As the flurry of feathers approached Buggy, the commander watched in anticipation, convinced that Buggy would be skewered on the spot. His beak-like mouth even opened slightly in excitement—he could already envision Buggy's demise.
Sure, bringing Buggy back alive might have been ideal, but the commander knew how the upper echelons operated. They didn't necessarily want the man himself—just his head. That was clear enough; otherwise, they wouldn't have sent someone of his rank just for a case involving dead traffickers. Overkill meant agenda.
The commander kept his eyes locked on Buggy, expecting the spectacle to unfold any second—but what happened next stunned him.
The feathers zipped straight through where Buggy stood… only to hit the ground behind him. There was no sign of Buggy. Not even a shadow.
The commander's eyes widened in disbelief. He'd vanished?! That moment of shock quickly gave way to dread.
Sensing danger, he immediately beat his wings and flew higher into the sky. The higher he flew, the safer he would be—or so he thought.
But just as he began to ascend, a shadow flickered behind him. In the blink of an eye, a figure appeared on his back.
Buggy.
He felt a crushing force slam down on him, pressing him toward the ground. He thrashed, trying to shake Buggy off, but Buggy clung to him like a shadow, unshakable. The commander's descent accelerated rapidly.
Panicked, he shifted tactics. Moments before impact, he reverted to his human form, twisting his body mid-fall and crashing off to the side, avoiding a direct slam into the earth.
Buggy, who had been riding his back the whole time, hadn't launched a finishing blow on purpose. He'd had countless opportunities to strike during the fall, but chose not to. He needed answers.
The impact didn't inflict much real harm. As a Zoan-type Devil Fruit user, the commander's body was far more resilient than average. Aside from a few scrapes, he was fine.
He rose immediately, casting a cautious glare at Buggy, who stood calmly a few steps away, composed and unreadable. But that calmness only made the commander more uneasy. He felt utterly insignificant.
Looking to the side, the commander finally took in the scene around him, and what he saw shook him to his core.
Most of his soldiers had been completely wiped out. Some were cleaved clean in half by a hulking youth wielding a massive blade. Others lay groaning in agony. Only a handful still stood—and even they were struggling to hold their own against a deceptively young boy.
They were outmatched. Badly.
The commander realized it with grim clarity: he'd kicked a steel wall. These weren't just random pirates. They were monsters. And if all of them came at him at once, he wouldn't last long. Retreat crossed his mind.
Buggy noticed it too—the way the commander's eyes scanned the battlefield, the twitch of hesitation in his gaze. He was about to run.
Not giving him the chance, Buggy used Soru, vanishing from sight once again. The commander's eyes darted around in panic, trying to locate him.
Too late.
Before he could escape, a devastating kick slammed into his gut. The force sent him flying backward, smashing through several buildings like a cannonball.
Had the civilians not fled earlier when the fight broke out, there would've been serious casualties.
The commander's body finally embedded itself into a wall, arms and legs spread wide in an unconscious sprawl. Blood poured from his mouth. He was down.
Buggy walked over and yanked the limp body from the wall. The commander wasn't dead—Zoan toughness saved him. Buggy had intentionally held back; if he'd used his full power, the man wouldn't have survived.
Dragging him back, Buggy rejoined the others.
By now, the battlefield had gone quiet.
The fight was over.
Most of the enemy soldiers were either dead or gravely injured. The worst of it came from Weevil, who had cut through his enemies like a butcher through pigs—each one split cleanly down the middle.
Weevil didn't know mercy. His mother had never taught it to him. In battle, he struck to kill, always aiming to eliminate, never to wound.
The rest of Buggy's crew had also fought fiercely. None had held back. The enemy had tried to kill them—showing mercy would be foolish. Even Kuro had taken down several soldiers.
That alone was a testament to his growth. Back when he was still with the Black Cat Pirates, he would've been overwhelmed. But now, thanks to their recent training, he held his ground like a true pirate.
Hogback, of course, had done nothing. He lacked both the strength and the will. Deep down, he'd hoped the kingdom's soldiers would turn on Buggy and give him a way out. So, he stayed back, hiding from the fighting.
Buggy's crew had expected as much. None of them had counted on him. Lafitte stood by Hogback's side the entire time—both to protect him and to stop him from running.
No one seemed particularly fazed by the bloodshed—not even Kuro. Hogback, for all his cowardice, didn't bat an eye either. He may not have killed anyone himself, but as a doctor, he'd seen more death and blood than most.
Weevil grinned at Buggy with childlike pride.
"Cousin! These guys were super weak. None of them could even take one swing from me! I chopped 'em up like veggies!"
Buggy smiled faintly.
"Weevil, it's not that they were weak. You're just too strong," he said, patting the giant on the shoulder. "But remember—out there on the Grand Line, this kind of strength is just the beginning. I'll show you what real monsters look like. That's why you need to keep training hard, with the sword and the body techniques I taught you. There's a long road ahead."
"Hehe, got it, Cousin!" Weevil beamed with childlike loyalty.
He trusted everything Buggy said. In his heart, Buggy wasn't just family—he was everything. So every word carried the weight of absolute truth. He swore to train harder and master everything Buggy taught him.