"Damn scums!"
Commodore Brownie spat, his disdain for this ragtag group of pirates evident, even tinged with anger.
He was furious that these scoundrels dared to defy him, to crawl out of their dog cages with such audacity.
But that was fine. When Chief Warden Magellan-san asked him about it later, he would have a solid reason to report.
In his mind, Brownie quietly raised his goal from killing half of the enemies to two-thirds.
They were just a bunch of pirate scum anyway—no one would mourn their deaths.
"Don't let any scum escape!"
He shouted.
Well-trained Marines poured in from the passage behind Brownie and formed a square formation facing the prisoners.
The pitch-black muzzles of their guns were pointed directly at Buggy and the others, causing a shudder to ripple through the group. At least in the first half of the Grand Line, such musket formations still carried tremendous deterrence. Some prisoners even began to waver.
The Marines coldly blocked the passage to the upper deck, cutting off any hope of survival for the prisoners. Each step forward squeezed the narrow space the prisoners had painfully clawed out to move in.
Magellan-san might tolerate pirates dying if they rebelled during transport—but he would never accept an escape.
That was exactly what Buggy wanted to see.
He lowered his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he eyed the pirates with a mixture of expressions from the corner of his eyes...
Greed, cruelty, cunning—these were the staples of pirate life.
Or, to put it in a more romantic light, adventure.
In short, it was raw animality.
The animalistic nature forged by facing the chaotic seas and a life filled with constant peril.
Buggy's strategy was to awaken that bestial nature within these jackals, to leave them no choice but to fight to the death!
Survival and hatred were the ultimate catalysts.
"Fire!"
Brownie's face hardened, and without hesitation, he gave the order to shoot.
He cared nothing for the pirates' thoughts.
BOOM—
The sharp smell of gunpowder filled the cabin as blood splattered, seeping through flesh and skin. From the smoke, a burly figure charged forward, his rock-hard arm raised like a battering ram.
"I'd rather die than rot in that prison, enslaved by those scum!"
Habler's roar drowned out the gunfire as he lunged boldly toward the Marines' formation.
Habler and the others could roughly guess where the pirate captain, who had been openly sold in the Sabaody Archipelago, would be sent later.
"Fight!"
"The rum's still waiting for me!"
"Kill these Marines!"
The pirate prisoners howled, grabbing the chains that had bound them as makeshift weapons, charging aggressively toward the Navy's ranks.
Such a scene was truly the spirit of brave warriors.
That is, if leaving Buggy out of the firing line wasn't so intentional.
The Navy's musket formation was pointed directly at Buggy, completely unobstructed.
"See that?"
"You have to rely on yourself if you want to survive. Don't expect others to suddenly become kind and help you."
Buggy wasn't surprised and gave Arne a few reassuring pats.
'If I was Whitebeard-san, these pirates would have surrendered to me long ago, begging to swear allegiance to me until death, calling me Pops.'
Even in the original story, there was such a loyal crew who had made their own decisions.
He glanced over the hull thoughtfully.
'Unfortunately, the people I've met so far are worse than before. Arne, who had been considered a bad guy, actually looks good by comparison.'
'I have to play solo.' Buggy suddenly missed the talents of Gotham City, especially that cute guy who believed in never killing...
'They seemed to be of the same kind. Same kind of distortion.'
"Who's that?"
"Buggy the Clown, bounty of 15 million Berries, from East Blue."
"Oh."
The Marine soldiers in the front row didn't exchange many words, but the words "from East Blue" said enough.
At the same time, they swung their weapons around and fired fiercely at the other pirates.
The pirates who had planned to betray their temporary captain were confused.
'That strange guy was the source of the chaos—why isn't he being targeted?!'
Unfortunately, the Navy had no intention of wasting time arguing with these fugitives.
Heavy firepower forced the prisoners to scatter in all directions.
'The weakness of East Blue is clear. It's their responsibility to revitalize the strength of the East Blue!'
The image of a young man with a straw hat suddenly popped into Buggy's mind...
'Forget it. Leave it to that guy who has so many backers, and ate that Gomu Gomu no Mi.'
Buggy remained calm. He moved the kitchen knife strapped to his chest to his forehead, pushing it halfway into the center of his brows, smearing blood from some unknown corpse.
To match his disguise, he hid a hand, eye, and ear.
Then he squatted aside, watching the battle between his cannon fodders and the Navy with great interest.
In the past, Buggy might not have found this surprising, but now, with the memories of Brix and Joaquin fused inside him, everything felt new.
Especially the one from Arkham.
'A bottle of rum and some meat would have been perfect right about now.'
Buggy didn't care that he was the cause of this chaos.
The Commodore in the white coat was a veteran who had fought through seas of blood and corpses.
Facing multiple pirates, he remained calm, first ordering the Marines to fire volleys to suppress the pirates' momentum.
Then he appeared before the little giant Habler, wielding a crescent-shaped blade.
The little giant was far too conspicuous in battle.
'Soru?'
The name of the move popped up in Buggy's mind—one of the Rokushiki techniques used by the Cipher Pol organization, introduced in the Enies Lobby arc.
Soru was the second most famous technique after Tekkai. How does he know? Well, Brix knows about it from his world.
Brownie continued, holding the blade above his head with both hands.
He stepped lightly in the air as if on solid ground, using another technique, Geppo, to gain leverage midair.
Then he struck down suddenly.
Blood burst forth from Habler's chest like a fountain.
Feeling the pain, Habler staggered back several steps. Luckily, Brownie had more than one target in mind.
A bearded pirate charged the Navy square holding the body of a cellmate.
Though quickly cut down by the Marines, the volley of fire paused briefly.
Joseph's eyes flashed as he seized the opportunity and rushed toward the passage entrance.
'The wet, salty breath of freedom seems to beckon me!'
But the next moment, the world spun, and he felt himself floating in the air. Looking down, he saw his empty neck.
"Ah..."
Only then did he understand. He had been beheaded.
Brownie flicked the scimitar in his hand, blood dripping onto the floor.
The thrill of killing brought him a sharp pleasure.
Even the muscle pain from frequent Soru strikes had become a kind of stimulation.
'This is the fate of scum!'
He gripped the scimitar tightly, red eyes searching for his next opponent.
Suddenly, a playful glint sparked in his eyes...