A grand drama was about to unfold, and its director sat comfortably hidden away on Fukumitsu Island in East Blue. Kaito couldn't help but grin as he cast his fishing line into the crystal-clear waters, savoring the intoxicating feeling of having successfully deceived the entire world.
The sensation was absolutely divine—being the director, handpicking his leading actors, crafting the script as screenwriter, and presenting this magnificent performance to every intelligent creature across the planet. The power to shape reality through carefully constructed fiction was more addictive than any drug.
"The Loguetown show wasn't performed in vain," he mused aloud, watching his bobber drift lazily on the gentle waves. "The Sky Screen's second appearance convinced even more people of its authenticity. This job really is incredibly profitable."
The mastermind behind the world's greatest deception relaxed on this small, unremarkable island, patiently waiting for fish to take his bait while simultaneously counting his latest harvest on the virtual interface only he could see. The numbers were absolutely staggering.
His Infamy Points had increased by a whopping 2 billion from this latest broadcast alone. Nami, the Straw Hats' money-obsessed navigator, had personally contributed 100,000 IP—that greedy woman had completely bought into her projected future of unimaginable wealth. Even her fellow villagers from Cocoyasi had contributed a substantial number of points, their hope for her success translating directly into his profit.
Kaito leaned back against a palm tree, his fishing rod propped against his shoulder as he analyzed the data streaming across his mental interface. The formula was elegantly simple: understand a person's deepest desires, craft a believable future that perfectly aligned with their hopes and fears, then watch the Infamy Points pour in like a golden waterfall.
"Next time, I'll write Zoro's story even more outrageously," he chuckled to himself, already plotting his next move. "I'll have him proclaimed as the greatest swordsman who ever lived. That should give Shimotsuki Koshiro a proper headache when his future students start trying to mimic Zoro's three-sword style instead of learning proper fundamentals. The chaos alone should net me another massive windfall."
One thing puzzled him, though. Monkey D. Luffy, despite being the original protagonist, had generated surprisingly few Infamy Points—less than three digits this time around. Logic dictated that the main character should be one of his biggest point generators.
Could the future Pirate King actually be too simple-minded to be properly manipulated? The thought intrigued Kaito. He'd have to test that theory eventually, perhaps by writing Luffy into an even more dramatic role in future broadcasts.
[Grand Tale System: I've reviewed your latest script draft. If you proceed as planned, I predict Buggy the Clown's bounty will skyrocket even higher. You really do have a soft spot for him, don't you?]
On a remote, nameless island somewhere in East Blue, Buggy the Clown suddenly erupted in a violent sneeze that sent him lurching forward in his makeshift bed. Wrapped head to toe in bandages like some cursed mummy, he hadn't dared to venture outside since his harrowing escape from Loguetown. That familiar sensation of malevolent intent watching him had returned with a vengeance.
He'd experienced this exact same feeling right before the Sky Screen's first appearance, but whenever he tried to explain it to others, they simply assumed he was putting on another one of his theatrical performances. Some truths were simply too bizarre for anyone to believe.
"Captain! Captain Buggy!" One of his surviving crew members burst through the makeshift tent flap, clutching a fresh batch of wanted posters in his trembling hands. "The Marines... they've updated our bounties!"
Buggy's bloodshot eyes focused on the poster thrust before his bandaged face, and he nearly fainted on the spot. His own image stared back at him with that signature red nose and wild blue hair, but the number beneath made his world spin: 3,000,000,000 berries.
Three billion. Three. Billion. Berries.
That astronomical sum could theoretically place him among the ranks of the Four Emperors themselves—a fifth emperor of the sea. Combined with Morgans' characteristically sensationalized newspaper reports painting him as some sort of mastermind terrorist, every powerful faction in the world now had him in their crosshairs.
"This is insane!" Buggy's voice cracked as he clutched the poster with shaking hands. "I don't have some secret split personality! I would never do something so flashily stupid!"
But even as the words left his mouth, he knew how they sounded. Who would believe that the man who had apparently split the very ocean itself to deflect an island-destroying attack was actually just a cowardly treasure hunter who preferred easy marks?
The bounties for his crew had skyrocketed proportionally. Alvida's poster now showed 30 million berries, the animal tamer Mohji had jumped to 20 million, swordsman Cabaji was worth 15 million, and even poor Richie the lion somehow warranted 5 million berries despite being unable to speak.
His executives huddled around him like frightened children, their eyes filled with a disturbing mixture of awe and expectation. They genuinely believed their captain possessed some kind of dormant alternate personality—a powerful, ruthless version of himself who would emerge during times of crisis to save them all.
The memory of that impossible moment in Loguetown haunted them all. That massive golden beam of the "Sword of Promised Victory" had been poised to obliterate the entire town, yet somehow Buggy had split the ocean itself, redirecting the devastating energy away from populated areas. Without that inexplicable intervention, the Buggy Pirates would have been vaporized along with everything else.
According to Morgans' subsequent reporting, the mysterious girl who wielded such apocalyptic power had joined the Marines and been immediately promoted to Admiral candidate status. In her exclusive interview, she'd expressed disappointment that Buggy had managed to escape her ultimate attack—confirmation that he was very much alive and presumably still a threat.
Even more disturbing were the rumors connecting Red-Haired Shanks to the World Government's highest echelons. The Four Emperor's life card for Buggy had supposedly only burned at the edges, indicating injury rather than death, which meant every major power knew he was still out there somewhere.
The World Government had flooded East Blue with intelligence operatives, conducting systematic sweeps of every island and hidden cove. They weren't afraid of him causing obvious trouble—they feared what schemes he might be hatching in the shadows. That kind of patient, calculating threat was exactly what kept the Five Elders awake at night.
Buggy's natural paranoia had kicked into overdrive. He'd forbidden his crew from using his name during any activities, keeping them to the bare minimum needed for survival. They subsisted on whatever they could scavenge or steal without drawing attention, living like fugitives rather than the flashy pirates they'd once been.
The worst part was the growing certainty that someone, somewhere, was deliberately using him as a puppet in some grander scheme. Every fiber of his being screamed that he was being set up as the fall guy for something catastrophic, transformed from a simple treasure-loving pirate into an unwilling symbol of global revolution.
Under the worshipful gazes of his subordinates, Buggy closed his eyes and tried to return to sleep, though rest had become nearly impossible. The same nightmare plagued him every night: Admiral-level Marines hunting him across bloody battlefields, the Four Emperors' crews baying for his blood, and mysterious white-clad government agents closing in from all sides. In these dreams, he could only drag his broken body forward in desperate flight, never able to escape the tightening noose around his neck.
Unfortunately for Buggy, his survival instincts were absolutely correct. Even the Grand Tale System felt a twinge of sympathy for the clown's plight, knowing that Kaito planned to feature him prominently in the upcoming Dressrosa storyline. The poor fool was being sheared like a sheep, and eventually there wouldn't be any wool left to harvest.
Back on Fukumitsu Island, Kaito's fishing line finally jerked with activity. As he reeled in a decent-sized fish, his mind wandered to his two most successful "character summons" to date: Artoria Pendragon and Eren Yeager. Both had exceeded his expectations in terms of authenticity and independence.
Their integration into this world felt natural because he'd designed their roles to align with their core personalities. Artoria's noble nature made her Marine career inevitable, while Eren's vengeful intensity would serve different purposes. The best part was that both operated with genuine autonomy—Kaito only needed them to play specific roles at crucial moments, letting them live their daily lives without constant micromanagement.
Eren, however, had made it clear through their psychic link that he had no intention of continuing his journey with the Straw Hat Pirates. His tragic backstory involving Flevance and his temperament made him unsuitable for Luffy's carefree adventures. He had darker, more personal goals to pursue.
"Perfect," Kaito murmured as he baited his hook for another cast. "Eren's role in the Dressrosa script will showcase the terrifying power of the Nine Titans to the world. After Artoria, he'll become the second most famous person on the seas."