The blue sea churned with waves as the Krieg Pirates' ship rapidly approached.

Davy Jones noted its condition—tattered sails and a battered hull, the prow marked with scars from blades and axes. It was barely any better than the Terror Ghost had been when first raised, as if it had suffered through some catastrophe.

Along the ship's rail stood a crowd of pirates, greed gleaming in their eyes, restlessness on their faces. They were already jeering and shouting toward Davy Jones' ship.

So they're trying to steal my ship?

The Terror Ghost had always been the one doing the raiding. Now, a pirate ship wanted to rob it? Quite a novel twist.

The last time something like this had happened was during their encounter with the Black Cat Pirates.

Behind Krieg's main ship was a smaller vessel, taking on the role of rearguard. It had resolutely turned around and was now charging straight toward the three Navy warships in hot pursuit—an act filled with desperate valor.

The Navy's cannons had never once ceased fire. Without bothering to discern the small ship's intentions, the warships aimed all barrels at it.

At this precise and bizarre moment, the Terror Ghost, Krieg's main ship, the rearguard vessel, and the Navy's flagship all happened to line up—perfectly horizontal across the sea!

"Hahaha!" Buggy spotted this and raised his eyebrows with gleeful excitement. The skull tattoo between his eyes seemed to dance with anticipation. "One shot, one soul! One shot, one soul!"

The cannon loaded with the Buggy Bomb didn't require a fuse. At the angle he had pre-set, it fired with a resounding BOOM!

Standing at the bow, Krieg and Captain Pearl heard the muffled roar—but before they could even see the projectile, their ship shuddered violently.

A deafening explosion erupted. Flames and smoke shot into the sky.

What the hell just happened?!

Amid the dense smoke and blinding orange glow, they saw it—

Krieg's main ship had been torn cleanly in half, both sides tilting away from each other, collapsing into the sea!

And the Buggy Bomb's destructive arc didn't end there. It surged forward, slamming into Gin's rearguard ship, and then into the Navy flagship—shattering both in equally savage fashion.

Especially the Navy flagship—reduced to countless fragments, blasted high into the gray sky and churned waves.

In mere seconds, the Buggy Bomb had obliterated three ships in one shot.

Even Buggy himself, though he had anticipated the result, stared in stunned awe before throwing his hands on his hips and bursting into triumphant laughter.

"As expected from the great me! A flawless masterpiece!"

It was indeed fearsome.

Alvida clutched her wide white hat to keep it from flying away in the raging wind.

She had witnessed the Buggy Bomb's power once before in Orange Town. Evidently, even out at sea, its lethality remained terrifyingly intact.

Kuro had descended from the lookout and was now standing on deck.

The reflections in his round glasses captured the shattered wreckage of the three ships, along with lingering plumes of smoke and fire. He couldn't help but feel a quiet shock.

A single cannonball—and this was the result?

He turned to look at the red-nosed clown, frowning deeply.

To think that this clown could craft something so powerful...

If I had this back then—three years ago... perhaps everything would've turned out differently...

Having fulfilled his long-awaited test, Buggy spun around and beamed at Davy Jones.

"Captain! Target successfully destroyed!"

"Well done," Davy Jones said with a rare smile on his slick, slimy face. "Now, let's see whether our guests enjoy this little... delicacy."

If he wanted to, he could have Buggy fire a second Buggy Bomb—or even ordinary shells would be enough to wipe out anyone left in the water.

But Davy Jones had never intended to kill indiscriminately.

His plan had always followed four steps:

Display overwhelming force. Destroy their ability to fight back. Gain total control over life and death. Harvest their fear.

Only by slowly tightening the noose could he extract the most terror.

He stepped to the edge of the ship and looked down into the sea, counting the survivors.

They would be his prey.

---

What just happened?!

What the hell just happened?!

Beneath the waves, Krieg could see broken masts, rudders, and anchors sinking all around him.

He also saw the bodies of his crew—faces frozen in terror and disbelief, eyes wide open even in death.

Pearl sank the fastest.

Blown unconscious by the explosion, he was still bound by his two heavy metal chest plates—like being shackled to two stone weights and tossed into the sea.

Within moments, he had vanished into the lightless depths.

Krieg had no intention of saving him. Instead, he drifted in the water, lost in thought.

What the hell did just happen?

It wasn't just the dead who didn't know. Even Krieg, one of the few survivors, had no idea what had occurred.

First, in the Grand Line, one man with a single sword had destroyed over forty ships of his fleet.

Now, back in the East Blue, a single cannonball had wiped out two ships?

Krieg felt like he was trapped in a recurring nightmare—one where he endlessly relived that same helpless despair.

His heavy gold armor began to drag him toward the seabed.

Holding his breath, he reached for a button at the base of his armor and pressed it.

FWOOSH—

A sudden jet of compressed air burst from beneath, propelling him rapidly toward the surface.

SPLASH—

Krieg burst out of the water, wiping seawater from his face and clearing his ears. What he saw was nothing short of a hellscape—and what he heard were the distant, anguished cries of survivors.

His once-mighty fleet of fifty ships... and he couldn't even keep the last two.

True, the Navy's flagship had also been destroyed—but two Navy ships still loomed nearby, vigilant and ready.

Still, they weren't the biggest threat.

The real danger was the black ship that had fired that cannon.

Krieg turned his head toward it.

It floated like a coffin upon the sea—utterly still. No pursuit. No departure. Its intentions, unreadable.

He admitted to himself: he had underestimated them.

But who could've predicted that a random ship would possess a weapon capable of destroying three vessels in one blow?

Just like back in the Grand Line—how could he have imagined that man would split an entire ship with a single sword?

Blub-blub.

After a few dull thuds, the propulsion from his armor faded.

Krieg was forced to start swimming. Looking around, he finally spotted a large plank of wood drifting nearby.

He swam toward it, grabbed the edge, and hauled himself aboard, gasping for breath.

Even then, he kept his eyes fixed on the black ship.

Its ominous presence unsettled him—just as much as the man with the raft and the sword once had.

SPLASH.

More water churned behind him. Krieg looked over.

A stranger was pulling himself onto the same plank.

A long scar marred the man's face. His fists were clad in brass knuckles. He was retching, water dripping from his mouth and onto the plank.

Krieg didn't recognize the man, but he knew the uniform—this was a Marine.

It was none other than Navy Headquarters Lieutenant "Iron Fist" Hepody, who had barely survived the explosion and washed up on the same driftwood.

The moment he looked up, he saw a face he recognized all too well.

Krieg's face—the one he had seen dozens of times on wanted posters these past few days.

The man he'd been dreaming of capturing.

And now, of all times—why now?

You've got to be kidding me!

First his warship gets inexplicably sunk.

Then he ends up face to face with Krieg himself?

This is the worst day of my life!

Still, Hepody stood up, cracking his joints one by one.

One-on-one... I might be able to win.

Just as that thought crossed his mind—SPLASH.

A third person climbed aboard.

It was Gin—his face haggard, his signature striped headwrap missing, and one of his crutches lost to the sea.

He coughed a few times, spitting out seawater.

When he looked up and saw Krieg and Hepody, he froze for a moment—then immediately scrambled to his feet.

Hepody was shocked. One look at Gin's attire, and he knew—another Krieg officer.

But the fact that Gin was alone changed everything.

Now he was the one outnumbered.

Hepody instinctively stepped back toward the edge, glancing at the water, wondering if he should jump back in.

"Don't move," Krieg interrupted his thoughts.

With a click, a mechanism in his armor activated, and rows of gun barrels extended from hidden compartments—aimed straight at Hepody.

Hepody went pale.

He looked at his brass knuckles—and cursed under his breath.

Krieg didn't waste time with pleasantries. He got straight to the point.

"Let us board one of your Navy ships and drop us off somewhere safe," he said.

"Do that—and I'll let you live."

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