Chapter 20: Under Fire

One day later...

A medium-sized sailing ship, its hull sporting a large hole and its mast patched in places, journeyed across the open sea. The vast blue ocean stretched out in all directions, its surface sparkling like a resplendent star fallen from the heavens, transformed into a magnificent expanse of crystal brilliance.

Yet Garen had little interest in the wonders of the natural world.

“Hurry! The wind’s about to shift!”

“Move and adjust the foremast sail!”

Nami, legs crossed like a foreman, sat off to the side, impatiently pointing at Garen and scolding him:

“If you can’t even handle the halyard, how do you expect to sail the seas?”

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Tyson, with several ropes clamped in his jaws, didn’t forget to bark his own retort, joining Nami in reprimanding Garen.

“Alright, alright!”

Garen, frustrated, stared helplessly at the jumble of tangled ropes before him.

This ship was large enough that it ought to be crewed by at least ten seasoned sailors. But now, there were only three people on board. Even Wallace had been pressed into service as the helmsman, and the only one helping Garen with the work was the ever-faithful Tyson.

Though Tyson couldn’t handle any delicate tasks, he was at least useful for hauling ropes.

But Nami the expert navigator’s rebuke came again, sharp in his ear:

“Too slow!”

“Haven’t I taught you how to tie knots?!”

“Why don’t you come and do it yourself?” Garen snapped back, annoyed. “There are nine different ways to tie a knot—who can remember them all?”

“If you can’t remember, practice!” Nami shot back. “The right knot for the right moment could save your life when it matters!”

She lounged contentedly on a distant deck chair, lecturing Garen without even looking up from her chart, a smug smile lighting her face.

“Besides, I’m a navigator, not a deckhand. Physical labor isn’t my responsibility.”

“If you want to blame someone, blame your own lack of education!”

Garen had no response; he knew astronomy and geography, could even discuss the birth of the universe or black holes with impressive, if obscure, theories—but he’d never learned the practicalities of sailing a wooden ship.

“How much longer until we arrive?” he asked, already weary of the monotony of life at sea.

“If you manage to adjust the sails properly…” Nami replied offhandedly, “About a full day.”

“A whole day?” Garen’s face darkened.

“Stop dawdling! Get to work!” Nami barked mercilessly at her hapless laborer. “We’re close to the Calm Belt’s circular current! If you don’t get the sails right, we’ll be blown into the doldrums and become food for sea kings!”

“Yes, ma’am…”

Garen grimly returned to hauling the heavy ropes, muttering under his breath, “So much for the promised voyage of drinking, feasting, and sightseeing. All I do is slave away…”

“Sorry to disappoint…”

Nami, eyes glued to her chart, didn’t hesitate to dash his hopes:

“Sailing is nothing but tedium!”

“If you dream of being the kind of captain who just drinks and feasts—you’re deluding yourself!”

“Sigh…” Garen murmured, “I’d rather fight pirates for three hundred rounds than keep doing this…”

“Sir Knight?!”

Wallace’s alarmed voice suddenly rang from the prow. Besides steering, he’d been pressed into service as the lookout as well. “A pirate ship’s been sighted!”

No sooner had he spoken—

A black, spherical cannonball came whistling down from above, arcing straight for the spot where Garen and Tyson were standing.

“A cannonball?”

Garen’s heart sank, but he quickly steadied himself. These old-fashioned solid shots relied purely on kinetic impact—their destructive range was limited, their speed not especially fast. With his current physical prowess, he had little to fear.

Relying on his near-superhuman reflexes, Garen pinpointed the cannonball’s landing spot, stepped aside with calm precision, graceful and unhurried.

But as the cannonball struck—

The so-called “solid shot” suddenly erupted in a blinding, unnatural flash.

A massive shockwave, accompanied by a burst of heat and light, bloomed into a dazzling mushroom cloud on the spot.

“What kind of black technology is this?!”

Garen was dumbfounded. Before he could finish his thought, he and Tyson—caught in the blast—were sent flying high into the air…

...

A short time earlier…

Not far from Garen’s ship, another pirate vessel was racing along the same course.

This was no ordinary pirate ship. Its captain was once a crewmate of the Pirate King Roger, a close companion to Red-Haired Shanks of the Four Emperors, a rival on the high seas to legends like Whitebeard and Golden Lion, and a man who’d escaped Navy Hero Garp’s pursuit unscathed—

A man with such a fearsome résumé now sat aboard this unassuming pirate ship.

He was the notorious Buggy—a name so infamous, it could cross dimensions and strike terror into the very gods.

At this moment, the clown Buggy was leading his pack of ferocious subordinates on a rampage through the East Blue.

“Found them yet?”

“Have you found them yet?!”

Fifteen-million-berrie pirate Buggy pressed his navigator for the umpteenth time, barely containing his rage.

“Where are those Steelblade Pirates?!”

“N-no…”

The navigator shrank back, stammering, “We’ve lost their trail for days now… Those stolen treasures are probably gone for good…”

The great Captain Buggy’s face flushed red with embarrassment and anger as he slapped his armrest.

“Stolen treasures?! Are you saying the great Buggy was robbed by nobodies like the Steelblade Pirates?!”

“Y-yes, well…” The navigator quickly rephrased, “A batch of treasures was pilfered by those cunning scoundrels…”

“Hmm?”

Buggy still looked dissatisfied.

Another, more thick-skinned lackey sidled over and offered, “They were gifts—bestowed by the mighty Buggy upon the rookie pirates!”

At last, Buggy nodded in satisfaction.

But the truth was this: Even with the formidable Buggy—friend of a Four Emperor—at their helm, the Buggy Pirates had recently suffered humiliation at the hands of the ten-million-class Steelblade Pirates. Though their foes had ultimately fled, the batch of treasures worth over two million berries had ended up in the Steelblade Pirates’ hands.

Buggy, bent on revenge, had prowled the seas with his men ever since, but to no avail.

“Perhaps…”

The Buggy Pirates’ first mate, the so-called Beast Tamer Mohji, finally ventured, “Captain Buggy, maybe we should give up this time? Wandering the seas aimlessly is a waste of strength…”

“Hmmm…”

Buggy fell silent, his bulbous red nose swelling with indignation—a comical sight.

If he didn’t reclaim his pride, this fifteen-million-berrie pirate risked being trampled by his juniors. Yet chasing shadows across the ocean was a losing proposition.

“Captain Buggy!”

Just as Buggy hesitated, the lookout atop the mast shouted excitedly, “I see them!”

“Oh?”

Buggy’s eyes lit up. In an instant, he used his Chop-Chop Fruit powers to detach his head and send it soaring seven or eight meters up, stopping at the lookout platform.

The lookout pointed and obligingly held up a telescope for Buggy’s floating head.

“The Steelblade Pirates—they’re over there! They’ve lowered their flag, but I’d never mistake that ship. There’s still a hole in the hull from our cannon last time!”

Through the lens, Buggy confirmed the familiar enemy ship and grinned wickedly.

“Hahaha! So they don’t even dare fly their flag to escape my wrath?! Today I’ll show these arrogant upstarts what happens when you cross Buggy the Clown!”

“Captain?”

The crew’s strategist, the third-rate swordsman known as ‘The Performer’ Cabaji, asked, “Shall we board, or bombard from afar?”

“Hmm…”

Buggy pondered. The Steelblade Pirates, though powerless against his Devil Fruit, were all knife-wielding desperadoes—a far cry from his own troupe of circus performers. Last time, underestimating their close-quarters combat had cost him dearly.

So Buggy’s laughter grew even more menacing.

“Hahaha! These disrespectful, treacherous brats deserve no code of honor! Fire the cannons and blast them to hell!”

He gestured grandly to his first mate.

“Second Captain! Bring out Big Buggy’s Cannon!”