When Bellamy finally regained consciousness, everything around him felt wrong.
The ceiling above wasn't the one from his usual sleeping quarters. The smell was different too.
"I'm... not dead?"
The words came out as barely a whisper. His throat was dry, his tongue thick.
He honestly hadn't expected to wake up at all. That final punch should have been his last act in this world.
Even before throwing that attack, he'd known he was finished. His body had been falling apart. Whether that punch landed or not, he'd been dying anyway. But what really convinced him death was inevitable was that strange sensation when his fist made contact. Instead of the satisfying impact he'd expected, he'd felt a bizarre force that surged from his arm straight into his core.
The pain hadn't been the worst part. No, it was that weird shattering feeling, like a mirror breaking inside his chest. He'd been certain that was the end.
Bellamy pushed himself up to sitting. Looking around, he saw his entire crew sprawled across the floor of what appeared to be some kind of warehouse or storage building. They were scattered everywhere.
So this definitely wasn't heaven. And probably not hell either, unless hell was a lot more boring than advertised.
He reached for his chest. He expected agony, or at least sharp pain.
Instead... nothing. No pain at all.
"What the..."
His movement and voice seemed to be what Muret, the ship's doctor, had been waiting for. She let out a sigh and hurried over.
"Bellamy! Thank god you're finally awake!"
Muret wasn't really a proper ship doctor, her medical expertise consisted mostly of providing emotional support and basic stitching. Before joining the crew, she'd been a nurse at a regular hospital, not a combat medic. When she'd first seen that wound and the amount of blood, she'd completely panicked and had no idea what to do beyond keeping him comfortable.
"How long was I out?"
"Three days. Three whole days! We thought... we weren't sure you'd wake up."
Bellamy tried to process that information, but his mind kept getting stuck on something else.
"That guy from that night. The one who... where is he now?"
Muret's expression turned complicated at the question. She glanced at the other crew members who were starting to stir, then back at Bellamy.
"Those people are big shots. Way out of our league. Not someone we can fight."
"What do you mean?"
Muret proceeded to explain what had happened in Mock Town over the past three days.
"So let me get this straight," Bellamy said slowly, trying to make sense of it all. "The Straw Hat captain has a bounty of 96 million berries, but the guy I fought doesn't even have a wanted poster?"
"Well... we're not sure about that." Muret pulled out a crumpled bounty poster. "We think it might be him, but honestly, aside from the face being somewhat similar, everything else is completely different."
Bellamy stared at the poster. The face did look familiar, he'd seen it up close during their fight, after all. But as Muret said, that's where the similarities ended. The build was wrong, the clothes were wrong, and most importantly, the bounty was absolutely insane.
90 million berries.
"Damn," Bellamy breathed.
"Yeah. And there's more." Muret hesitated before continuing. "According to several reliable sources, they defeated Crocodile."
"One of the Seven Warlords of the Sea?"
"But that should've been the captain who did it, right?" Sarquiss had woken up at some point during the conversation and was now sitting nearby, rubbing his head. "Why wouldn't that guy have a bounty if he's that strong?"
His eyes had a strange quality to them as he spoke. But then again, maybe it was just the lighting in this warehouse.
"I've been thinking about that. That fight three days ago, we all saw it with our own eyes. Someone with that kind of power not having a bounty? That's suspicious. Unless..."
"Unless what?" Bellamy asked.
"Unless it was actually him who took down Crocodile, and the Straw Hat kid is just a figurehead."
Other crew members were waking up now, and Bellamy noticed they were all nodding in agreement with Sarquiss' theory.
"I mean, think about it," another pirate chimed in. "If someone that powerful isn't even the captain, how terrifying must the captain be?"
Bellamy found himself nodding along. The logic was sound.
"Bellamy," Sarquiss said. "We need to talk about what happens next."
"What do you mean?"
"He didn't kill us." Sarquiss stated it like it was the most significant fact in the world. "That guy had us dead to rights. He could've slaughtered every last one of us without breaking a sweat. But he didn't."
Bellamy swallowed. His pride, which had always been his defining characteristic, felt like shattered glass in his chest. That single punch had shown him exactly how weak he really was.
No wonder Doflamingo had never taken him seriously.
No wonder the man had always kept him at arm's length.
When your pride gets completely obliterated like that, what's left behind is just... emptiness. A numb void where confidence used to be.
"So what are you suggesting?" Bellamy asked, though part of him already knew what was coming.
"We should join them."
"WHAT?!"
Bellamy stared at Sarquiss. This was his first mate, and he was suggesting they abandon everything to pledge loyalty to the very man who'd just defeated him? To be fair, that wasn't exactly uncommon, but still… damn.
But Sarquiss seemed completely serious. "You know it as well as I do, Bellamy. His power, his strength... his beauty! Someone like that is exactly the kind of man worth following."
"His beauty?" Bellamy repeated. That was a weird thing to emphasize.
"And the best part, they're still newcomers! Their crew is tiny! If we offer to join with your 55-million bounty, they'd be stupid to refuse. We'd be valuable additions."
Bellamy looked around at his crew, expecting to see at least some disagreement, or at least some loyalty to their original dream of following Doflamingo.
Instead, every single face showed that same disturbing expression.
"Are you people serious right now?"
But they all nodded, including Muret, who'd just been checking his wounds a moment ago.
"Ever since you set sail, you've worked your ass off trying to get Doflamingo's attention, trying to be worthy of being called his family. But did he ever accept you? Did he ever even acknowledge your existence beyond lending you his flag?"
The words hurt because they were true. Bellamy had spent years trying to prove himself worthy, and Doflamingo had barely noticed.
"Let's be real here," Sarquiss continued. "In his eyes, we're nothing but street thugs. Disposable. But the one who beat you, he may be different."
This was wrong. All wrong. They'd all come from the North Blue specifically because of their admiration for Doflamingo. The Heavenly Yaksha was a legend there, the underground king who ruled the darkness itself. They'd bonded over that dream, and worship.
But now, listening to them talk, it was like none of them even remembered why they'd become pirates in the first place.
He could understand himself having doubts, he was the one who'd been defeated. But the others? Why were they all acting like this?
The wrongness of it all made him wonder if he was still unconscious, trapped in some dream.
"Bellamy? Are you feeling alright?" Muret asked.
Then one of the pirates wearing a sailor's cap spoke up. "There's something else you should know. The reason you're still alive right now, that's because of him."
"What?"
"When we found you after the fight, your wound was already mostly healed. But you're not a Zoan-type Devil Fruit user, there's no way your body should be able to regenerate that fast. Several of us saw it happen. Right after you lost, that man threw something at you. That's what saved your life."
Bellamy's hand went to his chest again. The man he'd attacked... had then saved his life?
"So you're saying he healed me? After I tried to kill him?"
"Yeah. Don't you see? Compared to Doflamingo, who's never given a shit about us, this man showed more compassion in one moment than we've received in years."
The logic was sound. Disturbingly sound. And yet...
"So what, Bellamy?" Sarquiss pressed. "Compared to Doflamingo, doesn't this guy deserve our loyalty more? He's powerful! He's merciful! He's perfect!"
Perfect? Since when did Sarquiss talk like that?
Bellamy looked around at all his crew members.
Indeed, he owed that man his life. He was a fucker, yes, but he wasn't the kind of man who could ignore that fact.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Everyone was staring at him now, waiting for his answer.
Something wrong. But he couldn't figure out what. And the worst part? Despite his unease, part of him agreed with their logic.
"Maybe you're right."