Scattered, dim cold lights could only illuminate the vague outlines of the prisoners in the cages, their shadows stretching long.

And there were countless pairs of greedy eyes.

It felt like being surrounded by a pack of terrifying wolves in the dark night.

Behind him, hurried footsteps, shouts, and the clanging of swords and spears being readied... traveled through several decks to Arne's ears.

In front were ferocious, defiant wolves; behind was a fire that would burn people alive.

Arne's heart was pounding in his throat.

"Hehehe..."

Fortunately, the lunatic's laughter could still be heard.

Arne actually found a sliver of reassurance in that laughter.

Next, as long as we release all these prisoners, we can fight against the navy outside, right?

They should naturally be on our side, right?

"Hehehe, a lost little pet has come looking for milk!"

From somewhere in the darkness, a teasing voice called out.

"If you want milk, you'll have to beg on your knees!"

"Otherwise, this little pet will be taken out and shot!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Little pet, as long as you obediently open this cage for me, and kiss my toes, I'll help you deal with the marines behind you."

From the darkness, a two-meter-tall figure shouted with a voice laced with teasing and a hint of urgency:

"You know, I'm a pirate with a bounty of 100 million!"

"Hahahaha, Joseph, who doesn't know how much of that 100 million bounty is water?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the other prisoners unhesitatingly exposed him.

Various sarcastic voices shattered Arne's illusions.

Everyone locked up here were pirates.

A rare profession, one that was enthusiastic about devouring its own.

"It's over, it's over..."

Arne's lips trembled. If these prisoners refused to act, how could the two of them possibly fight the marines outside?

And as the source of the commotion, the two of them might very well be hung on the ship's sails to dry!

"Ah... ah..., a lost little pet, what a great joke, much better than the one I just thought of."

Neither the mocking and malicious gazes, nor the urgent situation outside, seemed to affect Buggy's good mood at all.

He casually sat down.

His right hand, holding a pistol, fired several shots towards the direction of the loudest voice.

"Unfortunately, I don't like jokes told by others to be better than mine."

There was no change in Buggy's eyes, as if the person he shot was just an annoying mosquito.

The prisoners' laughter came to an abrupt halt.

The little pet seeking comfort suddenly pulled out something deadly, which wasn't cute at all.

But were these two really not afraid of the marines behind them?

If they didn't rely on them, if they didn't borrow their strength, how could they fight the marines behind them!

The reason these prisoners dared to mock so freely was essentially their arrogance born from being pampered. They heard the gunshots, they heard the sound of marines gathering, and they saw Arne's timid appearance.

But the current situation seemed a little different.

Buggy smiled sweetly, seemingly displeased with the atmosphere:

"Why, why so serious?"

"How about we play a game!"

"Hmm... how do we play?"

He stroked his chin, "How about this, before the Marines arrive, we each come up with a nickname for each other?"

"For example, next to me, Arne, my nickname for him is..."

"Candidate Navigator of the Batty Little Cutie Pirate Crew... Mister!"

Buggy smacked his lips, his smile fading, "Alright, now it's your turn."

"Come up with a nickname for me."

"Aren't you afraid?" a prisoner questioned from the darkness.

"If it weren't for us, you'd be dead for sure!"

"No, no, no." Buggy waved his hand, licking his lips, "Not me, us."

Buggy took out a Musket from the sack again, wiped it, and aimed it vaguely at the prisoners, full of threat.

These prisoners, locked in cages, were no different from targets, regardless of their bounty outside.

"Hehehe..."

"An extra reminder, the penalty for the game is, whoever thinks of a name last, dies first."

"Or, if everyone can't think of one, then everyone dies together."

"How about it, fun, right?"