What is the purpose of pirates?
Looting, burning, and killing.
Occasionally they hunt for treasure, and often go against the Marines.
If he were to stand on the pirates' side, Habler should have shown some pirate courage and fought desperately with these Marine soldiers. While the Navy with the highest threat value on the escort ship was being held up, he should have tried his best to break through the Marines' defense line.
Or as a crew member who had just joined the "Bat Cutie" pirate group, he should also fight bravely at this time to gain more time advantages for his nominal captain.
But it's a pity.
Habler sees only one identity.
Fugitive.
What is a fugitive's priority?
Get away.
Joseph's body remained lying there after the Commodore's blow, motionless and forgotten in the chaos.
Habler waited until everyone's attention shifted away from him. Then, dropping to a crawling posture, he began feeling his way toward the upper passage.
Well, it was actually quite eye-catching.
With such a large size, it was difficult for the Marines to pretend not to see him. His massive frame scraped against the narrow corridor walls, creating an unmistakable grinding sound.
But the Navy didn't have much energy to deal with this guy. Their focus remained on the more immediate threat - the red-nosed clown who was systematically dismantling their Commodore's techniques.
After what felt like an eternity, Habler actually reached the stairs. 'Almost there... just a little more...'
Seeing that he was getting further and further away from Commodore Brownie, his confidence surged.
His huge body suddenly stood up, and the wound caused by Brownie didn't affect the little giant's movements at all. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, numbing the pain.
Then he started running desperately.
'This time, the free world is really beckoning to me!'
As long as he could escape from the cabin, as long as there was a chance for him to return to the blue sea, Habler had the confidence that he could swim to the next island by himself!
When he first became a pirate, Habler was exiled to an unknown island by a pirate fleet because of his excessive appetite. The memory still stung - abandoned like unwanted cargo, left to die on that barren rock.
But Habler managed to swim out with his own hands, his powerful strokes carrying him through treacherous waters for days.
However, since then, he had been full of distrust towards pirates, even though he was also one himself. 'Pirates... they're all the same. Use you, then throw you away when you become inconvenient.'
The broad planks of his feet rumbled on the iron plates beneath him, each step echoing through the ship's corridors like thunder.
For some reason, the few Marine soldiers he met along the way had no intention of stopping him. They barely glanced in his direction, their eyes glazed with terror.
'Could these be logistics or support staff in the Navy?' He guessed for a moment, then ran toward the light impatiently, his heart hammering with desperate hope.
"Freedom, freedom is waiting for me!" he whispered to himself, the words becoming a mantra.
Dawn was breaking as Habler emerged onto the deck.
The moon had fallen back below the sea, and an orange-red veil was spread across the blue waters. White seagulls flew by in the distance, their cooing sounds carrying on the morning breeze.
Habler stepped into the light, his chest heaving with exhaustion and anticipation.
The sun shone on his hands, but he couldn't feel any warmth. Something was wrong.
Not far away, under the wings of the seagulls, three dark green Marine warships with gleaming cannon muzzles formed a V-formation and surrounded the escort ship. Their imposing silhouettes cut through the morning mist like harbingers of doom.
The only empty direction lay behind him.
Habler turned around in panic and saw the Gates of Justice - that legendary barrier that stretched from sky to earth, seemingly without end - standing before him like an insurmountable white cliff.
The massive gates were opening toward both sides at an agonizingly slow speed, waves like small hills surging up around them as they moved.
Obviously, the warships had emerged from the Gates of Justice itself.
'Ah…Can I still escape?' The thought hit him like a physical blow.
Habler suddenly felt disheartened, his whole body going cold. He realized that his previous actions were just like a stage performance - no matter how many ups and downs there were in the middle, the ending would always be the same.
'We were never meant to escape, were we?'
He even thought Buggy's behavior was ridiculous now. Such desperate struggle seemed so meaningless in the face of the overwhelming strength of the Marines.
He stood there in a daze, his dreams of freedom crumbling around him.
Until an explosion came from all directions and engulfed him, the thunderous roar swallowing his final thoughts.
...
Commodore Brownie had a clear impression of monsters.
Because he had seen with his own eyes three monsters crawling up from beside him step by step, then leaving him far behind to sit in the positions of Admiral - the ultimate symbol of the Navy's strength.
'Akainu-san, Kizaru-san, Aokiji-san...' The names alone made him shudder.
The three monsters had left a profound impact on Brownie, like an academic genius sitting next to a hard-working honor student.
He would spend years mastering one or two techniques of Rokushiki through blood, sweat, and countless hours of training.
They would simply watch him demonstrate once, maybe twice, then execute the technique smoothly next time he see them, as if they'd known it their entire lives.
And they always took it for granted, as if such impossible learning speed was perfectly natural.
What was even more frustrating was that when they met next time, while Brownie was feeling proud of his hard-earned proficiency in mastering a move, his former peers had already developed techniques that were more suitable for them, building upon the Rokushiki foundation.
'This is too depressing!' Brownie never thought that he would encounter such a soul-crushing blow again today.
"It's a fun game, isn't it?"
The red-nosed clown said with a grin that seemed to split his face unnaturally wide.
He had learned so many interesting moves from this old Marine veteran - Soru, Kami-e, Geppo, Rankyaku, and Shigan.
This seasoned Marine had already demonstrated every technique except for Tekkai, desperately trying to find something, anything, that might give him an advantage.
Many of them were moves that Brownie had developed after years of research, techniques specifically designed to be compatible with his own scimitar style.
Such as now—
Brownie raised his hand and hastily used the blade of his scimitar to block the knife that suddenly thrust toward him instantaneouosly, the metal ringing with the impact.
The knife had passed through the air in a blur, leaving one or two afterimages - beautiful and deadly.
This was a move he had developed after years of research, combining Soru, Shigan, and his personal sword technique into something uniquely his own. Like a viper that pounces on it's prey.
As a result, after using it only a few times, it was learned and mastered by the red-nosed clown.
And now it was being used against him!
'This is simply not fair - they have to do this in front of me!' His frustration boiled over into rage.
However, his anger was quickly overwhelmed by fascination as he watched his opponent's movements, copied with perfect precision.
The cutting, Thrusting and slashing motions of his machete, when performed by the red-nosed man using nothing but a simple fruit knife, had a beauty like flowing water - graceful, fluid, and utterly mesmerizing.
If he hadn't seen the other party performing wild, uncontrolled slashing with that same knife just moments ago, he would have thought this was a master who had also practiced the way of the sword for many years.
'How is this possible? What kind moster is he!?'
The only thing that gave him a small measure of comfort was that he had managed to inform Marine Headquarters as soon as he discovered the abnormality.
'The reinforcements should be here by now, right? Even if they're coming from Headquarters...'
If such a monster really appeared on the seas without proper documentation and analysis, Brownie wouldn't even have the face to see Zephyr-sensei again.
After all, it was thanks to his repeated demonstrations that his opponent was able to learn almost all of the Rokushiki techniques. 'I've basically given a pirate a complete martial arts education for free! Fuck!'
As for the Seastone handcuffs on his left hand - his ace in the hole - they had proven difficult to utilize after failing in his first attempt. The red-nosed man had learned to keep his distance, never allowing Brownie to get close enough for direct contact.
The man with the red nose possessed the agility and observational skills of a seasoned circus performer, always staying just out of reach.
"Well, now I can better understand the feelings of a friend who likes to wear tights," Buggy said with some emotion as he recalled his right hand.
He didn't know if it was because of the fusion of three souls - Buggy, Brix, and Joaquin - but he felt that his brain was extremely excited, hyperaware and processing information at an incredible rate. Every move of his opponent was imprinted in his mind frame by frame, like watching a slow-motion replay.
Even memories of the past seemed extremely clear now.
He could clearly recall Batman's sophisticated and versatile fighting skills from when they had battled in that other life, in that other world.
'That guy was a genius in combat too, wasn't he? Just like these Marines...'
But time did not allow him to continue playing like this. The longer this dragged on, the more likely reinforcements would arrive.
Buggy raised his right hand and snapped his fingers lightly - a simple gesture that had become his signature.
As if it was a trained reflex, Brownie tensed his whole body and immediately activated Tekkai upon hearing the snap. His muscles hardened like iron, preparing for whatever devastating attack was coming.
"Tekkai!"
His expression had changed from calm confidence at the beginning to pale terror now, cold sweat beading on his forehead despite the morning chill.
'Who can understand the pressure I've endured during this entire fight?'
His nervousness was not without good reason.
His eyes bulged as several detached body parts suddenly rushed past him, moving with impossible coordination. The vibrating sensation in the air was becoming familiar - and terrifying.
'Damn it, even his split body parts can use Soru - who can I even complain to about this?!'
He had to remain constantly on guard, never knowing if there was a sharp blade hidden somewhere behind him, ready to inflict the same penetrating damage as before.
Ironically, Brownie realized that his Kenbunshoku Haki - which he had practiced for years but could never truly master - was gradually awakening under this immense pressure. Fear, it seemed, was an excellent teacher.
But Buggy's target wasn't him this time.
It was his left hand, which had been separated from his body and sent on a different mission entirely.
His detached hand returned carrying a long fuse and a box of matches, the thin cord trailing behind it like a deadly snake.
There seemed to be no end to the other side of the fuse - it appeared to branch out constantly, spreading to every part of the warship like the roots of some explosive tree.
"Our new life deserves a spectacular fireworks display to celebrate, don't you think?"
Buggy straightened up, and although he was still wearing standard prison clothes, something about his posture made them look like a slim, close-fitting purple suit. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who had just won everything.
He bowed slightly in an elegant gesture of farewell, as if concluding a performance.
Then he used two fingers to gently rub one end of the fuse.
The flesh-colored index finger and thumb produced a sound like metal clashing against metal - an impossible noise that shouldn't have come from human contact.
Brownie found the sound extremely harsh, like nails on a chalkboard, and he knew with terrible certainty that his time was running out. Trusting his instincts, he immediately ducked for cover behind a crate.
BOOM!