-Real World-
Before Ben Beckman had arrived at that cliff, Red-Haired Shanks had received another call. One that required considerably more diplomatic care than chatting with his first mate.
A Celestial Dragon—one of the World Nobles whose authority theoretically superseded even Yonko—had personally contacted him via Den Den Mushi. The conversation had been terse, urgent, and repetitive to the point of annoyance.
"Is the Eternal Pose real?"
"Yes."
"You're absolutely certain? No possibility of fabrication or deception?"
"I saw it with my own eyes on Captain Roger's ship."
"And it truly points to Laugh Tale? The final island itself?"
"Yes. I already told you—"
"One more time. Confirm again. Is there ANY chance you're mistaken?"
The interrogation had continued in circles for nearly ten minutes. The Celestial Dragon on the other end—voice tight with barely suppressed panic—kept asking the same questions in slightly different phrasings, as if hoping Shanks's answer would change through repetition.
When the call finally ended, Shanks had been left with the distinct impression that the World Government would have preferred if the Eternal Pose didn't exist. That its reality represented a crisis they weren't prepared to handle.
Which made sense, in a horrifying way. If anyone could reach Laugh Tale directly, bypassing the complex requirements that had protected that island's secrets for centuries, then the World Government's carefully maintained information control was compromised.
They're terrified, Shanks had realized. Actually, genuinely terrified.
-Real World - Mary Geoise, Pangaea Castle-
The Room of Authority held the five most powerful Celestial Dragons in existence—at least nominally. Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, Saint Marcus Mars, Saint Topman Warcury, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, and Saint Shepherd Ju Peter. The Five Elders, rulers of the World Government, advisors to the Empty Throne.
Currently, they all wore expressions of profound distress.
"This is unacceptable," Saint Ju Peter said for perhaps the tenth time, his aged hands gripping his cane with white-knuckled intensity. "The Sky Screen has compromised eight centuries of careful information management in a single broadcast."
The Eternal Pose to Laugh Tale. Its existence alone was manageable—Roger had thrown it into the ocean, after all. It should have been lost forever, buried beneath tons of seawater or dissolved by salt and pressure.
But Douglas Bullet had somehow retrieved it. Kept it hidden for decades. And now possessed the single most valuable navigational tool in existence.
And we didn't know, the unspoken accusation hung in the air. He's been imprisoned in Impel Down's Level Six for over twenty years, and we never discovered this.
Saint Marcus Mars broke the heavy silence. "We specifically invited Commander Figarland Garlin to confirm the intelligence through his... connections. Perhaps we should hear his report directly before spiraling into contingency planning."
All eyes turned to the man standing at attention near the chamber's entrance. Saint Figarland Garlin—commander of the Holy Knights, the Celestial Dragons' most elite military force. His bearing was perfect, his expression neutral, but those who knew him well could detect tension in the set of his shoulders.
"I have confirmed the information with Shanks directly," Garlin reported in a clipped, military tone. "The Eternal Pose pointing to Laugh Tale is authentic beyond any doubt. It was thrown into the ocean by Gol D. Roger following their arrival at the final island. How Douglas Bullet retrieved it remains unknown—Shanks claims he has no knowledge of the method or timing."
A heavy pause.
"I can say with certainty that multiple former Roger Pirates crew members witnessed the Eternal Pose being discarded. Its existence is not fabrication or deception. It is real, and it is currently in Bullet's possession."
The confirmation hit like a physical blow despite everyone already knowing the truth. Hearing it stated so definitively, from a source they trusted absolutely, removed the last vestige of hopeful denial.
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn rubbed his temples, feeling the beginning of a headache that no amount of medication would cure. "We face both good news and bad news, then. The good news is that the Sky Screen's information regarding the Eternal Pose is accurate—no surprises or hidden deceptions. The bad news..."
"...is that the Sky Screen's information regarding the Eternal Pose is accurate," Saint Warcury completed grimly. "Which means the situation is exactly as dire as it appears."
This was their most urgent crisis. More pressing than Kaido's current activities. More important than the Revolutionary Army's growing influence. More critical than any individual threat to regional stability.
Because the Eternal Pose to Laugh Tale represented access to information the World Government had spent eight centuries suppressing. The truth about the Void Century. The nature of the Ancient Kingdom. The reality behind the World Government's formation. Secrets that could—would—undermine their authority if widely disseminated.
How can one pirate's imprisoned body compare to the value of keeping Laugh Tale's secrets contained? Saint Ju Peter thought bitterly. Kaido is just another powerful fool. But this... this threatens our entire foundation.
"I don't know how to report this to Lord Imu," Saint Ju Peter admitted quietly, his voice carrying genuine fear. "If we fail to secure that Eternal Pose, if it falls into hostile hands and they reach Laugh Tale..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. They all understood the implications.
Lord Imu's wrath was not something the Five Elders could survive. They were puppets—useful administrators who maintained the status quo. But puppets could be replaced. If they failed in a matter this critical, another generation of Celestial Dragons would inherit their positions.
Probably after their public executions.
Saint Marcus Mars, the God of Environment who specialized in oversight and intelligence, leaned forward with barely contained frustration. "The interrogators at Impel Down are incompetent fools. Bullet has been imprisoned for over twenty years, and they've extracted nothing useful about his hidden resources. No mention of the Eternal Pose. No hints about where he might have concealed it. Nothing."
His elderly face twisted with contempt. "They rely on physical torture and deprivation—crude methods that fail against prisoners with sufficient willpower. We need a scientific solution."
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, the God of Scientific Defense whose domain included technological warfare, nodded slowly. His mind was already working through possibilities.
"We have access to advanced interrogation pharmaceuticals," Saturn proposed clinically. "Truth serums that bypass conscious resistance and extract information directly from neurological responses. Even someone with Bullet's enhanced physiology can't resist properly calibrated chemical compounds indefinitely."
He paused, then added with chilling pragmatism: "If pharmaceutical methods prove inadequate, there are more invasive options. Bullet's head could be surgically removed while keeping brain tissue viable in specialized preservation containers. Dr. Vegapunk's Nomi Nomi no Mi (Brain-Brain Fruit) grants him unprecedented access to neurological structures. He could potentially extract memories directly from brain matter."
The suggestion was delivered in the same tone one might use to discuss crop rotation or shipping schedules. Not cruel, precisely, but utterly divorced from ethical considerations. Bullet was a problem requiring solution. If the solution involved decapitation and vivisection, so be it.
Saint Marcus Mars slammed his palm against the armrest of his chair, the sound echoing sharply in the chamber. "Why is Buggy the Clown involved in everything? This isn't coincidence anymore—his fingerprints are on every major crisis the Sky Screen has revealed!"
His voice rose with genuine frustration. "The Marine is utterly useless. They can't even locate one man. They let him operate freely, building power, recruiting dangerous individuals, and stirring chaos. At this rate, we'll have another Rocks D. Xebec on our hands!"
The comparison silenced the room.
Rocks D. Xebec. The pirate who'd nearly destroyed the World Government forty years ago. Who'd commanded a crew of absolute monsters—Whitebeard, Big Mom, Kaido, Shiki, Captain John, and dozens of others whose names still inspired fear.
The Rocks Pirates had been stronger than Roger's crew at their respective peaks. More ruthless. More organized. More willing to do whatever was necessary to achieve world domination.
Only the unprecedented alliance between Gol D. Roger and Monkey D. Garp—the greatest pirate and the greatest Marine working together—had stopped Rocks at God Valley. And even then, it had been a near thing.
If Buggy the Clown was building something comparable...
"Actually," Saint Mars said slowly, his expression darkening further, "I believe the threat posed by the Buggy Pirates may eventually surpass what the Rocks Pirates represented. The Sky Screen suggests a level of strategic planning and long-term manipulation that Rocks never demonstrated. Rocks was powerful but straightforward—he gathered strength and attacked directly. Buggy appears to be orchestrating events from the shadows, positioning pieces years in advance."
He met his colleagues' eyes grimly. "That's exponentially more dangerous."
Another uncomfortable truth hung unspoken in the air: Buggy the Clown's origins remained completely unknown. The Sky Screen had deliberately concealed information about his early life, his parentage, his background before joining Roger's crew.
Why? That omission felt significant. Intentional. As if the Sky Screen wanted them to question and investigate.
Saint Warcury cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "There's another matter we should discuss. Something that's been troubling me since the first broadcasts about Buggy."
He gestured toward Saint Figarland Garlin. "Commander Garlin participated in the God Valley incident. He would have been present when... certain decisions were made about survivors and offspring."
The implication landed like a lead weight.
Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, who'd remained silent until now, addressed Garlin directly. "Commander, you're the only person in this room who was actually present at God Valley's conclusion. So let me ask plainly: Do you believe Buggy the Clown could be Rocks D. Xebec's biological son?"
The question crystallized suspicions that had been building for days. The timeline matched too perfectly to be coincidence.
Consider: Roger's crew would have not taken two infants aboard following the God Valley incident. Red-Haired Shanks's origins had been confirmed—he was discovered in a treasure chest after the battle, presumably orphaned by the conflict. The Roger Pirates had raised him as their own.
But Buggy the Clown appeared around the same time. Same approximate age as Shanks. No explanation for his presence on Roger's ship. Just... there, as if he'd always been a trainee crew member.
Two babies. One battle. Both raised by the Pirate King himself.
"It's not difficult to imagine," Saint Ju Peter said carefully, thinking aloud. "If Roger took in one orphaned infant from God Valley, why not two? Especially if both children were... politically inconvenient for other parties to raise openly."
The pattern was suspicious. Rocks D. Xebec had allegedly died at God Valley without any confirmed descendants. But what if he'd sent a child away before the final battle? Hidden his offspring with someone he trusted—or someone he calculated would protect the baby even as enemies?
Gol D. Roger had a documented soft spot for children. If Rocks had somehow arranged for his infant son to fall into Roger's hands, banking on the Pirate King's conscience...
"Consider Buggy's behavior in the Sky Screen broadcasts," Saint Mars continued, warming to the theory. "His ambition to conquer the world. His declaration about destroying the old order. His gathering of powerful subordinates like Douglas Bullet. His strategic manipulation of future events."
He ticked points off on his fingers. "That's not random piracy. That's someone consciously inheriting and executing his father's unfinished ambition. Completing what Rocks started but failed to achieve."
The various performances shown in the Sky Screen supported this interpretation. Buggy hadn't just stumbled into power—he'd been planning systematically since Roger's death. Positioning himself behind the scenes. Manipulating key individuals who would shape the future: Kaito, Bullet, potentially even Monkey D. Luffy and Kozuki Momonosuke.
The Five Elders excelled at bullying straightforward opponents—people like Bartholomew Kuma, whose honest nature made him easy to deceive and manipulate. Hot-blooded idiots who charged forward without subtlety or planning.
But confronting someone who actually thought strategically? Who planned years in advance? Who understood how to manipulate information and public perception?
They found themselves consistently outmaneuvered. Always reacting rather than acting. Perpetually one step behind.
"There are too many coincidences surrounding Buggy the Clown," Figarland Garlin finally responded, his voice measured. "While intelligence reports suggest Rocks had no surviving descendants, we must acknowledge we've been deceived before. Roger and Garp collaborated to hide Portgas D. Ace for twenty years. If they could manage that level of conspiracy..."
He let the implication hang. If two men on opposite sides of the law—one a pirate, one a Marine—could successfully hide the Pirate King's son from the World Government's surveillance for two decades, what else might they have hidden?
"People from that era share a peculiar mentality," Garlin continued, his tone carrying faint disgust. "Even individuals from opposing factions develop... sympathetic bonds. They take care of each other's offspring. Consider Monkey D. Garp and Edward Newgate—both invested enormous effort into raising Portgas D. Ace despite having no obligation to do so."
The commander's expression hardened. "It is entirely plausible that Rocks sent his offspring to Roger's ship before his death. A harmless infant poses no immediate threat. By the time such a child matured to adulthood, most witnesses from the old era would be dead or irrelevant. Perfect long-term survival strategy."
The Five Elders exchanged glances, each seeing their own suspicions reflected in the others' faces.
"We're in agreement, then," Saint Warcury said slowly. "There's a credible possibility—perhaps even probability—that Buggy the Clown is Rocks D. Xebec's biological son, raised unknowingly by Gol D. Roger as a final act of... what? Respect? Obligation? Mercy?"
"It doesn't matter why," Saint Ju Peter interjected. "What matters is the current situation. If Buggy truly is Rocks's son, and if he's consciously pursuing his father's dream of world conquest, then we need to act decisively before he grows too powerful to contain."
Saint Mars leaned back in his chair, his ancient mind working through possibilities. "We can't simply assassinate him. He's a Shichibukai currently—technically our ally. Killing him openly would require justification that the Sky Screen hasn't provided yet. And covert assassination risks failure, which would expose our intentions."
"What if..." Saint Warcury's voice was thoughtful. "What if we tested him first? Forced his hand through information warfare rather than direct action?"
The idea hung in the air, growing more appealing as they considered implications.
"Explain," Saint Saturn prompted.
"We publish the theory," Warcury elaborated. "Not as confirmed fact, but as speculation. 'Shocking Discovery: Is Buggy the Clown the Secret Son of Rocks D. Xebec?' Let Morgans run with it through the World Economic News. Watch how Buggy responds."
Saint Mars's eyes lit with understanding. "If he denies it vehemently, that suggests we're wrong and he has no connection. If he ignores it completely, he's either supremely confident or genuinely innocent. But if he reacts with anger, defensiveness, or starts acting to protect or enhance his father's legacy..."
"...then we have confirmation," Warcury finished. "And justification for treating him as we treated Rocks—an existential threat requiring immediate elimination."
The strategy was elegant in its simplicity. Force Buggy to reveal his true intentions through public pressure. Use information itself as a weapon, creating a situation where any response—or lack thereof—provided valuable intelligence.
Saint Ju Peter nodded slowly. "It's a calculated risk. If we're wrong, we've potentially antagonized a Shichibukai with false accusations. But if we're right..."
"If we're right," Saint Nusjuro said coldly, "we've identified the single greatest threat to the World Government's stability and created pretext for his elimination. The risk is acceptable."
Another round of discussion followed, refining details and addressing contingencies. Finally, the Five Elders reached consensus.
"We'll route this through CP0," Saint Saturn decided. "Stussy has established rapport with Morgans. She'll package the information as leaked intelligence—something Morgans 'discovered' through his journalistic networks rather than government propaganda."
He smiled thinly. "That bird has an instinct for sensationalism. He'll run with this story enthusiastically, probably embellish it with his own theories and speculation. The more outrageous the headlines, the more pressure on Buggy to respond."
The plan solidified quickly after that. CP0 would contact Morgans. The Newspaper King would receive "confidential intelligence" suggesting Buggy's parentage. World Economic News would publish something appropriately inflammatory. And then...
Then they'd watch. Observe. Analyze Buggy's response with every intelligence asset at their disposal.
The trap was set.
-Real World - Several Days Later-
The newspaper dropped like a bomb across the Grand Line and Four Blues simultaneously. Millions of copies, distributed through Morgans's extensive delivery network, landing on doorsteps and in ports worldwide.
The headline screamed across the front page in letters three inches tall:
"SHOCKING REVELATION: BUGGY THE CLOWN—SECRET SON OF ROCKS D. XEBEC?!"
Beneath it, in only slightly smaller text:
"Future Shichibukai's True Origins Finally Exposed! The Devil's Bloodline Lives On!"
The article that followed was a masterpiece of inflammatory journalism. Morgans had taken the Five Elders' suggested information and expanded it into a full exposé, complete with:
Timeline comparisons showing Buggy's appearance coinciding with God Valley
Speculation about Roger's motivations for raising Rocks's child
Analysis of Buggy's strategic behavior suggesting inherited ambition
Interviews with "anonymous sources familiar with the matter"
Side-by-side photographs comparing facial features (heavily doctored to emphasize similarities)
The entire piece read like conspiracy theory gone mainstream. Outrageous enough to capture attention, but grounded in just enough verifiable detail to seem plausible.
Was the legendary Rocks D. Xebec's bloodline secretly preserved by his greatest enemy? Did Gol D. Roger knowingly raise the son of the man he defeated at God Valley? And most terrifyingly—is Buggy the Clown now pursuing his father's dream of world conquest with the strategic cunning Roger's teaching provided?
The evidence suggests YES.
The article concluded with ominous warnings about the "Son of Rocks" and speculation about what his rise might mean for the world's future stability.
By midday, the story had spread across every island with newspaper service. Pirates discussed it in bars. Marines debated it in mess halls. Civilians gosped about it in marketplaces.
And somewhere in the New World, on a ship flying the jolly roger of a red-nosed clown, Buggy the Clown held a copy of that newspaper in his hands.
His expression was unreadable.
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