Aboard one of several stolen warships, a triumphant voice rang out.
"Gyahahaha! Take that, Navarone! So-called 'strongest fortress'—look at it now, crushed by the great Buggy!"
"Captain Buggy, you're incredible!"
"Our savior!"
"We did it, lads! We smashed the invincible fortress and escaped!"
"WOOOOH!"
Warships sailed away from Navarone, all five commandeered by pirates, not a single marine aboard.
Buggy, on the central ship, shouted in high spirits, his crew and those on flanking vessels echoing his fervor, their voices unstoppable.
The pirates had trounced the navy, escaping the cells, seizing ships, and leaving the island without losing a single man. Their jubilation was no surprise.
All owed to Buggy. Every pirate believed it, none doubting him. His leadership had won their freedom, making loyalty to him a natural choice.
The deck buzzed with celebration, their course set for a navy-free sea. The fortress faded from view, spirits soaring. No one spared a thought for a missing figure as they rushed to prepare a feast.
Buggy smirked, watching his newfound crew. (Losing that fortune stings, but life's the real prize. Don't worry, Kiri, your sacrifice won't be wasted.)
Grinning unapologetically, Buggy was handed a mug of ale. His crew held theirs, awaiting his signal. Standing at the bow, he raised his mug, addressing all ships.
"Ready, you lot? Let's toast our victory and make some noise!"
"YEAH!"
Mugs clashed, and a joyous banquet began under the open sky. From cells to freedom, they drank with strangers and smiled, unbound by past affiliations.
The lineup was staggering—Willy, Bigaro, Bobby, and Pogo, led by Buggy. Even former captains now followed him, forming a colossal pirate fleet from absorbed crews.
They knew they'd created an unmatched force, invincible. Emboldened, they acted freely.
"First, we link up with my crew. Then, the reborn Buggy Pirates—no, the Buggy Pirate Fleet rises! Get ready, it's gonna be wild!"
"All hail Captain Buggy!"
"Gyahaha! Eat, drink, rage! We'll talk later!"
Their voyage continued in high spirits, seeking comrades somewhere out there, sailing carefree.
On the pirate-free island, Jonathan gazed at the sea.
The situation was dire. The base half-destroyed, all prisoners escaped, countless marines injured, every warship stolen, and the illicit funds—Navarone's lifeline—gone. In hours, they'd lost everything.
Marines slumped, motionless behind Jonathan, who stood silent.
"I'm sorry… I've done something unforgivable," Drake muttered, bowing deeply, nearly prostrating.
He knew his actions were criminal, taken for Navarone, its citizens, and comrades. But it was all for naught.
The escape and failure left no defense against calls to decommission Navarone. It was a crushing defeat.
Drake couldn't face Jonathan, his mentor, head bowed, frozen. Shepard, beside him, shared his despair. Beyond corruption, the total loss stung. He understood Drake's pain.
Jonathan, silent, finally spoke, his voice unusually subdued.
"It's done. No need to apologize."
"But I…" Drake began.
"Honestly, I suspected before the auditor came. I ignored it, wanting to stay here," Jonathan admitted.
Drake and Shepard looked up, stunned. Jonathan continued without turning.
"I helped build this base. I'm attached—countless memories, deep ties. Even with orders, I couldn't let it go easily."
"Then why the auditor?" Shepard asked.
"Hm? Why indeed?" Jonathan grinned, turning with a mischievous, childlike expression—his usual self, unshaken.
He looked at the ruined base. "Look, everyone. This is our reality. The 'strongest fortress,' unblemished record—now scarred, trust and achievements lost."
Marines gazed up, hanging on his words.
"But this taught us something. We can still grow. We lost much, but not Navarone. Learn from this, start anew."
Eyes fixed on him.
"Don't look down—it blinds you. Don't dwell on losses. Count what we saved, think how to protect it next time."
Drake clenched his fists, head bowing again, emotions overwhelming. Struggling, he whispered, "But Vice Admiral, I can't stay. Court-martial, punishment—I must atone."
"Atone? Hm," Jonathan mused, stroking his beard, hesitating. "But Drake, there's no evidence. Court-martial? Doubtful."
"What?" Drake blinked.
"No suspicious funds remain. The base is wrecked, ledgers burned. Ashes won't prove corruption."
Jonathan's feigned pondering made Drake realize: Jonathan, capable of air-walking, could've chased Kiri but didn't. His inaction was deliberate.
If this was calculated—a strategist's foresight—it explained the uncharacteristic outcome. The base's destruction, the escape, all aligned.
Terrifying. Drake stared in awe. Jonathan met his gaze, smiling brightly at everyone.
"Let's start over. Don't forget this lesson. Rise as marines. This failure won't be wasted. The future matters."
His laughter left marines speechless, but vitality stirred, expressions shifting.
The complacent base hadn't lost its bonds. Change was coming.
Jonathan hadn't pursued Drake's crimes—no evidence remained. Finding intact items was harder.
Wendy slipped away quietly. Her job was done; she could leave.
No deputy was present to scold her, but she remembered someone waiting.
"Kept you waiting, huh, Hugh? Let's go before I get chewed out," she called to a giant crow nearby.
Mounting Hugh's back, he spread his wings and flew off, knowing the destination without orders.
Wendy, unusually cheerful, beamed with heartfelt joy.
But she faltered, dreading the scolding from her waiting companion. Without that, it'd be a perfect day. Still, her smile held firm.
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
It may not be worth it now, but who knows, it might be different in the future. Who knows!
patreon.com/Greyhounds
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